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thewritingrowlet · 2 months ago

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The Tireless Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, deepthroat—you know what, just read the whole thing, hm?

length: 8k+

author's note: I speedran this fic so please forgive me if it's too messy; I just wanted to make use of this free time.

p.s. this fic takes place before and after The Determined Wife.

Irene walks in the bedroom as you’re gathering your consciousness after a very good, post-sex sleep. “Ah, good morning, my love.” She high steps towards the bed to join you, taking her rightful place in your arms. “Love, on a scale of 1 to 10, how awake are you?” “Seven, probably.” You rub your eyes to see if maybe you can improve that score. “Okay, maybe eight and a half,” you revise.

Irene thinks that it’s not good enough; she wants you to be 100% in the right mind this morning, which is odd. She sits on your lap and starts kissing you passionately, seemingly in high spirits; she’s likely very satisfied with the fact that you’ve granted her wish to be bred.

“Tell me again.” “Nine and a half,” you tease. Your wife rolls her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t play hard to get.” You chuckle. “Aww, come on, love; I just want more kisses.” She puts on the beautiful smile that’s unique to her and only her. “Ah, fine, you win.”

She comes in for one more deep kiss, going as far as invading the space of your mouth with her tongue—it’s unfortunate that she breaks it soon after, though. “If that didn’t make it 10, I’m going to suck you off,” she says. “Sounds tempting,” you tease, “well, maybe later—let’s get to your point first.”

With a smile, Irene fishes something out of her shorts pocket and hands it to you with a closed palm. It is only when she lets go that you can see what it is: a pregnancy test device with two lines on it. “I’m a mother, love,” Irene starts breaking into tears, “I’m a mother, and there’s no question that you’re the father.”

Tears, endless of them, start flowing freely out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. “Y-you’re pregnant, my love?” Your grip on the little test kit weakens as your hand starts trembling—oh, look: a tear lands on the device, right where the little screen is. “I am,” Irene joins you in crying, “thank you for granting my wish.”

You put the small device to the side because you want to use your hands to hug your wife. “No, no, no,” you say, “thank you for giving me such a huge blessing.” Irene starts crying more freely, and you can’t help but do the same. “We’re going to become parents, love—isn’t that crazy?” “It is,” you agree with her, “thank you for making it possible for us, love.”

Irene pulls away from the hug, placing her hands on your shoulders instead. “You need to get ready for work, don’t you, love—let me start your shower.” You shake your head. “Screw work,” you say, “I want to spend this wonderful day with you and only you.” Your words draw a wide smile on her face. “Sounds great, love.”

She turns around before leaning against your chest, placing your hand right on her stomach that’s now occupied by the little one—your little one (the fetus hasn’t formed yet, yes, but the point still stands). Irene giggles as you rub her belly gently. “You’ll need to come up with some names, love.” “You first,” you say, “do you have ideas?” She taps her chin as she thinks of a candidate. “Jihoon-ie if it’s a boy, and Hyewon-ie if it’s a girl.”

You’re a little startled; Jihoon was the name of your little brother who passed away just before he turned 9 years old (you were 13 at the time) due to cardiac arrest. Your parents, specifically your mom, took his passing heavily, falling into what you learned years later as depression, which explained why they weren’t at home a lot—they were busy seeking help from professionals, both at home and abroad.

Irene knows about this story, obviously; you’ve taken her to his resting place a few times. “His memories can live on with our child, love,” she explains the reason behind the idea. “I’m glad that you have that idea, but personally, I think I’d let him rest,” you say, and Irene dares not argue.

“What about your ideas, love?” You take a few deep breaths as you try to come up with some names. “I don’t have any boy names in my head, but Yeseo if it’s a girl,” you say. Irene likes your idea; she thinks that it’s such a pretty and cute name for a girl. “Well, we’ll need to wait until they can tell if we’re having a son or a daughter.”

Mr. Hwang, the cook, has made some fettuccine for breakfast, since Irene said that she’s been craving pasta—a pregnant woman shall have what she wants. So, here you are: sitting at the table in the dining room with Irene, ready to fill your stomach with this tasty-looking dish.

Seeing the tall glass of water reminds you of something important that you want to address with Irene. “My love,” you place a hand over hers, “now that we’re going to become parents, let’s stop drinking alcohol, hm?” She nods enthusiastically. “I was about to suggest that idea to you, hon.” You smile. “I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” “About that, though,” she backtracks, “what about our collection? We have some nice wine and champagne.”

You ring the kitchen bell, and Mr. Hwang appears after a few seconds. “Yes, sir?” “Do you drink, Mr. Hwang?” “I do, sir, occasionally,” he admits. “Nice,” you put on a thumbs-up, “would you like to keep our liquor collection? We want to stop drinking now that we’re expecting.” His eyes widen in surprise. “I would be honored, sir, but as far as I know, they’re expensive.” You smile kindly while placing a hand on the side of his arm. “The only thing I care about, Mr. Hwang, is my wife and my child’s health—I don’t care about those bottles.” “If you say so—oh, and congratulations on the pregnancy, sir.”

After convincing Mr. Hwang to keep your collection of liquor for himself, you return to your wife. “Mr. Hwang will take care of those bottles, love; we won’t have to throw them out,” you inform her. “Erm, actually,” says Irene, “can we give the Masseto to my parents, love?” You agree with her request, thus officially marking the start of the transition to a clear-headed life without alcohol.

You invite Irene to join you on the sofa because you think that you have some things to discuss with her. “What do you want to talk about, love?” “Which hospital do you want, and how do you want to deliver the baby?” After thinking about it for a while, Irene says she wants to try delivering without surgery but is open to it as the last option. As for the hospital, she chooses the Sacred Heart Hospital, which is a very good hospital that’s also not too far from your house.

“Next up, our stuff,” you say, making Irene confused. “What do you mean?” “Well, we’re going to need a new car; I don’t think transporting the 3 of us in that 911 or your Genesis is a good idea.” “Do you want to sell the 911?” No, you don’t want to; Irene bought that silver speedster as a birthday present for you. “I was thinking that we should just buy a new one—something that can accommodate us and our child comfortably.” She pulls out her phone to search for options, but you stop her. “That doesn’t have to happen today, love,” you say, “we can think about that later on; I was just trying to get it out there, you know.”

Irene moves to sit on your lap. “I have some things to ask from you, love,” she starts on a new subject, “tell me what you think about them, okay?” You nod to get her to continue. “First, whenever possible, please come home early and don’t spend too much time working.” You say yes without hesitation, which satisfies her. Work will always be there, but your child’s growth and other important moments only happen once—wouldn’t want to miss your child’s first word or first step, would you?

“Second,” she puts up two fingers in front of your eyes, “please have mercy on me when we have sex.” You ask her to elaborate further. “I know that we can get rough sometimes, so let’s turn it down a bit to make sure the child isn’t in danger or anything.” “What about the frequency?” You take your turn to ask. “Just the usual, please; I’ll tell you when I want it, and you can tell me when you want it.” Again, without hesitation, you agree to her terms, which apparently serves as a segue for her next point.

“Can I have you, love?” You grin as you feel your cock getting hard. “You certainly can, love—can I have you as well?” Irene giggles cutely. “That goes hand-in-hand, doesn’t it?” “Just wanted to make sure, baby.”

Because of the time and day, there are other people in the house (i.e. the cook and the cleaning staff), so the only place you can have sex in is the bedroom. On your way to the bedroom with Irene in your arms, she taps your chin to get your attention. “Love, Miss Jo wants to take a leave to visit her parents,” she says. “We’ll go out later and get her some stuff to take home.”

You set Irene gently onto the bed in compliance with her request to take things easier during sex. “Ah, my gentle giant,” she comments. She hasn’t used that nickname in quite some time, now that you think about it. That name was given to you by your fellow student council members (including Irene) back in university when you refused to beat up a toilet peeper and would rather have him formally punished by the university and charged by the victims. “I thought you’ve forgotten that name.” She lets out a giggle. “How can I forget, love?”

You come in for a kiss to indicate that you’ve had enough chatter, and Irene welcomes you warmly as usual. “Please, love,” she gulps, “please start already.” You reach for her pajama top and undo the first button. “Patience, baby; I still need to undress you.” She cooperates by undoing her top starting from the bottom button and meeting you halfway. “There, I helped,” she says, making you laugh a little. She then proceeds to pull down her shorts just as you’re about to ask her.

Your gaze lands on her firm belly where your child is being safely kept. “I hope you won’t hate me when my stomach gets bigger.” You shake your head rapidly. “There’s no way I’d hate you for that—you’re my wife and that’s our child in your belly,” you say, and you see that Irene’s eyes are threatening to burst.

You join her in bed after undressing yourself and after she has taken off her underwear. You then pull her into a hug and peck her head everywhere, making her let out that lovely laugh that’s special to her. Once you stop, she places her hands on each side of your face. “I swear on everything I have that I’m so glad that I ended up with you and not with that Kim Junghwan guy.” “He never deserved you,” you say, demeaning. “That is true,” she agrees with you, “you and only you, love.”

You take the bottom position today, letting Irene have her way with you. “I have a feeling that I’d not be able to ride you as well with a big belly,” she comments as she moves to sit on your lap. You’re starting to get ticked off, but at the same time, she’s coming from a good place, so for now, you simply let out a sigh. “Love, please don’t worry about the sex; we’ll adapt as the pregnancy continues. Just focus on your health and stress levels, please.” Irene places her hands on her chest. “That’s touching, love—thank you.”

With your cock in hand, she aims it at her entrance. “Here I go,” she notifies you, as if you couldn’t see what she’s doing. Irene slowly goes down on your shaft, hugging it with her tight and warm walls. You breathe deeply as she starts moving up and down. “Fuck, that’s good,” you praise her to rile her up. “Yeah, daddy?” There it is: the kink that you love the most—Irene has always been quick to use it.

Irene bends backwards slightly and fixes her grip on your knees. After making sure that she’s steady, she starts moving faster on your cock, and you desperately want to hold those bouncing plump tits of hers. “Daddy, daddy,” she chants, “oh, you’re so deep in me, daddy.” “Keep it up, baby—fuck, you’re doing so well.”

Irene might not be the best at working out, but damn is she good at managing her stamina during sex; it feels like she has this extra battery pack that’s specifically used for sex, and as long as praises and words of affirmation keep flowing out of your lips, that battery will never die.

“Oh, no, daddy,” she slows down a little, “I think I’m about to cum.” “I don’t see the problem with that.” You slap her butt a few times to get her to speed up again. “Go on, baby; be good and cum for me.” Irene nods and picks up the pace again, trying to adhere to your command to “be good.”

Irene’s thighs shake violently when her first orgasm hits while her walls are gripping your shaft very tightly, making it very hard to you to not just bust right here. You pull her towards you and hug her. “Good job, love—very good job.” “You—oh, you always bring the best out of me, daddy,” she replies despite the heavy pants. “I can say the same about you, love,” you whisper back.

Without retreating from her pussy, you roll over until you’re the one on top. “You’re so sweaty, love,” you comment while wiping her forehead, “that must’ve been exhausting for you.” Irene shakes her head feebly. “A-anything to make you happy, daddy.” The way she always puts your pleasure as the top priority is touching. “Alright, let’s take a breather first, okay?”

“Take a breather,” you say, but you’re still slowly moving back and forth in her pussy, making her let out soft moans despite the exhaustion. “Ha-have mercy—please, daddy,” she utters faintly, almost too quiet to reach your ears. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m being gentle.”

As you keep fucking her like this, you can feel your orgasm inching closer, so you pause for now. “Okay, I’m going to stop here—I don’t want to cum without your full attention.” “B-but you have my attention, daddy.” You chuckle. “Your eyes are barely open, love.” When you see her opening her mouth to make an argument, you quickly lean in for a kiss to interrupt her. “Relax, love, we have all day.”

You’ve spent the last few minutes kissing (while still being inside her), and Irene is the first to break it. “When are you going to give me your cum, daddy?” You assess that she has recovered enough for you to finish this, so to answer her, “Right now.” You straighten your back and prepare to start. “Where do you want it, love?” Irene scoffs. “Where else?” “But what about your career?” The callback to the career vs. child argument makes her laugh. “I’m literally pregnant right now, in case you forgot—fill me however much you want, daddy.”

You place her legs together on one side of your shoulder and start fucking her. Irene promptly places her hands on her tits, doing whatever she can to add more stimulation on top of that you’re giving her. “Daddy, you’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it, you know.” You let out a hum to answer her. “Give it to me whenever, daddy.”

You fasten your grip on her legs as you turn up the pace to the maximum of your ability. Your wife has now been reduced to moans and screams; she no longer has the headspace to play with her tits and instead just puts her hands on each side of her head.

“Love, I—” Before you can finish your sentence, semen escapes your shaft and enters her body, making her let out a long, sensual moan because of the warmth. “Oh, daddy,” she gasps, “oh, God, you’ve filled me again.” You let go of her legs and fall limply onto her body. “I love you, baby,” you say right into her ear. “I love you more, daddy.”

As you roll closer towards your house, you see your wife patiently waiting for you in the front garden among the flowers. She turns her head and puts on a smile for you, and you swear to God that exhaustion and stress from work has been taken away, and along with it, your breath.

You quickly jump out of your car, stumbling on your own leg in the process. “Welcome home, love,” she greets you with open arms. You take your rightful spot in her arms, and you can feel her belly bump against yours. “Tired, love?” “I was but not anymore,” you say. “It’s like magic, isn’t it—the moment you see your significant other, everything else just disappears.” “Absolutely,” you agree with her.

Irene invites you to sit on the garden bench with her, but you opt to take a knee in front of her instead. You rub her belly gently to greet your little one, and Irene looks at you with a smile of approval. “I want to say that I’m tired, but it doesn’t feel right.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Why not?” “I mean, it’s you who went to work, not me.” “That’s absurd; you might be at home, but I imagine being pregnant is tiring.” You can tell that she wants to make another argument, but the way you’re looking at her right in the eyes makes her bury that intention.

“Have you eaten, by the way?” Irene nods. “I asked Mr. Hwang to make me lentil soup for lunch.” Lentil soup sounds nice and healthy, which is important for a pregnant woman. “It was so delicious, by the way.” You laugh. “He’d be in deep trouble if it wasn’t.”

You think that this is enough catching up for now and that it’s time to get into the house, so you carry her inside safely. Irene says she wants to watch TV because she’s “tired of being in the bedroom,” so you put her down on the sofa and hand her the remote. You then tell her that you’ll join her after taking a quick shower.

When you get back to the living room to join her, you see that Irene is watching this little documentary on Giethoorn, this beautiful hamlet in the Netherlands where rivers run everywhere. She keeps letting out wows as shots of the area are shown on screen, deeply immersed in the show. “Do you think we can move there one day, love?” “Oh, man, I hope so; that looks like a really nice place to live in.” Irene turns your head towards you. “Maybe if we can’t live in the Netherlands, we can live in some quieter place instead—Damyang or Jinhae, perhaps?” You smile at her. “We’ll see what we can do, alright?” Not satisfied with just words, she makes you make a pinky promise that you’ll seriously consider it.

You didn’t know that you fell asleep, only waking up because you feel soft pokes on your thigh.

“Hngh?”

“Love, you’re tired, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“Please, that doesn’t look like a little.”

“A little lot, perhaps,” you change your answer.

“I was going to invite you to sleep, but you haven’t eaten yet.”

“That’s fine, love.”

“No, it’s not fine—do you want to have food delivered here?”

“Eh, sure,” you accept her offer, “order something light for me, please.”

Irene doesn’t say anything, presumably busy scrolling through the food delivery app to find something for you. “Light, light, light—what’s something that’s light?” “A lamp—haha, get it?” Irene slaps your thigh for your joke. “Daddy is really funny, isn’t he, Hyewon-ah?” Hearing your wife say that name startles you a tad. “Hyewon-ah? Really?” “I don’t know,” Irene shrugs, “I just like that name.” “Oh, I thought we’ve found out if we’re having a daughter.”

Irene focuses on ordering food again, and something finally catches her fancy. “What about some toast, love?” “What toast?” She shows you the available options, from peanut butter toast to kimchi and cheese toast. “Get me one peanut butter toast, please.” She says that it’s a better deal to order at least 3 toasts, so she adds some other toast to the order. “It’ll be here in around 45 minutes, love.” You thank her for the help and then invite her to rest her head on your lap.

“Love me, please,” she says in this aegyo-esque voice. You bend down and peck her on the forehead. “Anything specific, love?” Irene opens and closes her mouth a few times, seemingly trying to judge if she should speak her mind. “You’re so tired, though,” she utters, and you can already tell what she’s getting at. “You want me between your legs, don’t you?” Your wife covers her red face. “W-well, if you put it like that…” “We’ll wait until I have some food in my stomach and see how we can proceed—do we have a deal?” “Yes, deal!” The way her voice cracks makes you laugh. “My, my, aren’t you a cutie?”

The toasts are here: you’ve grabbed the bag from the delivery man and put it on the living room table.

You pick up the box with the text “PB” written on it. Irene says that she has bought some toast from this place before and hopes that you’ll like it like she does. You nod in satisfaction after taking the first bite. “I think I know what brand of peanut butter this is,” you comment. She scratches her head in cluelessness. “I don’t know, love; they all taste the same to me.”

You notice that Irene has two hands on top of each other on her stomach and keeps licking her lips while watching you eat. “Want to have a bite, lovely?” She nods timidly. “It looks so good,” she admits, “b-but I don’t know if I should eat.” You tilt your head in confusion. “Why not?” “Erm, I think that’s ultra-processed food—that’s one. Two, I don’t want to gain too much weight.” Weight can be quite a sensitive subject, especially considering that your wife has always been paying close attention to it.

You keep chewing as you think of a reasonable answer—well, here it goes: “I’m sure that you have good intentions, but I’m almost certain that one toast won’t hurt you or Hyewon-ie.” You can tell that she’s starting to get swayed, as proven by how she has a box with “CHOCO” written on it in her hands. “Forgive me, Hyewon-ah, but I really want this toast.”

You panic a little when Irene sheds a tear after taking a bite. “Oh my, are you okay, love?” She nods again. “T-this is so good, but I feel so guilty for eating this—oh, I’m so sorry, Hyewon-ah.” You put down your and her toast on the table so that you can hold her hands. “Love, love,” you try to get her to focus on you, “it’s okay, no one is yelling at you for eating one toast—not me, not Doctor Shin, and certainly not Hyewon-ie.” “A-are you sure?” “Yes,” you say in a resolute tone. “We’ll be just fine, trust me.”

Feeling decently comforted and assured by your words, Irene asks if she can have her toast again, so you give it back to her. You make sure you don’t forget to wipe that random tear off her cheek while you’re at it. “Thank you,” she utters softly. “You’re welcome, my love,” you say equally softly.

After finishing those tasty and quite filling toast, Irene asks if she can have you between her legs, so you stand up from your seat and stretch your body to warm up. “I apologize in advance if I finish too fast; I’m kind of tired.” Your wife shakes her head. “As long as your load is mine, I don’t really see the problem with finishing fast—I’ll probably finish before you, anyway.”

There’s only you and your wife in this house right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that sex should only happen in the bedroom for the next 6 to 7 months; it’s more comfortable for her and safer for your child.

After getting undressed, Irene asks to be helped sit on the stool that she prepared earlier today. “It seems like you have an idea,” you comment. “Yes,” she says, “I want you back there.” “What happened to turning it down?” “This isn’t our first time, is it—just remember to be gentle.”

You open the bedside drawer to find the lube and see that it’s not there. “We don’t have lube?” Irene looks away to hide her red cheeks. “Erm, I might or might not have used it earlier.” You furrow your eyebrows. “You used it? For what?” She shyly admits that she fucked herself in the rear with a dildo this afternoon. “I-I wanted to prepare for you, because I know you like it when I think ahead.”

It’s not strange or new to you that your wife is lustful; you’ve known that for years at this point. That said, you’d think that being pregnant would turn that lustfulness down, but it doesn’t seem like it so far—in fact, it feels like she’s more lustful than ever.

You stand in front of her and hold her chin. “Oh, love, what would you do without me—who could satisfy you if not me?” “I don’t know, daddy; it’s always been you since day one.” You reward her with a kiss for answering correctly. “May I, then?” Irene giggles slightly. “Certainly.”

You walk around and look for your target. “I’m pulling this plug out, alright?” After getting a nod of approval from your wife, you gently tug on the plug. “Ngh!” Irene clenches her fists when she feels her rear being stretched by the wide part of the plug. “Relax, love—it’s almost out.” With a pop, the plug is finally out of her tight ass, and you quickly put your mouth on it for the first time ever in this marriage, making your wife gasp in shock. “Daddy, no, I’m dirty there.”

You ignore her and keep running your tongue on her puckered hole; quite fun, you must admit. Occasionally, you try parting her cheeks apart so that you can put the tip of your tongue in her rear.

Feeling weak, Irene starts tumbling forwards, but you catch her just in time to save her from going face first onto the floor. “God, you’re so crazy, daddy.” “Your new task, baby, is to keep it clean all the time—is that clear?” Irene nods in obedience. “Y-yes, sir; I will try my best.” You squeeze her butt cheek lightly. “Good girl,” you praise her.

You get on your feet and hug the panting woman from behind. “Are you alright?” “Y-yes—fuck, you’re fucking crazy.” You pinch a nipple, more surprising than painful. “That’s not how you speak to me, woman.” “S-sorry, sir, b-but you are indeed crazy.” You kiss her on the back of the head. “I hope you didn’t mind, by the way.” Your wife shakes her head. “Not—oh, not at all.”

“Sir, daddy,” Irene can’t choose between the two, “would you fuck my ass, please?” “Thought you’d never ask, baby.” You stroke your shaft to make sure that it’s properly hard and ready while your wife spreads her butt cheeks to give you access. You place the tip right on the entrance of her forbidden hole. “Are you ready, baby?” “Yes—oh, God, fuck, yes.”

You waste little time and go deep right away into her warmed-up hole. “Fuck, you’re always so tight right here.” “Hngh! Ngh!” Irene can only let out grunts as she’s getting overwhelmed by the stimulation you’re giving her. “No one can touch you like I do, hm?” She shakes her head weakly as a response, still unable to say anything back.

You hook her arms backwards as you get ready to fuck her to make sure she doesn’t fall off the stool. “I’m yours, daddy—fuck me however you want,” she says, as if it was ever a question. “Bet.”

With this steady posture, you start fucking her ass roughly, forcing Irene to scream with each thrust delivered. “My husband is fucking amazing—Hyewon-ah, daddy is fucking amazing,” Irene thinks as the sounds of your hips crashing against her butt enter her ears.

As time goes on, everything starts to get blurry for Irene, and it doesn’t help that from this position, she has no control over how fast you’re fucking her. “P-please stop,” she says weakly, hoping that it’ll still reach your ears amongst the clapping sounds. It doesn’t seem like you heard her, though; you’re still fucking her ass recklessly, which leaves her no other choice but to just yell out loud. “DADDY, STOP—PLEASE!” Hearing her scream makes you stop abruptly with more than half your shaft still lodged in her ass. “Daddy, please, let me breathe,” Irene begs.

Still panting, you gently retreat from her gaped ass. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,�� you just realize how rough you’ve been. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, love,” you repeat to show sincerity. You pull her into your arms and take a seat on the edge of the bed, and the sight of your wife crying (from getting fucked in the ass, nonetheless) twists your heart like nothing else. You keep repeating apologies while rubbing her stomach gently, hoping that doing so could also tell Hyewon that you’re regretful of your actions.

Irene feebly reaches for your face. “I-it’s okay; it was good until it became overwhelming, daddy.” You lie her down on her side and inspect the result of your recklessness—it seems like she didn’t get injured by your shaft. “I think you’re fine, baby.” “Great,” she replies, “so what are you waiting for?” You blink rapidly in confusion. “I thought you were in pain?” “I never said that,” she shrugs. Seeing that you’re silent, Irene piles on. “C’mon, look at yourself, daddy: you’re still hard and ready to fuck me—let me finish the job, please.” “Fine,” you give up, “I’m not getting in your ass again, though.”

Irene says that you have a deal and asks you to lie down so that she can take control, which is fine by you; you’ve had enough “fun” being dominant tonight. You keep an eye on your wife as she aims your shaft towards her entrance from the cowgirl position. You grit your teeth when Irene slowly sits down on your cock—you’re in her ass again. “Oh, fuck, welcome back, daddy.” “I thought we had a deal.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irene deflects, “anyway, I hope you enjoy the ride, hihihi.”

Irene rests her subtly bulged belly on your body while her hips are busy bouncing up and down along your length. She keeps chanting “you’re in my ass” as if you can’t tell that you are indeed in her ass. You reach around and slap her butt. “Go faster.” Having planted her hands on your chest, Irene tries to bounce faster on your cock. “Oh, oh, yes—how’s this, daddy?” It’s you who can’t respond this time; just like earlier, the way her muscles are squeezing you prevents you from thinking straight and coming up with words to say.

You rest your head on the pillow while your wife is busy fucking herself on your cock (while moaning so freaking freely), and for some reason, your eyelids feel like they weighed 100 kilograms—what the hell are they so heavy for? “You must be close, daddy,” Irene makes a keen observation. “Uh-huh,” are all that escape your lips. Hearing that you’re close serves as fuel for Irene to keep up the tempo and make you bust with her ass; this tireless woman can be very crazy in bed, pregnant or not.

“Love, I’m about to—oh, fuck, I’m about to bust,” you warn her. “Yeah?” Her voice is barely heard thanks to the endless clapping noises. You grip the pillow your head is resting on as your cock starts twitching wildly in her rear. “Baby, please,” you let your desperation to cum be known to her.

Irene slams herself down onto your body, and you instantly erupt, surprising the both of you at the same time. She throws her head back as your warm semen floods her ass. “Oh, oh, yes, daddy.” It was her who did all the work, but it’s you who’s panting heavily.

“Love, thank you so much.” Irene removes you from her ass and lies down next to you. “Even when tired, you’re still so strong,” she praises while her hand runs along your length. “What’s your secret, daddy?” “You’re my secret; if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be like this.” You let out a low moan when your wife manages to squeeze the last bit of semen out of you. “You’re so cute, you know that?” You chuckle. “No, I don’t.”

It feels odd to not have Irene welcome you at the driveway, especially since she’s been doing that consistently for the past few weeks, too. Her Genesis is parked neatly in the usual spot, so she must be at home, but where is she?

“I’m home.” You close the door behind you and scan your surroundings—still no sign of your wife, making you wonder if perhaps she’s asleep. You make your way towards the bedroom, and your jaw drops immediately when you see her kneeling on the floor while being almost entirely naked. Irene buckles a little, presumably because she feels a fetus kick. “Even Hyewon-ie doesn’t approve,” you comment.

You rub the side of her face gently. “What on God’s green earth are you trying to do, love?” The ball gag in her mouth prevents her from answering, but she has this little spanker in her hands that she’s trying to hand over to you. “Love, please, what are you doing?” Irene just looks at your feet while her hands are on her thighs. “This isn’t how a woman in her second trimester is supposed to behave, is it?” You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to get yourself together. “Fine, I’ll play your game.”

Your wife steals some glances as you undress in front of her, and when you’re finished, you take the time to take off her bra, exposing her tits that you swear have grown bigger recently. You then lift her onto her feet to remove her panties, and Irene instantly drops back down onto the floor after you’re done. “Oh, you’re that serious, aren’t you?”

You pick up the slim paddle from the floor and prepare to swing. “Wait, where do I hit her?” You look for places to hit her on, but the more you think about it, the more that you don’t want to do it. That said, you imagine that it’d disappoint her if you chicken out, so you decide to play along until she taps out.

You hit her on the right shoulder once. “Ngh!” Irene lets out a yelp of surprise when the paddle lands. “That’s one.” You move the paddle to your other hand and hit her on the left shoulder. “I’ll count until 29, okay?” Irene nods in response, and that’s when you look for other targets.

You ask her to show you her palms and hit them successively. “Any ideas?” Your wife taps her thighs, indicating that she wants to be hit there, so you hit those two spots, harder than you’d like to admit, making her grunt in pain. “Sorry.” That sounds less sincere than you’d like, but it’s okay, you’ll make it up to her later.

Before you continue, you join her on the floor and unlatch the gag. “This doesn’t look comfortable, so I’m taking it off,” you say. Irene relaxes her mouth now that she’s free. “Thank you, master.” You sigh. “Master? Really?” Irene nods enthusiastically. “Yes, master.”

You stand back up and swing at her tender breasts out of nowhere. “Fucking naughty, aren’t you?” As Irene opens her mouth to say something, you hit her breasts again. “You’re pregnant, and this is how you fucking act? Explain yourself.” You tell her to explain herself, but you don’t give her the chance to do so, interrupting her with a hit on the forearm. “M-master, please.” “Please what?” You subconsciously raise your tone. “Please punish me; I-I’ve been naughty.” You roll your eyes. “Fuck it, we’re going back to zero.”

You hit her on different places in rapid succession, and Irene screams after each one. “How many?” “S-six, master.” “Good,” you praise her emptily, “count to 18, slut.” You initially chose 29, which is the date she was born, but changed it to 18, which is the date you were born. As much as you’re putting on a cold charade for her, you don’t have the heart to hit her 29 fucking times.

You tell her to get on her hands and knees to expose other parts of her body. You smack her on the back a few times before moving on to her butt and hitting it a few more times. “How many?” Irene chokes up momentarily before she manages to get her answer out. “T-twelve, sir.”

To end the show, you give her some hard hits on the back of her thighs. “E-eighteen, master.” “On your knees,” you command, and Irene obeys right away. “Explain yourself, or else.” “I-I was just trying new stuff,” she says. “Is that it?” Irene just nods, and you can’t help but sigh, feeling somewhat frustrated by her simple answer.

“Love, be honest with me: why are you acting like this?” After taking a deep breath, Irene proceeds to explain the whole thing, from how she tore the left rear tire of her car against an elevated curb while trying to pull into a gas station this afternoon, to the fact that she touched herself thrice while thinking about you. “L-like I said, I’ve been very naughty.” You exhale deeply. “Those few things don’t require punishment—especially not of this sort.” Your wife shakes her head. “But I want to be punished,” she insists.

“Have you had enough, or what?” Irene slowly shifts her gaze to meet yours, and you know that she knows that you’re aroused, as shown by your erect cock. “Do whatever you please, master,” she says, hiding her excitement behind the façade of obedience.

Still kneeling in front of you, Irene eases you into her mouth. You place a hand on the back of her head and pull her towards you, forcing your cock deeper. She’s taken you deep plenty of times, so this is neither new nor difficult for her. “Hold it there and count to 10.” After finishing her count, Irene retreats until only your tip is in her mouth. “Very good—now do it 9 more times.”

Irene does as you command, doing each repetition passionately, much to your satisfaction. “That’s very good, love,” you make sure you don’t forget to praise her. You retreat from her wet mouth to let her breathe, and she promptly inhales sharply. “I-I hope I did well, sir.” You smile kindly. “Of course; you always do everything so well.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed while you wait for Irene to get herself together. “Anything else, master?” A lit bulb appears over your head. “Is it just me, love, or have your breasts gotten bigger?” She takes a quick look at herself. “I-I think they have indeed grown, master.” “They look so soft, don’t you think?” She nods to your question. “Would you like to touch them, sir?” “I have a better idea,” you say, “put them around my cock.”

Irene crawls towards you and places your cock right between her extra plump tits. “Like this, sir?” You moan in a low voice as your shaft grinds against her tits. “You—oh, fuck, you’re so good at every-fucking-thing.” Your wife blushes. “I aim to please, master.” “Oh, trust me, I’m very pleased right now, love.”

Much to your pleasure, Irene presses her chin against her chest and catches your tip with her mouth every time it pokes through her tits. You pet her head gently. “Good fucking job, baby—fuck, I’m about to bust.” “Please, give me your cum, master.” Irene moves her tits faster, eager to have your first load of the day.

You throw your head back and close your eyes as semen spurts out of the tip of your cock, landing all over her face and chest. “Oh my, very thick,” she comments. “I love how you taste, master; your diet works well for me too, you know.” You chuckle. “Good to know, baby.”

You invite Irene to lie down in bed with you. “You haven’t cum yet.” “Yes, I have; I told you I touched myself a lot today.” You get your tie from the messy pile of clothes. “Hands above your head, please.” She puts her hands together above her head, and you tie them together. “Are we ready?” Irene looks at you nervously. “Please have mercy, master; I’ve had a lot of orgasm today.” “That wasn’t my doing, was it?”

Irene gasps in shock when she feels your hand on her little nub. “Sensitive much?” “Please, master.” “Please what, baby?” “I need to cum again, master—make me cum with your hands, please.” “Well, since you asked so nicely.” You use one hand to stimulate her nub and use the other to play with her tits, going fast and fervent right from the gate.

In the moment of high stimulation, Irene accidentally kicks you in the head—how did that even happen? “That’s not nice.” “I-I—fuck, I’m so sorry, master. I didn’t mean it.” “That’s strike one, Miss Bae,” you warn. To punish her behavior, you increase the intensity of stimulation on her pussy, making her jolt around more. It’s fine if she were to kick you again; you have some more ideas in your head to get her back.

Your wife keeps moaning loudly and freely as her fourth orgasm looms ahead. “Master, master,” Irene begs for your attention, “I won’t last too long, master.” “Oh, is that so?” You plunge two fingers into her pussy and finger-fuck her, and Irene can’t help but moan, possibly until her voice disappears.

Your hand starts getting tired, but as timing has it, she’s also very, very close to orgasm. With an ear-piercing scream, Irene explodes: her legs are shaking violently, and her juice is coming out torrentially. “Very, very good, my love—you’re such a big bomb, aren’t you?” You free her hands and move to barrage her sweaty head with pecks. “We’ll wait until you’re relaxed before doing anything else, alright?”

Amid all this, you notice that you’re getting rock hard again. You start stroking your cock with the sight of your naked wife in front of you. Irene, in her exhausted state, looks at you. “Don’t waste your cum,” she says vaguely. “What do you mean?” “Put it somewhere in me, master,” she clarifies. You stop for a moment. “You’re very exhausted, love. I don’t want to burden you with more sex.” Your wife shakes her head. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

You take a position in between her legs, aiming your cock at her pussy in the process. You announce that you’re going in, and Irene moans weakly at the first contact. She tells you that you need to do all the work this, citing her exhaustion. “Never thought I’d hear such words from you; you’ve been tireless recently,” you say, earning a little chuckle from her.

You kiss her while your shaft goes in and out of her, dropping whatever charade you’ve been using these past few hours. “I love you, baby—I love you so fucking much.” “I-I love you more, hon—you’re the best for me.” Her warm words make you smile. “I’ll stay by your side until death do us part, my love.” “You have a deal.” You hug her tightly when your second load of the day enters her body.

“We’ll rest a bit, if that’s okay with you.” “Sure,” Irene says, “I can’t even stand up right now.”

You feel rapid taps on your chest, making you wake up crassly in surprise. When your eyes are open enough to provide vision, you see that your wife is seated in bed with Yeseo in her arms. “Yes, love?” Irene doesn’t answer your question and instead, starts breaking down in tears. ��C-can you take care of her a little? I-I want to rest.”

You slap yourself as hard as you can for leaving your wife to sleep and, in turn, forcing her to tend to your child alone. “My goodness, I’m so sorry, love.” You open your hands to receive your daughter who is wrapped snug with a little blanket, and Irene immediately falls flat onto the bed—she’s still crying, though. “Go to sleep if you can, love; I’ll keep her safe.” “I’m such a bad mom,” she insults herself unnecessarily, “I can’t even stay up for my daughter.” “No, you’re not a bad mom—trust me, you’re not.” To offer her some peace, you tell her that you’ll be in the living room with Yeseo until morning. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You give her a peck as a parting gift.

“Yeseo-yah,” you whisper softly, “while mommy catches her breath, we’ll hang out in the living room, okay?” Having been born just a few weeks ago, Yeseo can’t respond much aside from a small head movement, which you’ll gladly accept as an answer. “We’re going to get along very well, aren’t we, sweetie?”

You turn on the TV to watch something in an attempt make sure you don’t fall asleep, and that’s when you see the time: 02:09 a.m. “We’re staying up late, sweetie—I hope you won’t make this a habit when you’re grown up,” you comment.

You make sure that the TV is muted so that it doesn’t startle your daughter when this video starts. “Oh my, look at that place, Yeseo-yah.” A shot of beautiful countryside scenery in Jeju steals your attention, and it’s very hard to resist the temptation to move there with your family. “What do you say we move there, sweetie?” Yeseo lets out a small squeal, and you guess that she’s interested in living there. “Aha, great minds think alike, hey?”

You remember your wife asking if the family can move to somewhere quieter to raise Yeseo in, and now that she’s actually here, you’re really contemplating the opportunity. In your head, you try to think about what work would be like if you lived in a place like Jeju, which is even farther from the big capital. Your brain suggests stepping down from your post and earning from dividends, which sounds like a sound idea. Irene had stepped down from her position of director of risk management two months before Yeseo was born, so it’s not the craziest idea to follow suit.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and mommy, Yeseo-yah.” You want to say that you’re willing to die for them, but Irene’s words enter your mind: why die for family, if you can be healthy and stay by their side instead? You laugh a little as you recall that exchange. “Mommy is an amazing person, sweetie. Sometimes I can’t believe I ended up with her.”

Irene wakes up around 6 hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed after a decent night’s sleep. The first thing she does is obviously to check up on her husband and daughter.

“Look at you: sleeping with Yeseo in your hands.” Irene unlocks her phone and takes a picture of you sleeping with your mouth wide open while Yeseo is chilling in your arms. She gets teary eyes looking at this scene in the living room.

She never had the idea of being childfree and has taken a more neutral stance about it, but at the same time, having Yeseo is quite the surprise turn of her life.

Irene quietly joins you on the sofa to not disturb your peace. “Love, love,” she whispers, trying to get you to wake up, “wake up, please; it’s time for work.” “Screw work,” she hears you say, “I’m stepping down.” She knows that you’re referring to your job. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you reply again, “we’re moving to Jeju.”

Before getting too excited, Irene makes sure you’re awake. “Love, seriously, wake up.” The way you’re suddenly looking at her with eyes wide open makes her jump. “Yes?” “Were you serious about moving to Jeju?” You nod. “I’ve talked with Yeseo about it, and she agreed.” Irene bursts out laughing, shaking her head in amusement. “Sure, she did.” “Just ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

She plays along with your joke and asks Yeseo about her opinion on moving out of the big city, to which she replies by crying out loud, taking the two of you by surprise. “What, what, what,” you panic, “is she hungry? She’s probably hungry, right?” Irene unbuttons her pajama to expose a nipple Yeseo can latch on, so you hand your daughter over to her to be breastfed.

“Sorry, love, but these tits aren’t solely yours anymore,” Irene quips. You start laughing out loud, finding it difficult to stop. “What—what are you talking about? Why did you say it like that?” Your wife joins you in laughing. “I don’t know—it just felt right to say it.” You shake your head, highly amused by your wife’s odd statement. “It’s fine; I’m totally content with sharing them with Yeseo,” you clarify.

You take one last look at your house that is now empty. “We spent a fortune on this house, didn’t we, love?” You nod in agreement. “It’s crazy how much we bought this place for,” you reply. “I hope you won’t regret moving out,” Irene expresses her concern. You look at her right in the eyes while your hands are on either side of her waist. “We’re doing this for Yeseo—this is bigger than just the two of us, love.”

You walk with her outside towards the driveway, where Yeseo’s stroller is parked. “Isn’t she so cute?” “She is,” you say, “I swear I will do and give everything for you and her.” Irene puts on a big smile.

“We’ll give her a good life and a bright future, love.”

“We absolutely will.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #red velvet smut #irene smut

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serpentandlily · 1 year ago

Text

Arcane - Azriel x Reader

Azriel x DeathGod!Reader

Summary: Azriel never thought he’d find his mate, was convinced the Mother hadn’t even given him one because he was unworthy. That is, until he stumbles upon his mate while looking for the most unusual ally.

Based on this request.

Warnings: very brief illusion to past SA

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Rhys declared, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m afraid another war is on the horizon. Koschei cannot be dealt with alone.”

“I don’t understand. The weaver and the bone carver were able to be killed,” Cassian interjected. “Why is it impossible for us to find a way to kill Koschei?”

“It took the might of the cauldron to defeat them,” Rhys explained.

“Well, then let’s ask Miriam and Drakon if we can use the cauldron,” Cassian replied, giving the obvious answer.

“It would be no use,” Feyre sighed. “I destroyed the book. We’d have no idea how to cast the spell the King of Hybern used that day. And we risk Koschei, himself, getting his hands on the cauldron.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Mor chimed in. “Something, someone, that could be as powerful as the sorcerer himself. He wasn’t the only God that found their way to Prythian.”

“Most of them are locked up in the Prison,” Rhys said. “And the Prison would not allow us to free any of them even if we wanted to.”

“Az, how has your search for Bryaxis been going?” Feyre asked.

“Not good,” Azriel answered honestly. “It’s like that thing disappeared from Prythian entirely.”

The room was silent for a moment until Amren sat up straight. “Wait, there is someone we could go to for help. As a last resort.”

Rhys lifted his head, staring at her with a heavy resolve. “No, absolutely not. It is too dangerous.”

“You said it yourself, we’re out of options!”

“What are you two talking about?” Feyre asked, looking between them.

Rhys let out a long breath. “Bryaxis…had a sibling. If you could even call her that. Someone who also came from wherever he slipped through from.”

“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?” Mor asked with a glare, crossing her arms.

“Because,” Rhys started. “Like I said, it’s too dangerous to get into contact with her. She’s…well, to be honest, no one really knows much about her. She keeps herself in a dark cave somewhere in the middle. Likes the darkness as much as Bryaxis does.”

“If no one knows much about her, then how do you know she’s dangerous?” Feyre asked. “Everyone was scared of Bryaxis until I went down there and was helped by it.”

“I’ve been told stories of her from my father,” Rhys explained. “How in the past, long before any of us were born, she could cause the fall of entire armies. Could level any court into rubble and dust.”

“And if that’s true, then doesn’t it speak to her character that she hasn’t done any of that? Maybe she is good of heart,” Mor suggested.

“We’re out of options, Rhys,” Amren said. “She might be our last hope.”

“Fine,” Rhys sighed. “I guess we better get ready for a trip to the middle.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Azriel glanced at Cassian to see him frowning as they stood in front of the dark cave. It was just him, Cass and Rhys who had come here to try and find this creature to ask for help. But it seemed Cassian was already losing his nerve.

“I tried to tell you,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “Azriel, can you scout ahead with your shadows?”

As soon as those words left Rhysand’s mouth, Azriel’s shadows darted ahead, trailing into the cave in a flurry. Azriel’s eyes widened as he was left standing completely bare, exposed. Not a single shadow had stayed with him, which was unusual. He tried to brush it off, tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt without them.

They waited expectantly but his shadows never returned. Azriel’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can’t call them back,” he said to his two brothers watching him. “They aren’t listening to me.”

“That’s…unusual,” Rhysand said, stroking his jaw.

Nothing more was said as the darkness in the cave seemed to grow and grow, almost extending out towards them despite the sun overhead.

“Who are you?”

The feminine voice was sensual yet sweet, playful almost. Nothing like he had been expecting. It struck something inside of Azriel, making his chest ache. Rhysand stood up straight, switching from brother to the High Lord in a mere second.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” Rhys answered, plucking a piece of lint from his coat. “If my sources are right, I believe you are y/n, sister of Bryaxis.”

“That I am,” the voice answered. “Why are you here? No one ever dares come here.”

Those words might’ve seemed like a threat, but her tone was light, curious.

“We’ve come to beg a boon,” Rhysand answered honestly. “There is another Death God who threatens war. We have been unable to stop his efforts.”

“Nobody has ever asked for my help before,” the voice said back in that same curious tone. “And what of Bryaxis. Will they help as well?”

“Bryaxis…Bryaxis was freed by my High Lady. We have been unable to find them.”

A step in the darkness. Another. Light footsteps came closer and closer to the edge of the cave. Azriel’s heart rate picked up, his hand falling to truth-teller. Cassian’s face was white and he looked ready to flee.

“You are afraid.”

It was not a question. Just a statement. But Rhysand answered it like it was.

“Bryaxis is made of nightmares,” he explained. “Something so terrifying to us. Perhaps you do not see it the same way but I imagine you are much the same and that is why we are…nervous.”

A laugh. A light, lilting laugh. Something sparked in Azriel’s chest.

“Me and Bryaxis are not made of the same thing, but opposite. A balance for our world,” the voice said. “Bryaxis is made of nightmares but I am made of dreams.

“Then why do you hide in the shadows?” The question came out of Azriel’s mouth before he even realized he was speaking. He could see his own shadows now, twirling in the darkness as if they were home.

“When we were captured, Bryaxis caused them fear so they were locked below the earth.” Her voice was sadder now, more serious and Azriel found himself hating that. “But I-I caused them…something different than fear. So they kept me locked in their bed chambers for decades, centuries, until I was able to escape. But then I learned those that did not desire me, feared me instead for the same reason. I was either caged or hunted. That is why I hide here.”

A shiver ran down Azriel’s spine. His face hardened at what she was implying. The fae who had captured the two Gods had locked one beneath the library and had used the other for…He felt sick to his stomach.

“If you are to help us,” Rhysand spoke, “I can promise you that we have no intention of keeping you locked up at all.”

“I do not trust the fae. Bind your words to magic and perhaps I will help you in return.”

“What is it that you want from us?”

It was silent for a moment, as if she were pondering.

“A place to stay. A place to live. Somewhere safe from being hunted or kept as a prisoner. A chance to live in this world, outside of this cave. To get to experience all that you do. That is what I wish for.”

Azriel knew that wish. Knew it all too well. For it was one he had for years while being locked in his father’s dungeon. So maybe that is why he found himself stepping closer to the cave, found himself unafraid of the darkness that had captured his own shadows.

Maybe that was why those words slipped out of his mouth before he could think of the repercussions, before he could be held back by one of his brothers.

“I will promise you that, y/n. I will promise you the opportunity to experience life outside of this cage, outside of the darkness.”

He could feel the heavy stares from his brothers on his back but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look anywhere but that darkness, even though he felt so exposed without his shadows.

Another footstep.

And another.

Until a figure began to emerge from the darkness, finally stepping into the light.

Azriel’s breathed hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

Because before him now stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen. The type of beauty only a Goddess could possess. The type of beauty that had his head spinning, had his heart palpitating in his chest.

She smiled and he felt the whole world pause in that moment. It was a sight that would bring any male to his knees. A sight that could start wars.

She held out a small, delicate hand.

“Then I will help you, shadowsinger,” she said.

He mindlessly took her hand in his, shaking it as the sting of magic burned on both of their skin forming a bargain tattoo on the inner wrist. He looked down at it to see what the magic had created out of their promise to each other.

Swirls of shadows with a small lunar moth emerging at the end. A creature that sought light, finally leaving the darkness.

When he met her eyes again, those beautiful expressive eyes, he stumbled back a step. Stumbled as a golden thread unwound itself in his chest and pierced straight through the universe to the female standing before him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The battle lasted thirty-seven days. Koschei was defeated, the females he had spelled were freed. Beron had been exposed for helping him and was killed by Eris finally, bringing a new leader to Autumn.

And things were finally at peace.

“What are these again?”

Your index finger poked at the spongy thing on your plate. It smelled sweet, good. And it was warm to the touch. You glanced up to see the shadowsinger watching you, amused.

“Those are pancakes,” Azriel answered with a chuckle.

“Pancakes,” you repeated, slowly, testing the word on your tongue. “I thought cakes were desserts. Not breakfast.”

“They are a bit different from cake. Made in a pan instead of baked in the oven, hence the name,” Azriel explained.

You hummed in response, taking a bite out of one of the pancakes. “Hm, just as sweet as cake.”

“I might’ve added a bit more sugar than normal to them,” Azriel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “To satisfy that raging sweet tooth of yours.”

Your cheeks heated, that ticklish feeling in your stomach came again. A feeling you had never felt before this month and still had yet to make sense of. It made something in your chest ache when you looked at Azriel.

“You made these?”

Azriel nodded. “Someone slept through breakfast with the others.”

Your cheeks turned even redder.

“You should’ve woken me up,” you muttered before stuffing more bits of pancake into your mouth.

“You deserve to rest, y/n.” Azriel was still watching you with that little glint in his eyes. “After everything, you deserve to rest.”

Since coming to Velaris to help with Koschei, Azriel had been the one to show you around, to help you learn the customs of the fae. He had so much patience for you and your endless amounts of questions.

The others had helped you as well, had welcomed you into their home with open arms, but there was just something special about Azriel. You felt some sort of pull towards him. As if the darkness inside of you called to his.

He was beautiful, more than any God or male you’d ever seen before. And beneath his icy exterior, he was sweet and kind. Thoughtful. Witty.

You enjoyed being with the others but you preferred times like this, when it was just the two of you. He was less shy, more at ease, when it was just you. And something about that made you happy.

Seeing him smile, even when it was just the faintest expression, brought you joy like you’ve never felt before.

And Gods, he brought out so many emotions you had not felt in a very long time, some you hadn’t even known you could feel. You had begun to crave his presence. Desire it. You wondered if he felt the same.

“Did you still want to come with me to the city today?”

Azriel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. That’s right, Azriel had cryptically told you he needed to pick something up from Velaris today. When you had asked him what he was getting, he had refused to answer.

“Yes, I would like to.”

“We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

An hour later, you found yourself in Azriel’s arms, flying down to the city. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how closely he held you, like he was afraid you’d suddenly fall from his arms. You kept your own arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

You still remembered the few hours after the last battle. The showdown with Koschei had left you depleted, covered in wounds, but otherwise okay. Still, Azriel had burst into your tent with panicked eyes and only seemed to be calmed when you had let him tend to you like a mother hen.

You didn’t know what to make of his behavior. But you did know that being in his arms made you feel safe.

“Can we get more of those honey mooncakes on the way back?” you asked, trying to distract yourself from the ticklish feeling in your stomach again.

Azriel laughed, his chest rumbling against your body as he tightened his grip on you. “That sweet tooth of yours really is insatiable.”

“I didn’t get to finish mine from last time,” you said in defense for yourself. “Cassian got to them before me!”

“Well, next time tell Cassian to go get his own,” Azriel said. His breath ghosted against the tip of your ear, causing a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I buy them for you, not him.”

Once again, you found yourself with red cheeks and a swelling heart. Ever since he had discovered your sweet tooth, Azriel had a habit of leaving sweet treats out for you. At first, he found it hilarious that a Death Goddess craved pastries of all things. But now he found it just downright adorable.

When the two of you returned to the House of Wind, you found Feyre and Mor waiting for you. You barely got out a small goodbye to Azriel before they were pulling you away, telling you it was time to start getting ready for the night.

Tonight was Starfall. Something you hadn’t seen in centuries. The girls helped you get ready as day turned to dusk and finally night.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Mor giggled, leading all of you out of the room and up to the main balcony. You could already hear the crowd and the music.

You felt nervous as you reached the top, your eyes instantly darting around to find that one person you were always looking for these days.

Azriel stood with Rhysand and Cassian, dressed in all black, finely tailored pants and a matching coat. He looked handsome, yet still beautifully lethal. The darkness and light bounced off the elegant planes of his face, causing his hazel eyes to glow golden.

When he caught sight of you, those eyes widened and you felt them roam your entire body. You’d always hated being looked at in such a way, but not with Azriel. Never with him.

In fact, you found yourself getting heated under his stare.

Rhysand and Cassian moved to their respective mates, leaving you to greet Azriel alone. He took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You are stunning,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning. Happy Starfall.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

Azriel gave you a rare smile that had your heart pounding. You peered at the crowd, watching the faeries enjoying their evening. Azriel stood with you, his fingers brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, not when your presence was met with so many stares of both fear and desire.

“What are they doing?” You looked at the crowd of faeries that seemed to all be paired off, moving to the music from the band.

Azriel’s lips twitched, like they always did when you asked him a question like this. “They’re dancing.”

“Dancing,” you repeated. The word sounded familiar, like something you had known in a past life. You had spent so many years in that cave, you had turned into a mere shadow of who you used to be.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel had turned to look down at you, running a hand through his hair. His shadows curled around his wings.

“I don’t think I know how,” you whispered.

He held out his hand to you. “That’s alright. You can follow me lead.”

You bit your lip but decided to take his hand. He had promised you a chance of experiencing the world as it should be. He hadn’t led you astray yet.

He pulled you to the dance floor and you mimicked the other pairs, keeping one hand in his and placing the other on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you closer to him.

The music started up again and Azriel began to lead you through the dance. It was easier than you thought it would be or perhaps he was just a good lead. Still, it wasn’t long before you were smiling and being twirled around in his arms.

You danced like that for a while, basking in the feeling. The soft music, the laughter, the gentle faelights above you. You had never felt so alive. And it was all thanks to the male who held you in his arms.

A slower song came on, some pairs leaving the dance floor. You looked around in question until you realized the pairs who had remained held a more intimate position. You copied them, placing your arms around Azriel’s neck.

Both of his arms wrapped around you now, resting on your lower back.

“Is this okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, letting him drag you even closer until your bodies were pressed together. The dress you were wearing was thin and you could feel all of him through it. His hard chest, his sculpted muscles.

Azriel swallowed audibly, swaying you gently to the music. You laid your head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on top of your head. Every inch of you that touched him was on fire.

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel this, embrace it. You’d never felt like this before. So warm and light. It felt like it was just you and him that existed.

That is until you opened your eyes. You suddenly felt overwhelmed as you noticed lingering stares. A lot of them. You felt uncomfortable under the weight of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you were feeling before you said anything.

“Everyone’s looking at me,” you muttered under your breath, staring up at him.

He raised his head, looking around with narrowed eyes. That caused most of them to look away, not wanting to risk the shadowsinger’s wrath.

“Come on,” Azriel whispered. “I know somewhere we can go that’s more private.”

He enveloped you in his shadows until you were stepping out of the darkness and into a rounded alcove somewhere else on the balcony. Vines dangled down from the roof, trailing down the pillars holding it up.

You stepped forward, placing your hands against the stone railing. You could see the crowd below, the one you had just been in. Still hear the music and still see the night sky. You turned to face Azriel.

“Thank you,” you said. “I-I just hate it when they stare. Like I’m some weird creature.”

Azriel stalked forward until he was right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

“They don’t stare at you because they think you’re weird,” Azriel replied. “They stare at you because you are beautiful.”

His hand rose and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat. Your mouth parted to say something but a roar of cheers cut you off. You whirled around to see thousands and thousands of stars beginning to soar through the sky.

Your mouth dropped open. It was more beautiful than you remembered. The stars kept falling and falling, like cascading fireworks. So bright and breathtaking. You couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped your mouth, standing on your tippy toes to lean over the balcony as if you’d be able to reach the stars.

An arm circled your waist and Azriel’s front was pressed against your back as he held onto you.

“Careful,” he whispered in your ear, scared you were going to tip right over the edge and fall down the steep mountain.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, staring up at the stars. “Oh, it’s so much better than I remembered it from all those years ago.”

“It never stops amazing me,” Azriel said. “No matter how many times I watch it.”

You both watched in silence for a little longer, letting the music and laughter and cheers fill the space. Eventually, you turned in his arms, now pressed against the railing.

“Thank you,” you said again, “for bringing me here.”

“Anything for you,” Azriel whispered, raising a hand to rest on your cheek. His eyes were filled with a reverence that stole your breath away.

A brush of magic zipped by in the air and you gasped, raising up your wrist. The tattoo was gone. The bargain had been fulfilled. You had defeated Koschei and Azriel had given you the opportunity to live a life more than you had dreamed. That chance at life was in your hands now.

“The tattoo is gone,” you said, grasping his arm and pulling back his sleeve.

Your eyes widened to see his tattoo still there. The lunar moth emerging from the swirls of shadow.

“Wha—”

“I got it tattooed,” Azriel cut in. “Permanently.”

You glanced up at him in question. “Why?”

“Because I always want a reminder of what I promised you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “What I still promise you, y/n. A life worth living. I want to continue showing you the world, to be there when you experience new things.”

You were speechless. Completely, utterly speechless.

No one had ever shown such devotion to you, such care and love. Your heart swelled up, your chest ached.

“Azriel,” you stuttered out. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “I was trapped in the darkness once too. I know what that’s like and I never want you to fall back into it. I don’t need anything from you, just the chance to be there with you while you learn, while you feel.”

Something was building inside of you, building and building until it was ready to break out. You rubbed at your chest, at the unusual feeling.

“I feel this…I feel this thing inside,” You said, gesturing to your chest. “Do you know what this is? Do you know why I feel this way?”

Azriel grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, in the exact same spot yours ached.

“It is the mating bond,” Azriel answered, softly. “I feel it too. Right here. I have since the day I met you.”

His shadows swirled around like they had been waiting for this. You felt your own darkness rise in response until the two had joined together, watching together from the dark crevices.

“A mating bond,” you repeated.

Something snapped the moment you said it out loud. As if a question you had been asking your whole life had finally been answered. A gold thread was woven between the two of you, a beacon of light in the darkness. A place for that moth to call home.

You gasped looking back up at Azriel. Now that you recognized the bond, it grew more taut. You stumbled closer to him, fisting his coat in your hands.

“A mate,” you whispered. “You're my mate. I..I didn’t even know Gods could have mates.”

“Say it again.” Azriel’s voice was as dark as the shadows. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Huh?”

“Say it. Say that I’m your mate again.”

“You’re my mate,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “My mate.”

A quiet whine came from the back of Azriel’s throat that sent heat between your legs. Your eyes widened. A muscle in his jaw clenched. The air around you was charged and you felt like you had been set on fire.

“And you are mine,” Azriel growled. “My mate.”

His possessive tone only made that heat grow. Your lips parted, a small breath leaving your lungs. His eyes glanced down to your lips, hungrily. You gave him the smallest dip of the head, the permission he was waiting for.

Azriel surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled, your backside hitting the stone railing behind you. You met his vigor with your own.

His lips were soft and warm. And his kiss felt like heaven and hell all mixed in one.

He groaned as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head back to give him more access. You yanked him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You never craved someone as much as you craved him.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you opened for him, letting him claim your mouth. His scent was intoxicating, he tasted like pure sin. You could drown yourself in him.

Your hands trailed up from his chest to circle around his neck. His own hands were holding you by the waist, pulling your hips into his. They traveled down your thighs until he was lifting you up, seating you on the stone railing, never pulled away from your kiss.

You parted your legs, letting Azriel step even closer as he finally pulled away, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. You whimpered at the feeling of his canines grazing the sensitive skin.

His nose traced the column of your throat before he rested his forehead against yours. You were both panting, both completely lost within each other.

“Wait,” Azriel breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I got you something. I don’t want to forget to give it to you.”

Because he would. He would forget his own name as long as the sweet scent of your arousal filled the air. Would forget the whole world existed if you kept staring at him like you were.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket, handing it over to you.

You opened it, gasping at the beautiful ring displayed inside. It was made of gold with a mesmerizing amethyst gem in the shape of a teardrop, accentuated by crescent moons on both sides and tiny stars.

“Azriel,” you breathed out. “This is beautiful.”

A small smile ghosted his lips.

“May I?”

You held out your hand and he pulled the ring out of the box before sliding it onto your ring finger. It was the perfect fit. You admired it, twisting it under the faelights to see the gem glow.

“It’s perfect,” you sighed.

“I had it made just for you,” Azriel said. “It’s what I had to pick up in the city today.”

“I-I really don’t know what to say, Azriel.”

Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “Just say it again. Tell me you feel this too. I’ve been searching for you for over five hundred years now and I just need to hear you say it. Again and again. Until I can wrap my head around it. Until I realize I’m not dreaming.”

You smiled, lifting up to press a small kiss against his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, at the realization of why exactly the bargain had been fulfilled. You had asked for someplace to be safe, for a home, a chance to live. Azriel was giving you all of that and more.

“You are my mate. And I am yours,” you murmured against his lips. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to find somewhere to call home. Being with you, being in your arms—that feels like home to me, Azriel. The one I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

Azriel’s eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to find the lie in your words. But there was none. Of course there was none. You were falling in love with him.

“Does this mean you want it?”

“It means I want you. I want all of you, everything.”

Azriel smiled and the sight nearly blew you away. You giggled as he held you close to him, buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kissed your throat once, twice.

“Then I think we’re due for a long vacation,” he murmured against your skin.

You knew what he was referring to. The frenzy that would come with this. Just that thought alone caused a tantalizing ache between your thighs.

“I think so too,” you whispered back as Azriel pressed kisses up your neck and jaw.

He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your skin as he stared into your eyes. His gaze was filled with so much promise, so much love. And then he kissed you again and everything felt right in the world. You were home.

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel fic #bryaxis #request

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thedevilspearl · 2 years ago

Text

awkward moments during sex — younger bros

a/n: a continuation of funny and awkward moments that happen during sex with the brothers, but this time with the younger brothers (older brothers here).

tags: 2.5k words. female reader x satan (edging, orgasm control), asmodeus (no warnings), beelzebub (manhandling, breeding kink, mating press, minor injury) + belphegor (mild somnophillia). minors do not interact!

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

your fingers slip nimbly through his blonde hair, gliding through the strands as if they’re made of the finest of silks. satan leaves an entourage of nips and bruises along your neckline, each of them planted with more desperation than the last.

his hips roll against yours; not fast enough, and not slow enough. and yet, he seems to find the perfect combination of pace and rhythm which drives you crazy.

it keeps you in limbo, with hope on one side and despair on the other. a purgatory of sorts.

he loves to torment you like this; his teething grin tells you that. and with his head buried in the nook of your shoulder, he peeps up only to appreciate the overwrought look on your face. your brows furrow in such a way that he doesn’t know if you’re about to cry, or if you’re about to cum.

you suppose that’s why he loves it so much — satan has always been fond of a good mystery, always wanting to discover what comes next in earnest. he’s enthusiastic to say the least.

his rutting hips grow a little more fervent, earning a most dulcet moan from your lips. he captures it in his own, swallowing it whole and locking it away deep in the ravenous hollows of his body. you fill him up in ways he never expected, and he can’t get enough of you.

“satan,” you whimper, evoking a sadistic smirk on his face. “please…”

“please what, my dear?”

the endearment in his voice alone is enough to make your guts feel like they’re being rearranged — though, his cock is doing a perfectly fine job of that already.

“i wanna cum!”

every one of your senses tosses you back and forth over a very thin line. one second, you’re free to fall into a sea of bliss, ready to be washed away by the intensity of the orgasms he brings upon your body. and the next, you’re tied up in the confines of satan’s control. he decides when you finish, not the other way around.

the nerves in your body are working overtime, analysing each second and anticipating whether or not he will give you what you so desperately desire. your brain is moments away from turning numb from the overload of feelings, both physical and emotional.

so much that the creaks of satan’s old, wooden bed go unregistered.

he thrusts harder, faster with the promise that he’ll soon be done with you, and you can finally succumb to the ecstasy you’ve been reaching for.

“satan!” you squeal, locking your trembling legs around his hips. “i’m close!”

“me too, baby,” he grunts with each rut and grabs your cheeks, making sure of the eye contact between you. “we’re almost there.”

he makes a point of driving his cock to the hilt of your pussy, and his strength passes straight through your body into the foundations of his bed. all it takes is one more thrust to break apart the timbers of the worn out wood.

the mattress beneath you softens your land as the bed collapses, but the impact from satan’s body falling on top off you knocks the air out of your lungs. his limbs dig into you and you groan.

“shit,” he mutters, and his hands fly to your face, inspecting your pained expression. “are you okay?”

“not really,” satan rises with you, arms delicately holding your frame until you’re sat upright on the wreck of what was once his bed. “are you?”

“yes,” he chuckles, leaning his head against you before planting a kiss on your cheek. “because the sex was literally bed–breaking. and no, because lucifer is going to have a lot to say about this.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

asmo has tonnes of attention and he loves to give it away freely, just as much as he loves to receive it. you’re special, though. he makes a point of that every time your insecurities begin niggle away at you.

whenever he feels you drawing away, he’ll pull you closer than ever before, never letting you out of his sight. with all the fame and love, most people tend to forget how lonely a person can become. and that’s why he chose you.

you took that loneliness from deep inside and destroyed it in the palm of your hand. you filled all the void parts of his body and soul with your existence alone; no one thinks about the demons a demon can have, and all it took was one smile from you to scare them all away.

you helped him in more ways than one, so he never wants you to feel alone or inferior — you’ll always be his number one despite his fans and fame and ego.

he must say, though, he is quite proud of how far you’ve come. asmo had immediately picked up on those small traits of yours, the ones that signal you spiralling into the pool of your greatest fears. the nervous fidgeting whenever he spoke to other demons at school, the daylight dazing out when you find yourself lost in thoughts, and the sudden silence when he’s livestreaming to his fans, like right now.

asmo was fully prepared to pepper you with praises and kisses as soon as he finished — he’s more than willing to give you attention. but the fact is, you stole it already, along with his breath.

he freezes for a second before licking his lips and glancing back and forth between your teasing and his screen. he mumbles and stutters whilst trying to hide his growing erection from his fans. meanwhile, you sway your hips seductively behind the camera, slipping the silk gown from your shoulders to reveal your naked body.

“today was really fun, my darlings,” he waves and blows a kiss to the screen immediately. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

he taps his screen rapidly before jumping on you, grabbing your ass and lifting you. your lips intertwine in seconds and he drops you onto the mattress with out breaking contact.

“someone’s feeling bold,” he teases between kisses. “i like it.”

“mmh, i figured i should be more forward with my needs,” you say with a daring smile. “i think it seems to be working, don’t you?”

“oh, it’s working,” asmo expertly removes his clothing, and occupies himself in the meantime by kissing up and down your body, burning patterns into your skin until he meets your lips again.

“asmo… hurry.” you whine and he heeds your words, aligning himself with your soaked entrance.

“i love you, my darling,” he feeds you one last kiss before pushing in, and the two of you groan in unison. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, asmo.”

you gasp loudly as his cock stretches your walls, and your clench around his length as if he was made perfectly for you to take. you’re seconds away from screaming his name when—

knock, knock, knock.

you freeze and the knocking is followed by lucifer’s commanding voice.

“asmodeus, you might want to end your livestream before continuing with your… activities.”

“what?!”

scrambling, you gather the blanket against your chest, tucking your legs underneath to hide your nude body. this can’t be happening…

“oh, my,” asmo tuts. “it looks like i pressed the wrong button.”

he makes his way back to his ddd set up on his desk, dragging a blanket to cover himself from the hips down. you expect him to turn it off immediately, but instead he starts reading the flying comments that you’re too embarrassed to even think about.

“hhm, everyone seems to be enjoying it,” he looks to you with a seductively intriguing glint in his eyes. “what do you say, honey? why don’t we give them a show?”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

“oh my goodness, beel!”

juices flow from your pussy and his mouth finally parts with it after bringing you to your umpteenth orgasm. your mind is foggy from the highs and beel rises, hands roaming your body and placing you exactly how he sees fit.

the back of your knees rest against his arms and his hands sneak under your body, locking you in place. he has you folded in half, literally. his feet are planted flat in the mattress and his immense weight pushes you down further.

you haven’t fucked in this position before, but you have a feeling beel is going to destroy your needy cunt. you take a liking to this inner beast controlling him right now; he must be so hungry…

his lips are coated with your essence, the one that works like a spell, entrancing him in such a state that he can only think about how much he needs you.

this is going to be good.

the tip of his enormous cock prods at your entrance and eagerly pushes in. hissing from his girth stretching you out, you wonder if it’s possible that you’ll ever get used to beel splitting you open on his cock.

“ngh,” you groan gutturally, unable to form a decipherable sentence. “s–so big!”

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he growls and pushes in deeper. “gonna fill you with my cum.”

he slams into you, and an unbridled yelp escapes you before he raises his hips, only to slam them back down again. each of his thrusts rattle the entire bedframe and you’re afraid the brother next door might storm in with noise complaints.

a cacophony of sinful sounds fill the room — beel’s animalistic growls, your wanton moans, the obscenely lewd noises coming from your bodies, and of course, the shaking of everything around you.

he’s fucking you so hard it might cause an earthquake.

the mattress bounces along with both of your bodies, fucking like animals in heat. his cock drags in and out of your pussy and you’re losing count of all the orgasms he’s forcing you to endure. you’re extremely sensitive from him eating you out for hours and you don’t know how long it will take for beel to feel some sort of satiation.

being both starved and gluttonous is a dangerous combination, and this version of beel is a prime example of that. he pushes your thighs down further, allowing himself to explore deeper and you feel another orgasm creeping on you.

and it’s only a matter of time before beel finishes too, and he’s going to fill you to the brim with his cum before using it to fuck you some more, pushing his seed deep inside you. you can’t wait for the day he finally breeds you.

“fuck, beel!” you screech, not caring how ridiculously desperate you sound. “come on, stuff me full with your cum! want you to knock me up!”

“gonna fill you up,” he grunts with every thrust. “i’ll fill you with my—”

“aah, i’m so tired… wait, what’s going on here?”

before you can look in the direction of the door, beel literally flips you over and flings your body to the side, unknowingly using his full strength which causes you to collide into the wall.

“what the fuck?!” you yelps, tears brimming your eyes from the impact.

did he just throw you across the room?

but you have no time to yell at him because belphegor is standing in the doorway with his eyes locked onto your naked body. your hands fly to hide your private parts, but you are stark naked and daring not to move.

meanwhile, beel sits nonchalantly on his bed, covering his crotch with the sheets. “nothing. nothing is going on.”

belphie doesn’t seem convinced, which doesn’t come as a surprise and he slowly backs out, closing the door behind him.

not a second after he leaves, you throw the dirtiest, most disgusted look of betrayal at beel. “every man for himself, huh?”

“i’m so sorry, mc,” he glooms. “i panicked.”

“panicked? you threw me across the room!”

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

“belphie,” you whisper, shaking the shoulders of his sleeping form. “belphie, wake up.”

a grumble sounds from his limp frame, and you roll your eyes, shaking him harder.

“belphie, please wake up,” and with a sigh, you add, “i’m horny.”

again, nothing.

chewing on your lips in thought, your hands mindlessly graze over your body — your breasts, squeezing them with a gasp; your hips, grabbing them exactly where belphie loves; and your thighs, digging into your flesh with desperation.

you don’t realise your pitiful actions, nor the broken moan that escapes you until belphie rolls onto his other side, his back now facing you.

a pout forms on your lips and you grab him again, shaking him with all your might. but your frustration passes right through his sleeping form.

“belphegor, wake up right now! i need you!”

“keep it down…”

giving up, you flop onto the mattress beside him, unable to remove your eyes from his peaceful face. as unsatisfactory as his response is, your body still needs to be put at ease. and you can’t do that without some form of relief.

before you know it, your fingers slip below the line of your underwear and a shaky breath escapes you. you make work of yourself, thrusting your fingers in and out while imagining belphie’s cock driving hard into your pussy.

what you would give for him to open his eyes and plant his fingertips into the softness of your hips, holding you in place beneath his sweating body as he slams into you, his cock making its mark all along your walls.

“fuck…” you whimper, with a hint of his name among your quiet moans as you cum.

belphie has yet to move an inch, completely ignorant to you and your orgasm. so much for quality time. with your eyelids drooping, you allow yourself to sink into the sheets and pillows, carefully snuggling into belphie’s body as to not wake him.

an hour passes, or maybe two, possibly more and belphegor finally stirs. he yawns with little energy and rolls onto his back, but his arm stays wrapped around you, tucking you into his chest. all it takes is one look for that swirling sensation in his stomach to come alive.

he looks down at his crotch and sees that the problem goes further than so–called butterflies; his hardened cock stretches the material of his pants. morning wood has never been so persistent since you came along.

every remnant of sleep is gone in an instant and he’s on top of you, lips pressed against your neck and hands sneaking up your shirt, squeezing your hips on their way to your tits.

“hah…” small gasps and moans escape him as his hips jut against you. “what are you doing to me?”

he hates that innocent look on your face, so oblivious to the effect you have on him and to what he is doing to you. but that innocence is also what turns him on. god, he could just devour you whole like the sick demon he is and you wouldn’t know a thing because you’re far to busy dreaming something sweet.

it’s almost like he can smell it, the dream. or, a more logical explanation would be the sweetness between your legs. your glistening slit has him drooling when he pulls your panties away and he soon makes work of freeing his aching cock from his own clothes.

“mc,” he whispers against you with a kiss. “wake up, i’m horny.”

your eyes open slightly, and as soon as you register his hot, naked body above you, you roll over to the side with a huff.

“not now, belphie. i’m tired.”

well, he supposes this is what he deserves. it’s a taste of his own medicine, after all.

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anonymousewrites · 7 months ago

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Sixteen

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Summary: Makoto (ew) shows up, and Saiki has to take precautions for his own life to not have more trouble. Luckily, he has (Y/N) to help him.

Saiki crossed his arms and contemplated throwing Makoto out the window for the hundredth time since he met him. Saiki had been looking forward to this event all week. (Y/N) had finally come over and was going to show him how to properly make coffee jelly at home, but as soon as they’d gotten set up, Makoto Teruhashi had barged his way in crying about how Teruhashi was angry at him (rightfully so, he was being perverted as usual). He had ruined the entire night, and Saiki’s sanity wasn’t certain it could take much more of Makoto’s rambling.

A single glance at (Y/N)’s weirded-out face confirmed they felt the same way and wanted him gone as soon as possible.

“So, that’s what happened, and Kokomi hasn’t said a word to me since then,” said Makoto, finally finishing.

“Go home, you perv,” said Saiki.

“Please, please, do.” (Y/N) nodded aggressively.

Unfortunately, Makoto ignored them to wallow in his own sadness and decided to talk some more. “To think we’re having a lover’s quarrel—”

“You’re really not,” said (Y/N).

“—I’m in such a pickle,” said Makoto. “Oh, by the way, when I say ‘lovers’ quarrel,’ I mean between Kokomi and me.”

“We wish you didn’t,” sighed (Y/N).

“I’m the only one who can have a lovers’ quarrel with Kokomi,” said Makoto.

“Get to the point so you can get out,” said Saiki.

Makoto leaned forward. (Y/N) leaned back. “Tomorrow my drama will be filming in my neighborhood. A lot of industry people will be there, too. Once they notice Kokomi’s beauty, that’s it. What do you think will happen if they scout her?!”

“Don’t care,” said Saiki.

“She’d be very successful,” said (Y/N), knowing Teruhashi would do very well due to her beauty and people’s love of her.

“Yes! Right after her debut, she’ll be cast as the heroine in a TV drama,” said Makoto. “She’ll be the heroine in plays and movies. She’ll be in many commercials! She’ll even be stealing work from other popular actresses.” He scoffed. “I won’t allow it! Kokomi has no interest in showbiz. So, I’ll give you permission to tell her to avoid the filming location at all costs. But don’t say anything else, four eyes. Don’t even make eye-contact. You can’t even get within ten meters of her!” Makoto glared at Saiki.

“That’s unreasonable for anyone,” said Saiki.

“Well, I’d prefer to tell her myself, but we’re having a lovers’ quarrel, so don’t screw this up.” Makoto rose and left the room.

“I don’t usually dislike people, but he really creeps me out,” said (Y/N), shivering.

“And now he’s gotten me involved,” said Saiki.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’ll tell Kokomi so you don’t have to be more involved,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“Thank you.” Saiki was so grateful to have (Y/N) in his life. They really were incredible.

“My brother came to see you?” said Teruhashi. “Oh, I’m sorry he caused you trouble.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” said Saiki.

“It’s nothing,” lied (Y/N).

“But, uhm, why is Saiki standing all the way over there?” said Teruhashi.

(Y/N) looked behind them where, ten meters away, Saiki stood. “Your brother.”

“What?” said Teruhashi. “Oh, my, I’m so sorry about him.” She smiled sweetly. Stupid big brother! He’s giving Saiki trouble! I have to offer a token of apology. Hmm Ah! She looked up to see (Y/N) and Saiki walking away since they’d given the message. “W-Wait, Saiki, are you free after school today?” That’s right, apology. Saiki, how luck you are to get this opportunity. I have to apologize, so my hands are tied.

Why aren’t you considering (Y/N)? thought Saiki.

“Would you like to…go out for some tea on our way home?” said Teruhashi, looking eagerly at Saiki. “Or go to a neighboring town since they’re filming here?”

(Y/N) felt their heart drop since this was so much like a date, and no other guy in school would even think about saying no. They hoped Saiki would, though. It would hurt if Saiki wanted to date Teruhashi and not them. It really would.

I’ll treat you for a date! Now feel honored! Even though this is only as a token of apology. Teruhashi glanced at (Y/N). And (Y/N), although I like you, you get a lot of attention from Saiki, and it’s my turn as the perfect pretty girl. Now, come on, and say “oh, wow.”

Saiki, about to say no, paused and decided to say something else that would create problems for him, but it would make a point to Teruhashi about her thoughts about (Y/N)—that was one thing he didn’t let slide.

“(Y/N) and I are free this afternoon. We’ll accept your apology.” Saiki turned and walked away.

Teruhashi’s jaw nearly dropped open as Saiki, seemingly (and actually) unperturbed, invited someone else out with him and her when she had given him the chance to be alone with her.

(Y/N) found themself grinning. “See you later, Kokomi!”

“Right, yeah.” Teruhashi raised a hand, still in shock. But he should’ve said, “oh wow…”

“Didn’t want to be alone with her?” asked (Y/N) teasingly.

“If I said no, her followers would’ve hated me. I don’t want that attention,” said Saiki. And, in a more truthful sense, the rudeness would hopefully make Teruhashi stop liking him as much (which, apparently, he’d have to try some more). Also, Saiki got more time with (Y/N). He didn’t mind that.

After school, Teruhashi, Saiki, and (Y/N) ended up at the next town over. Unfortunately for Saiki, attention was coming to their group as everyone watched the perfect pretty girl grace their streets with her mere presence. Additionally, Saiki was dealing with Teruhashi’s fantasies of him saying “Oh, wow” and how she believed he was totally in love with her and freaking out about the chance to be close to her.

Luckily, Saiki had (Y/N) walking alongside him, and Saiki could put up with a lot to spend time with them.

“What’s that guy near her doing?” whispered one guy.

“I bet he’s her funding source,” sneered another.

“I wanna punch him from behind,” said a third.

I don’t want to deal with that, though, thought Saiki.

“Kusuo, Kokomi, do you like sweets?” said (Y/N), saving the day (in Saiki’s mind) yet again. “I saw an ad for a café nearby that looks super good.”

I’ll have some cake with (Y/N) before leaving.

Closed. The café’s sign was turned around to say it was closed.

(Y/N) sighed, disappointed. “I really thought it would be open. Sorry, Kusuo, Kokomi.” They really were sorry. They wanted to have a nice time with Saiki (and Teruhashi), but it hadn’t worked out.

“Well, we can always go over to the shopping district,” suggested Teruhashi, eager to try to get some of her own ideas in to impress Saiki. “We came all this way. Let’s find some good new places. Let’s go!”

Unfortunately for Teruhashi, an hour of walking at her direction passed, but they found zero restaurants. Teruhashi’s glowing smile had fallen into a sickly attempt at one due to exhaustion. (Y/N) was feeling peckish, and Saiki was also losing interest in continuing to follow Teruhashi. That being said, it was fairly fascinating to see everything not work out for Teruhashi.

“E-Excuse me.” A boy nervously stepped forward and blushed. “May I help you with something?”

“We’re looking for a place to get some tea,” said Teruhashi sweetly, her glow returning.

“O-Oh, yeah, sure!” said the boy excitedly.

“Hey, I saw her first!” shouted another.

“I’ll show you the way,” offered another from the crowd.

Never mind. Everything worked out for her.

“The sun is harsh today. Please borrow this parasol,” offered a man.

“Here’s a coupon to the café,” said the first boy again. “I’ll go ahead and reserve a table for you.”

“Wow, thank you,” said Teruhashi, smiling.

“Oh, wow!” said the entire crowd.

“It’s amazing how everything works out for her,” said (Y/N). They laughed. “I need some of that charisma.”

“I think you’re fine the way you are,” said Saiki. Besides, he’d watch out for them. As long as he was around, they’d be alright.

At the café, Teruhashi continued to be surrounded by other men while (Y/N) and Saiki sat across from her eating cake and drinking tea. She was satisfied, though, for now, since she had a whole group of people going “oh, wow!”

Saiki made me totally forget it, but now I remember. I’m a perfect pretty girl! Having recharged her confidence, she turned back towards (Y/N) and Saiki, eager for more “oh, wows.”

Yare yare. Teruhashi really is tough. I’ll just get through this and hurry home with (Y/N). I wonder if they’re done filming.

(Y/N) sighed happily as they finished their tea. This is nice. I’ll have to come back here at some point when there aren’t as many people crowded around. And I should bring Kusuo.

Saiki straightened as he heard Makoto and his director thinking about how they were changing location. They’re coming this way?! He took another bite of his cupcake. I should really do something soon. He took his time savoring the sweets.

“These were delicious, weren’t they, Saiki, (Y/N),” said Teruhashi.

“Yeah, they were super good,” said (Y/N), smiling.

We took our time, but this town is big. Hopefully we won’t run into him.

Nothing worked out for Saiki, though, and due to the ground, Makoto and his assistant decided to stop at that café.

Saiki stood. We better leave quickly.

“Are you ready to go, Kusuo?” said (Y/N).

Saiki stared at them and then out the window. (Y/N) observational skills paid off, and they saw the blue hair of Makoto Teruhashi in the van outside.

“You’re right, it’s time to go,” said (Y/N), standing. “We finished everything, after all.”

“Can we wait a bit?” said Teruhashi. “They want me to shake hands with them, so…” She smiled and let the line form, focusing on being the perfect pretty girl.

“Kusuo, what do we do?” whispered (Y/N).

“I’ll flip the sign.” His psychokinesis flipped the open sign to closed.

They tensed, but the two men walked back to their van instead of walking in.

“We did it,” said (Y/N).

“We should still probably leave in case they return,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) nodded vigorously. “Good idea.”

“6,850 yen, please,” said a waiter.

“Oh, I’m paying!” said Teruhashi, smiling and walking over. “How much is it?”

“Oh, you are? Two hundred yen, I guess,” said the waiter, blushing.

“Oh, that cheap? And I have coupons,” said Teruhashi happily.

“Then it’s twenty yen,” said the waiter.

“I hope I get reborn as a pretty girl in my next life,” said Saiki.

“I think you’re fine the way you are,” teased (Y/N), smiling at Saiki.

“I wonder if they’re done filming,” wondered Teruhashi. “But Saiki, (Y/N), what do you think?”

“We’ll go straight home,” said Saiki.

To support him—since (Y/N) knew at this point Saiki wanted to really go home, so they wouldn’t push his boundaries—(Y/N) nodded. “I should probably get my homework done sooner rather than later.”

Saiki paused, his clairvoyance showing him that the film crew was at the train station. He nearly sighed. It appeared they’d be stuck here a while longer.

Teruhashi perked up, deciding that Saiki must be fighting with his own insecurity about hanging out with her.

(Y/N) tilted their head, understanding they were facing another obstacle.

“Hey, if you’re not in a rush, you and I could hang out some more, Saiki,” said Teruhashi. She smiled. “Even if (Y/N) heads home, you don’t have to go.”

“Well, Kusuo and I were going to do homework together, so I guess I have to wait,” said (Y/N).

Teruhashi deflated slightly. I thought I’d get some alone time with Saiki. It’s almost as if (Y/N) knows to stick around.

They are good at covering for me. Saiki liked that—yet another characteristic in a long list that he liked about them.

“Oh, look, I haven’t been to a place like that for a long time!” said Teruhashi as she led them to an entertainment arcade. “There are so many choices!”

This might actually be a fortunate turn of events in terms of making Teruhashi hate me, thought Saiki.

“A karaoke place, so cool!” said Teruhashi, trying to hint to Saiki. I don’t feel like bowling. I wanna go karaoke.

With that, it was decided.

“Another split? I have no luck today,” laughed (Y/N) as they, once again, had a terrible turn in bowling.

Since Teruhashi didn’t want to, Saiki had absolutely wanted to. This would help get her to lose interest in him.

“Strike!” announced the computer screen after Saiki went.

Teruhashi deflated.

The entire game, Saiki made sure to humiliate (Y/N) and Teruhashi with his “skill” (psychic power). That way, Teruhashi would really lose her feelings for him. It was a little mean, but Saiki was eager to have her stop chasing him around. It caused him trouble. At least (Y/N) wasn’t embarrassed and just laughed at their own lack of bowling ability.

Still, Teruhashi wasn’t done yet, but Saiki was up to every challenge.

When she saw a claw machine with a gorillabbit, he instead won the strawberry stuffed animal and handed it to (Y/N). They turned red and fought to thank him normally, trying to rationalize that Saiki was just trying to frustrate Teruhashi. (Obviously he did it just to annoy Teruhashi, not because he saw them looking at it earlier and thought they’d like it). Teruhashi deflated once more.

When she challenged Saiki to table tennis, he beat her terribly. History repeated itself in darts and video games. Soon, Teruhashi was just sitting on a bench with a blank look on her face, disinterested and disappointed in everything.

Maybe we went a little far. “Is she going to be okay?” said (Y/N), looking at her faraway stare.

“She’ll rebound once someone says ‘oh, wow’ to her,” said Saiki.

“Let’s head home,” sighed Teruhashi.

“Good idea,” said Saiki.

“It is getting late,” said (Y/N).

“I’m exhausted,” sighed a voice behind them on the bench facing the other direction.

(Y/N) and Saiki’s eyes widened, and they whirled.

It was Makoto and part of his team. Because of all the people, Saiki hadn’t differentiated Makoto’s thoughts from anyone else’s, and now they were right there near them and Teruhashi.

“Four eyes?” said Makoto, blinking. “Other one?”

I don’t even get a name?

“Kokomi?!” cried Makoto, seeing his sister walking away. His surprised gaze turned to anger as he assumed Saiki was on a date with Teruhashi (which was bizarre since (Y/N) was also there, but Makoto doesn’t have a good head on his shoulders).

“What’s wrong?” asked his assistant, walking over.

“We have to go,” said Saiki, standing and grabbing (Y/N)’s hand. He pulled them behind him, and they followed quickly.

“Hey, Kokomi, come on!” said (Y/N) brightly, and when she looked confused, Saiki made a drastic move and dragged her along by the hand.

“They held her hand! Get those two!” shouted Makoto, and his people looked around wildly to try to spot them.

I thought he didn’t want her to get attention! thought (Y/N) as Saiki pushed Teruhashi into a photo booth.

“Hey, what—” The flash went off, and Teruhashi blinked before looking back at Saiki. In the haze of light, she drew her hand back. Oh, my! How dare he take my hand and push me into a photo booth. He wants photos of me that badly?! So selfish. And yet…why am I this excited? To know he was willing to be so confident, so forward…wow.

Saiki nearly stared in astonishment as Teruhashi went back to liking him even more, but he just retreated to another photo booth to avoid the search party Makoto had instigated. He and (Y/N) stood silently as the men ran past and the photos flashed in the other booth to keep Teruhashi distracted (and, now, invested in her fantasy that Saiki wanted something to remember her by).

Saiki sighed. “Yare yare. She likes me even more now.”

“I’m sorry, Saiki,” said (Y/N), giving him a half-hearted smile. “But she does seem to really like you.” And although I think I like you for other reasons and am more aware of it, I can understand.

“I should have let you take her hand,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Everyone makes a mistake.” They smiled and lifted their hands, still holding each other. “And my hand was already taken.” They spoke teasingly, but there was a warmth that, if Saiki knew their thoughts, he’d see as affection above that of friendship.

Saiki looked down at their hands and contemplated it for a moment. Although he was not one for physical touch, he’d initiated this, and now that he was holding (Y/N)’s hand, he found he didn’t want to let go. They were warm, and it was comfortable. Just like talking with them or spending time with them, it felt natural to be this close to (Y/N).

“Do you want to take a photo?” said Saiki.

(Y/N) brightened and looked at him. “How did you know I wanted to?” They knew he couldn’t read their mind with their germandium earrings on (which they would never take off).

He didn’t. He just knew that he suddenly wanted to capture this moment, to remember how nice it was to be with (Y/N), the person he had a crush on. “You mentioned you like having photographs to remember moments to Yumehara while we were Okinawa on the beach.” And I hope you had fun with me, even if I was focused on getting Teruhashi to stop liking me.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’d love to, Kusuo.”

Saiki really liked hearing the word love and his name in the same sentence when it came from (Y/N).

Saiki looked at the photobooth pictures in his hand in his room. Carefully, he placed it on his desk, leaning against his plant, so he could see it clearly. He sat quietly and looked at it with a now-familiar warmth glowing in his chest.

Three photos stared back at him.

One had Saiki looking emotionless as usual while (Y/N) beamed and raised their hands—still entwined—like a superhero in the air.

The second had (Y/N) making half a heart with their pointer and middle finger while Saiki looked at it.

The third has Saiki completing the heart, still no expression, but his gaze was firmly on (Y/N)’s joyful face.

As he looked at the pictures, Saiki smiled.

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#a not so disastrous romance #x gn reader #gn reader #x reader #x nb reader #nb reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusou no psi nan #kusuo saiki #saiki k #saiki x reader #saiki no psi nan #saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.

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str4ngergirlw0rld · 5 months ago

Text

eddies never considered himself lucky, not with anything, not with girls not with guys not with his family not with anything.

not when his dad beat him and his mom to a pulp and walked out only to come back 2 years later with bloodshot eyes , red nostrils and a baby on his hip.

not when harley jones asked him on a date only to take his virginity in the back of his van and never talk to him again.

not when billy hargrove asked him to do his homework and he purposely wrote an essay on his behalf about how much he hated mrs. o’donell.

not when you showed up on his doorstep , asking him out on a date and he declined thinking he was some butt of a joke , making you walk home in the rain after walking an hour as a grand gesture for him in your cheer uniform carrying droopy flowers you had picked for him.

eddie wasn’t lucky not at all.

the clock on eddies side table reads 7:00 am in bright blaring numbers. eddies rubs his eyes to rid himself of sleepies and sits up , throwing on his favorite garfield boxers and an old ratted metallica shirt.

the knocking on his trailer grows rapid hence why hes up so early.

“i’m comin , i’m comin fuck hold on” he yells

throwing the door open eddies jaw drops , you’re the last person he expected at the door , if he knew it was you he would have made himself presentable.

you look so pretty , clad in your cheer uniform, rain droplets dripping off your eyelashes , knee high socks he can only assume are doing nothing to keep you warm. a pony tail holding your curled hair and flowers he can only assume you just picked from the side of the road , he can tell because he picks those for his mommas grave , purples amongst yellows amongst pinks and oranges, shining brightly in contrast to the gray sky.

“he-heyy what the fuck are you doing here?”

is the first thing that slips out of his mouth , your eyes blow wide.

“no no i didnt mean it like that i’m just shocked you’re here , did you walk here ? at 7 in the morning? in the rain?” he rambles “yeah i did , is that okay?” you ask , hesitance heavy in your voice “more than okay sweetheart, why are you here?” his voice filled with sweetness , making you hopeful of his answer to your question.

“i just wanted to know if you’d wanna go on a date with me , we can watch a movie , i know they’re showing some horror movies , i planned it out, i’ll pay for your ticket , i uh also thought we could get burgers and shakes at bennys , hes my uncle i’ll convince him to give the meal to us for free , he usually does he has a soft spot for me, i see you around alot , i think you’re handsome , i know my brother loves you and i know theres gotta be lots of reasons why” your head starts bopping , excitement laced in your voice. awaiting his answer.

eddies heart plummets to his feet , he wanted to believe this , to be hopeful that this wasn’t some cruel joke but he can’t not after holly. he cant help but roll his eyes.

you catch it , smile and arms dropping , your nails pressing into your hand where you’re holding the flowers you picked for him.

“why the fuck are you here y/n ?” the sweetness from his voice long gone , replaced with bitterness and venom “i-i just told you why eddie what do you mean” your voice trembles “no the real fucking reason , i don’t want you to stand there and lie to me what the fuck y/n i thought you were different but you’re just like them , you will not make a joke out of me , thats a dick move, go home. my answer is no , tell your friends that this didn’t work and maybe go prank someone else” he slams the door shut , palms opening and closing , sweating, he wants to look out, see the angry look on your face when you realize your plan didn’t work, instead hes faced with something much worse.

the flowers that once stood high we’re drooping in your hand , your back shaking hard with despair and a distraught look on your face as rock your head in a back and forth no motion tears dripping down your face , one hand pressed to your chest he can assume for comfort and the other holding waynes wrist where hes cupping your face lightly, cooing at you as you recount what just aspired to him, his heart burns with pain when he sees waynes eyes tearing up aswell. both of you soaked with rainwater.

he watches as you calm down , watches as wayne grabs a jacket from his car and covers your shaking frame with it , watches as wayne drops a kiss on your forehead and lets you walk away. watches as you walk further down the road disappearing from his sight. watches as wayne stomps to the door. but hes too afraid to go out and speak to you , too afraid to apologize because he already fucked up.

“what is wrong with you boy? i know i raised you , why you actin like ya father ? making a girl cry and having her walk home in the rain, you find out a way to apologize, i don’t care that ya think she pranked ya , she and her brother been coming here every morning asking for you , she built up the courage to ask you out and you turn her down so easily, fix this, don’t make me tell you again.” wayne tells eddie , wiping the tears on his face “fix this”

eddie doesn’t waste a second throwing his shoes on and grabbing two jackets. he’ll do whatever it takes.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader angst #eddie fic

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heavenlyvision · 1 year ago

Note

hi lovely !! idk if your requests are open or not (if not feel free to just ignore this🤍)

okay so !! bi-han x fem!reader (or gn!)

maybe bi-han and the reader do not like each other (LIKE at all) and are always bickering/making snarky remarks at each other but maybe the reader sees bi-han hurt and turns soft on him, cleaning his wounds ect while also still making sarcastic and snarky remarks at each other? (maybe smut but if not that’s okay as well 🫶🏻)

My requests are open! And I am very happy to receive requests or any messages in general! I love your idea, I just hope I did it justice <33

Bickering

Wc: 3.7k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, grinding, dirty talk, mentions of injury, I think that’s it!

The man makes you mad, Bi-Han that is, you can never seem to get along with him long enough. You try and create openings to better your relationship with him, but they always seem to fall flat, and you both end up at each other’s throats. Living at the temple and helping Liu Kang as an advisor of sorts, unfortunately, means you are regularly exposed to Bi-Han and his less than stellar moods. The man is unbearable, and you’ve tried so hard to tolerate him for Liu Kang, but he could put in some effort to respect you. Dear God, the man has the manners of a, well… there is no comparison, he is mannerless and rude.

Some people might disagree with you, but that just means they haven’t actually spoken to him before. Even his own brother Kuai Liang gives you sympathetic looks when Bi-Han starts having a go at you for things, that frankly, you were not even involved in. Today is no different, Liu Kang, Kuai Liang, Tomas, Bi-Han, and yourself are currently in the war room. Considering your next moves regarding a small group of ‘rebels’, they’re just some people throwing a fit and attacking the Lin Kuei. The whole thing is more annoying than it is daunting, Liu Kang has offered support, which means that you have offered support.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes dramatically, “Terrible, your plan is… terrible.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in response, you’re getting tired of this. This is like the sixth plan he’s shot down; it is the first plan he has called terrible though. Probably because it was your plan.

“Maybe you should think up your own plan then, instead of shooting down all of ours.” You’re sharp with him, usually you wouldn’t snap back so quickly but today you’re tired, hungry, and sick to death of his entitlement.

“I thought you were here to be helpful; I would not have asked if I had known how bad your plan would be.” He doesn’t even look your way as he insults you.

You can’t help the massive eye roll he invokes from deep within you.

He grunts in your direction, “don’t roll your eyes at me, think of something useful and I will be pleased.” Then, because he can’t help himself, he adds, “Surprised, but pleased.”

A large groan is pulled out of you in response, “ahhhhhh! oh my god, stop being such a dick and make a plan, and then leave, preferably for ever.”

“I think, you would miss me.” where he got that idea, you have no idea, probably the same place he got that massive ego he drags around with him.

You make a gagging noise, “I am sorry, but you’re fully deluded by your own ego.”

He side eyes you with a knowing glance, what he thinks he knows, you aren’t sure, like you said, the man is deluded.

“Mhm, why don’t you become useful and think of a worthwhile idea, that or go make some tea.” He’s amused, you can tell in his tone, he finds himself hilarious.

“Why don’t you turn in for the day? I think you might be sundowning in your old age.”

“I am not that much older than you!” He’s turned to you fully, getting closer to you. You touched a sore spot, you guess.

“If we’re lying to each other, then sure.” You shrug your shoulders at him.

You’re both engaged in an intense stare down, both pissy with each other, it always ends this way. Both so annoyed with each other you end up glaring and hoping for the other to walk away. Usually, because you’re the bigger person, you will walk away but not this time, you’re standing your ground.

Your idea was good, and he knows it, he’s just pissed he didn’t think of it first. The group is small and they’re camping not far from the Lin Kuei’s base, the only trouble is getting to them before they can realise and either, kill themselves, taking anything they know about their orders and plans with them, or kill the suspected hostages they have. The situation is an upsetting one to be sure but it’s not a particularly difficult mission.

They’re only being so cautious because this group is being especially bold, but they’re stupid. They were spotted days ago, the only thing they have going for them is their audacity. The answer, to you, anyways is obvious, but you’re also not particularly emotionally invested. In fact, right now you’re bored and still hungry.

Liu Kang breaks the stare down up, ever the mediator, “Okay, I think that’s enough from both of you.”

A hand on your shoulder has you turning your head to the side and seeing Kuai Liang standing beside you, “I’m sorry about him.” He nods his head to Bi-Han.

“Do not apologise on behalf of me, I am not sorry,” He huffs out at his brother.

Ignoring Bi-Han you reply directly to Kuai Liang, “I am used to it.” You pat his hand on your shoulder in assurance.

You turn towards Liu Kang, “I trust I am not needed here any further?”

“No, you may go, thank you for your input.” He replies, his eyes also sympathetic.

Walking away you give a thumbs up to the group and when you lock eyes with Bi-Han you stick your tongue out at him, scrunching your face up in his direction, he raises an eyebrow at you in response.

As you continue towards the door you pass Tomas on your way out and he looks at you like you’re a kicked puppy. You give him a pat on the chest and smile on the way out. Bi-Han’s brothers are two of your favourite people so your disdain for Bi-Han himself is kind of hilarious to you, in a ‘the universe is one big joke’ kind of way.

❆˖°

You enjoy your time with Liu Kang, but you aren’t really an advisor; you think it’s more of a glorified assistant kind of a role, but you love it all the same. And though he doesn’t look like it, Liu Kang loves to gossip, to a certain extent anyways. He is adamant that it is not gossip and is just him keeping you informed on topical events occurring within the temple and amongst the people that could be relevant to you, but that is literally what you call gossip.

But his penchant for keeping you informed is how you know Bi-Han didn’t use your plan but spent almost all-day agonising over what he should do next, he was indecisive but had decided he wasn’t using your idea. You get satisfaction from knowing it took him longer to think of a plan solely because he refused to use yours.

“Try not to look so happy about it when they get back, I am sure he does not need you being glib after a mission that could result in casualties.” Liu Kang tells you; he’s basically telling you to have some decorum.

“If it were anyone else, I would not be feeling this deep sense of glibness.” You add, “Plus I am not that big an asshole, I genuinely hope all goes well, I won’t even say anything when he gets back.”

You sincerely don’t plan on saying anything to him about his plan, you want it to all go well. But just knowing that he bent over backwards thinking of a ‘better’ plan made by himself is really vindicating for you, internally.

“It would be better if you both could get along, he will be here more frequently, after I gather my champions of Earth Realm.” He reminds you, it’s not the first time he has brought this up.

“I am aware, and I have really tried but he’s sooo grumpy and mean. You know how much of a delight I usually am! It is literally just him.” You’re whining at him a bit.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, he finds you amusing, “Maybe you two clash because of a different… underlying reason.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” You don’t really know what he is implying but you don’t like it, “we clash because he sucks and is rude.”

He chuckles a bit at your sulking, “Well, if things go well, they will be back this afternoon or evening.”

It’s been a few days since the meeting in the war room and the boys have been gone for two of them. The timeline checks out, assuming all goes well on their end.

You nod your head in reply to Liu Kang, “sooo, lunch?”

“Fine, but I am not making it this time,” is his reply.

“Ughhhhh, fine.” You wanted him to make it, “only if you make the tea.”

“Alright.” He’s shaking his head at you, but you take the small victory.

❆˖°

The evening air is nice, a cool breeze freely flowing as you walk through the temple. You couldn’t sleep, the guys didn’t come back in the afternoon or early evening like you originally suspected they would. And you’ll admit it, you are a little concerned, for all of them, unfortunately. You are aware of how skilled they are but you can’t help but stress a little bit, you’d feel uneasy if Liu Kang was gone and you know he is more than capable.

You pace past the front steps of the temple for what feels like the fiftieth time in the last hour, and then finally, you see them walk up the steps. You feel a sigh of relief come from you at seeing them.

“oh, thank god,” you whisper out.

All three of them walk up to you, both Tomas and Kuai Liang put their hands on either of your shoulders, giving you a small smile. You sag with your relief at seeing them, it feels a little dramatic, but they usually are on time, compulsively so.

“I’m glad you’re all alright.” You tell them.

Bi-Han grunts at you off to the side but you ignore him, “It all went well, but we’re probably going to turn in for the evening.” Tomas informs you.

Nodding your head at the pair of them, “All good, I just wanted to see you guys get back safely.”

Bi-Han has already walked away from the three of you, but he’s oddly not walking towards his quarters.

You’re brought back to the two men in front of you when Kuai Liang says, “The mission was successful, but it wasn’t… smooth, Bi-Han’s in a bad mood over it.”

“Maybe you could talk to him, cheer him up?” Tomas adds.

You make a face at that, “I don’t really think I would be the best person for that.”

Tomas smiles a little, “I don’t know, I think he likes you; I mean he actually talks to you.”

“Yeah, but he’s an ass when he does talk to me.” Is all you can reply with.

They both share a knowing look between the two of them, a secret brother communication happening right in front of you, rude.

Kuai Liang breaks the moment of silence, “We are going to turn in for the night but thank you for worrying, good night.”

“Alright, I’m just glad you came back safely, get some rest.” You smile politely at them, and they both walk off towards their chambers. The interaction was quick but you’re just grateful to see they’re okay.

You consider for a bit if you should follow after Bi-han, an internal argument occurring. Your relationship with him at best is strained, so you aren’t sure it should be you going to talk to him and offering comfort. Well, you suppose if you cannot offer comfort, you can at least give him something to focus his anger at.

Letting out a large sigh, you turn around and follow after where Bi-Han went, as you walk through the temple you realise, he went in the direction of the medical room. There are no doctors here or anything, but they have basic medical kits kept in that room.

The pace of your steps increase to get to the room quicker, if he got injured why wouldn’t he say anything, god he is such a stubborn, loud mouthed, egotistical –

Your internal ranting is cut short as you get to the room and see him sitting in one of the chairs shirtless. Using his mouth to hold a bit of suture, trying to thread the needle with one hand, while simultaneously trying to keep pressure on the wound in his side with his other.

“What do you want?” Venom in his voice that would hit harder if he wasn’t mumbling around a piece of string.

You sigh at him, “Let me help.” Tentatively, you move closer to him.

He grunts at you, “don’t need your help.”

“You’re being stupid, just lemme help stitch you up,” placing your hands in front of him, you’re waiting for him to give you the needle and suture.

He stares at you for a moment, sizing you up before yielding and placing them in your hands. You look around for an extra chair, pulling it in front of him. As you sit down you shuffle the chair close to him, your legs between his spread ones.

It occurs to you now; just how large he is compared to you. Pushing the thought to the side, you put the needle and suture on the small table beside you, and instead begin looking through the first aid kit for something to clean the site with. You find a bit of gauze and rubbing alcohol, it’ll do, you think.

You nod your head in the direction of his wound, signalling him to remove his hand. He does so and you warn him before you begin cleaning it, “this is gonna hurt, quite a bit.”

“Mhmm,” he has a scowl on his face.

“Was just trying to give you a warning.”

“I’ve been stabbed before, I know what to expect,” he’s being short with you.

You’re too tired for his attitude, and as much as he annoys you, you don’t like seeing him physically hurt.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling of the gauze on his skin, but other than that, silence falls over the room as you begin cleaning the area, you’re trying to be as gentle as possible while also attempting to adequately clean it. The whole thing is a lot more intimate than what you’re used to.

Grabbing fresh gauze you place it over the stab wound, “hold this for a second.”

His large hand places itself over top of yours and it makes you feel warm, you pull your hand out gently and move back to the needle and bit of suture.

Your hands shake as you try to thread the string, Bi-Han’s eyes are watching you closely, “this is possibly the most abysmal attempt at threading a needle I have ever witnessed.”

You roll your eyes at him, “shut up, I’m trying to help you here, don’t bite the hand that feeds you and all…” You trail off, placing your hands down for a second before taking a deep breath.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

You shoot back quickly, “You were not doing any better than me,” attempting to thread it again is successful.

You shoot him a spiteful smirk in response to your success and he rolls his eyes in response. With how often he rolls them, you’re surprised his eyes aren’t at the back of his head.

Leaning forward again you ask him to remove his hand, and you begin carefully suturing at the wound. It isn’t serious, and it doesn’t take too many stitches to close up.

It’s all over fairly fast, and it’s helpful that Bi-Han has what seems to be an amazing pain tolerance as he sits stoically for you throughout the whole thing.

Grabbing another piece of gauze and some medical tape, you cover the stitches and look up at him. Both of your faces close to each other as he looks down to you at the same time, you take in a sharp breath, before leaning back and looking away from his eyes.

“All done, it wasn’t that bad but next time, you should just ask someone for help.” You tell him.

“Would’ve been fine.”

You turn back to look at him, gaze scrutinising, “in these situations, usually the person who received help would thank the provider of help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he shrugs you off.

“Arghhhh, how am I meant to put up with you for, god knows how long, when you can’t even manage a single thank you after getting my help.” You stand up to walk away from him, exasperated with his audacity.

His hand reaches out and grabs your forearm, “thank you, I guess, I mean I would have done better.”

From this position you’re looking down on him, “you’re unbelievable.”

“What? I said thank you!” He looks annoyed but he doesn’t get to be annoyed because you’re annoyed.

“What do you mean ‘what’? you immediately undid the ‘thank you’ by telling me I did a bad job!”

“I did not say you did a bad job.” He states simply.

“I am going insane; you are driving me insane.” You’re shaking your head at him.

The hand on your forearm drags you down, face closer to his now, “you’re the one driving me insane.”

“How??? I have repeatedly tried to reach an olive branch out to you, and I just stitched you up! I can’t believe I worried about your well-being.”

“You worried about me?” He asks.

“I did,” you confirm.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just did. It’s not like I hate you, I don’t want you to die. I care if you live.”

You’re so annoyed at him, is it such a foreign concept to him? A person wanting him to be okay, uninjured.

His eyes are intense as he looks at you, faces so close now you can feel his breath against yours. You aren’t sure why you do it, it doesn’t even feel like it’s you who does it, but you move forward that extra inch and place you mouth on his. Kissing him.

He doesn’t react straight away, and you pull away, “I– I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” You feel embarrassed.

You go to move away but you don’t get far, both of his hands come up and grab your face, pulling you into a passionate kiss. His lips take your breath away, his thumb pushes into the hinge of your jaw, pulling your mouth open. His tongue is invading your senses, making you dizzy.

He doesn’t pull back from you, instead he starts grabbing at you, pulling you into his lap. You’re sat on top of him now, thighs spread over his. The shiver that rolls over your body can’t be helped when your heat makes contact with his crotch.

As he continues kissing your breath away, with you sitting in his lap, you feel him moan into your mouth. You realise, you’ve absentmindedly started grinding down onto him. He pulls back from you, head dropping to your chest.

His hands grab at your hips, and he slowly starts to drag your clothed cunt against his covered length. A small gasp of pleasure leaves you as he presses you down harsher against himself.

“Mmm, you’re a needy fuckin mess,” he hums into your neck.

His words effect you in a way you aren’t proud of, “shuddup.” Is all you manage at him, nowhere near malicious enough for him to actually shut up.

“You gonna cum in your panties hmmm?” he asks you, teasing you cruelly. “Gonna cum in the lap of the man who drives you insane?”

You shake your head at him, telling him no. He chuckles at your disagreement, full of himself.

Both of your hands reach out and grab onto his shoulders for leverage, his hands on your hips still encouraging you to grind down onto his cock. Small suppressed moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

He bites your neck, and it has a gush of slick leaving your cunt, a gasp pulling from you.

“Bet you’re so fucken wet right now, leaving a wet patch on my pants. Messy little thing.” His dirty talk is making your face hot.

“Bi-Han, I – ngh – need you–”

He cuts you off, “–I know you do,” you groan at him, he knows that isn’t what you were going to say. You were going to tell him to shut up again.

One of his hands leaves your hips and reaches behind you, threading into your hair, pulling you back by it. He takes the opportunity to bite and suck marks into your neck, it has you squirming down onto him.

“mmm I can feel your cunt fluttering on me through your panties,” he noses at your neck, taking in the smell of your skin.

His words are so filthy, you’re going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. You hate how much he’s getting you off.

The hand on your head trails back down your body, reaching its previous placement on your hip. Then both his hands reach around to your ass, he pulls your cheeks apart and it has your pussy spreading on him more.

The feeling overwhelming, you keep rutting down into him, so close to finishing. You look down to his lap, you’ve left a large wet patch on his pants. His hard cock straining harshly against the material of his pants.

Your hole briefly catches on the head of his cock, so close to penetration and so far. He keels over at the feeling, a moan coming from him in response. The moan he let out spurring you on.

“Bet you’re so fucken close, aren’t yah? Go on, cum in your panties.” He lifts his hips slightly to grind up into you.

His words and actions have you cumming, moans coming from your mouth, you bite your lip to keep them quiet. You’re shaking in his lap from your orgasm, it’s the best one you’ve ever had, and he didn’t even fuck you. After shocks thrumming through you as you come down, your panties feel so wet.

He pulls your face back and plants a wet kiss on your mouth, “such a good girl, there’s your fucken thank you.”

❆˖°

A/N: Is it hot in here or is it just me? I would’ve liked to have made the smut longer, but I am running on little to no sleep lol. Either way I hope you enjoy the story and thank you again to anon for your request <33

#subzero smut #bi han smut #subzero x reader #bi han x reader #bi han x you #subzero x you #bi han x reader smut #mk1 smut #subzero x reader smut

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months ago

Text

Hold My Hand

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Jack Kline & teen!reader

Requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Synopsis: you and Jack are always there for each other

Warnings: fighting, people want to kill Jack, angst with a happy ending, probably continuity errors because season 12-14 is kind of a blur to me

“We have to find her.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do, she can’t have gotten far.”

“Why don’t we just let her go?”

All eyes turned to you when you interrupted Team Free Will in the middle of an argument.

“That’s not an option,” Dean scoffed. “She’s carrying Lucifer 2.0, we’ve got to stop her before he’s born.”

“Just because Lucifer’s his dad, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be evil,” you argued. “He didn’t do anything, and if Kelly wants to have this baby, why should we stop her?”

“It will kill her,” Cas said.

“And yet she said she wants to have him anyway,” you countered.

“Whoa whoa, can we back up to when I said, Lucifer’s son?” Dean said. “It’s evil, we kill it, no argument.”

“It’s not like he’s done anything!” You said. “He’s innocent! He didn’t ask to have Lucifer for a dad, and he can’t be evil before he’s even born.”

“Look, does any of this matter?” Sam cut in before the argument could get more heated. “We can’t find Kelly, so there’s nothing we can do yet anyway.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But when we find her, there’s no argument. We can’t take a chance with that thing.”

“He’s not a thing, Dean.” You glared at your brother, but nobody said anything more to continue the argument.

…

The argument was inconsequential—you didn’t find Kelly in time. Well, you and your brothers didn’t.

But Cas did, and he paid the price.

You didn’t reach Jack fast enough to stop Dean from shooting him, and once he knocked the three of you out and disappeared you weren’t able to stop Dean from going on a hunt to end him. Once Cas was gone, Dean was more convinced than ever that killing Jack was right, and you just didn’t seem able to get Dean to listen to you anymore.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam observed when the two of you got a moment away from Dean.

“Why won’t he listen?” You sighed. “I-I know he’s hurt because of Cas, but we all are. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean it’s Jack’s fault, and it’s not fair to hunt him down because of it.”

“Jack?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think. I saw it painted on the wall in Kelly’s house, I think that’s what she wanted to name him. He’s not just Lucifer’s son, Sam, no matter what Dean thinks. He has a name, and he doesn’t have to be evil just because Lucifer’s his dad, or-or because Kelly died in childbirth, or because Cas died to protect him. Those are all decisions that other people made, not Jack.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t think Dean does.”

“I’ve tried to tell him,” you said. “I’ve tried a hundred times. He doesn’t want to listen.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But he’s in pain. We’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“If we cut him too much slack, then we’re just signing Jack’s death warrant.” You sighed. “I can’t do that, Sam. If I do, then Kelly and Cas died for nothing.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when he saw Dean returning to the Impala.

…

Finding Jack wasn’t as hard as Dean was afraid it would be. On the way to a lead, Sam and Dean restarted the argument about Jack.

“I’m sorry, are you defending the son of Satan?” Dean scoffed after Sam tried to calm Dean down.

“I’m not defending anything, it’s just—“

“I am,” you butted in. “The only reason Jack attacked us is because you shot him!”

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “I shot the monster, that’s what we do!”

“Jack’s not a monster!” You blurted.

“Jack?” Dean scoffed. “It’s Lucifer’s son, not some new best friend. And he killed Kelly, and…” Dean’s voice stuttered. “And Cas…”

“Jack didn’t kill them!” You insisted. “They wanted to protect him, that doesn’t make it his fault!”

Dean opened his mouth to yell at you, his fingers whitening on the steering wheel, when Sam interrupted.

“Guys, we’re here.”

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled into the parking lot.

“The only plan I have right now is killing that thing before he kills anyone else.”

“Is Cas…” Sam swallowed. “Is Cas really gone?”

“You know he is.”

…

Once the three of you finally tracked Jack to a police station, Sam managed to taser him before the three of you got arrested by the very suspicious cop.

You and Sam were left with Jack in a holding cell while Dean talked to the woman—no doubt, he was trying to convince her to help him kill Jack. At least, that’s what you were afraid of. Even Sam, who you considered much more on your side, was pressing himself against the farthest wall from Jack when he woke up.

Once Jack relaxed and his yellow eyes faded, you approached him even as Sam held back.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered warily, but you ignored him, opting to sit next to Jack on a hard metal bench. Jack watched you silently for a moment before offering a small smile and turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to ask him some questions.

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Jack asked him. You saw the guilt in his eyes, and it twisted your gut—Jack had never meant to hurt anyone, and he must’ve been so scared when Dean shot him.

“Um…yeah,” Sam agreed.

Sam continued to question him, and you continued to remain by Jack’s side. You were sure it was making Sam nervous—his eyes kept glancing towards you, and his hands were twitching, as though he was prepared to act at any moment. But you could also tell that it was calming Jack. The changes were subtle, but you could almost feel rather than see him…not leaning in your direction, but more like relaxing towards you, like a flower growing towards sunlight.

Once Jack announced that he’d had to grow up quickly because the world was dangerous, you felt yourself understanding him more and more. Sam seemed to relax when Jack claimed that Castiel was his chosen father, not Lucifer. The more Jack spoke, the more the two of you realized that this was not some monster, some devil-spawn—he was just a kid.

And it all was going so well until Dean returned.

Jack was still stiff and silent after learning that Cas was dead, so he didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence. You wanted to go and make sure that Dean didn’t still plan to kill Jack, but Sam beat you to Dean, and you didn’t want to leave Jack alone. Still, you listened carefully as Sam tried to convince Dean that Jack was just a kid.

The brothers were interrupted by a cry for help—Dean went to investigate, leaving the three of you stranded in the cell. He wasn’t gone thirty seconds when to angels broke down the door. Once they were inside, Jack doubled over in pain, stumbling against the wall.

“Jack!” You cried out, reaching over and steadying him. One of the angels ripped the door off its hinges, and Sam and the angel fought while you stayed by Jack’s side, keeping yourself between him and the other angel.

Sam was on the floor in a minute, overwhelmed by the angel. You were conflicted for a moment—did you help Sam, or Jack?—but the angel ignored Sam once he was on the floor, going straight to Jack. It only took one swift blow to get you out of the way, your head slamming painfully against the rough stone wall of the jail cell.

“Jack…” you whimpered, watching as the angels grabbed him and marched him towards the exit.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, and you turned to see him press his bloody palm against the angel-repelling symbol he’d finger-drawn in blood. The angels were gone in a bright flash of light, and Jack remained, kneeling in pain by the door.

“Jack.” You jumped to your feet, staggering a little as the blood rushed to your head, but you still managed to reach Jack and grab hold of his shoulder. “Jack, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed open to reveal a third and final angel wielding an angel blade. Sam grabbed one the other angel had dropped and jumped in front of Jack. You stayed right by Jack’s side as he stood to his feet.

“Don’t.” Sam said.

“Or what, other one?” The Angel scoffed.

“Guess.” Dean grunted, entering right behind her.

You felt your hand subconsciously finding Jack’s as you took a half-step forward, trying to block his body with your own. You saw Jack glance at you out of the corner of your eye—he looked confused—but his hand squeezed yours even tighter.

“If I can’t have him, no one can,” the angel promised, twisting her blade and driving into Jack’s chest.

“No!” You cried as Sam killed her with one swift jab. The three of you watched with bated breath as Jack grabbed hold of the angel blade and slowly removed it.

“I…I’m fine,” he breathed.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody hole in the middle of Jack’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, his hand once again finding yours.

…

You sat with Jack while Sam and Dean discussed the options. It didn’t take long to decide—Jack would be going with you. Of course, you were almost certain that it was because Dean was looking for a way to kill him, but you would take what you could get for now.

You finally separated from Jack when the four of you returned to the cabin. Dean went in to prepare Cas’s body, and Jack wanted to see his mother one last time. You couldn’t bring yourself to go in—to see what you’d lost. So you waited outside until both bodies were brought out to burn.

You saw Sam speaking to Jack while Dean poured gasoline on the pyre, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Sam and Dean spoke, but it was like you were in a play, one where two characters went off to talk but no one else on stage was supposed to hear what they were saying. Their words weren’t quiet, and they were mere inches from you, but you couldn’t make it out anyway. Then Dean tossed his lighter into the fire, and you watched as flames engulfed the two covered bodies. You wanted to look away—to close your eyes, as if that would somehow make anything better—but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You felt like an unwilling witness to the burning blaze that took your friends away—away to somewhere better, you hoped. The smoke rose up, and you watched it as if hoping to see their souls rising with it—off to a better world, a world without so much pain.

Jack’s hand on your arm snapped you out of your daze. He looked for a moment as if he didn’t know what he was doing. But then his hand found yours, and you felt it—a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm, and his touch was comforting. Your gaze met his for the briefest of moments, before both of you looked back at the fire.

But not before your hand squeezed his back.

…

“I don’t like that,” Dean grumbled to Sam. Sam looked at him, confused, and Dean gestured to the back seat. Jack was asleep against the window, and somewhere along the line you’d gone from sleeping on your own window to sleeping on Jack’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t be letting her get that close to it. As soon as we figure out how to kill a nephilim, he’s gone.”

“Dean, we don’t know that he’s evil,” Sam reasoned.

“Yes we do, Sam. And every time we try to cheat, try to pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad, people end up dead. So now we’re gonna do what we should always do—end the problem.”

Both boys halted their conversation when they saw you stir—getting you involved would only make the argument worse; they knew where you stood on the issue.

“Dean, the problem might be the only way to save mom,” Sam argued.

“Mom is gone.”

…

You awoke to a blinding motel sign blinking above the Impala.

“We should be on the road,” Dean was arguing to Sam.

“Dean, you were hallucinating sheep. We need a few hours,” Sam countered.

“This is nice!” Jack said enthusiastically when he saw the dingy, near-rotting motel room. You found yourself smiling at his eagerness while Sam and Dean dropped their bags on the ground.

“Wow,” Jack breathed when he turned on the tv and a Scooby-Doo episode started playing. “This is…wonderful.”

You grinned, settling down next to him on one of the beds to watch, when Dean stepped over.

“Hey, no,” he said, moving to turn it off. He hesitated when he saw the show, almost smiling at what it was. You were just starting to hope that Dean was coming around when the smile dropped and he clicked the tv off. “You’re on the couch sport, move,” he said to Jack. “Y/N, I guess you’re sharing my bed tonight.” Dean snatched a bible off the counter and tossed it to Jack. “Here, why don’t you read a book.”

“I’m gonna stay up for a little bit,” you said, going to sit by Jack on the couch. Dean pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Sam left and returned quickly with burgers. The four of you chowed down—you watched as Jack started to mimic all of Dean’s movements, and you had to bite back a smile when Dean started to get annoyed with it.

After dinner, you dozed off. Sometime in the night, Donatello arrived, but you didn’t wake until you started to hear raised voices. You sat up on the couch and noticed Jack next to you. He was watching Sam, Dean, and Donatello argue about him—mostly Sam and Dean.

“He doesn’t have to be evil!” Sam was saying. “We don’t know that he isn’t more like Cas and Kelly than Lucifer!”

“I’m right here you know!” Jack argued, but no one listened.

“Yeah but he’s not Kelly, not Cas, he’s the freakin devil!”

You flinched in surprise when Jack disappeared from next to you. Dean turned to look at him, growling in annoyance when he saw Jack was gone.

“Nice going, Dean,” you huffed, jumping to your feet and running out to find Jack. You slammed the door in Dean’s face before he could respond.

…

“Hey Jack.” You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jack, sitting on a crate in an alleyway outside of the motel. You had a feeling he could’ve just as easily transported himself to Hawaii, so you were more than relieved that he hadn’t gone far.

Jack tucked his head into his arms as if trying to escape you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Everyone was so angry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed.

“I guess you just wanted to be away from it all.” You hadn’t noticed Sam following you until he spoke.

“And suddenly, I was,” Jack sighed. You felt your gut twist at the guilt in his voice—he didn’t want his power, you could feel it. It must be so overwhelming for him, to just think or feel something and have it happen.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll tell you what, you’ve got some special skills, Jack. We just need to make sure you get a grip on them, so you don’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that why Dean hates me?” Jack asked, and you had to remind yourself to stay calm—you loved Dean, but right now you’d never wanted to hit him more.

Jack and Sam continued to talk about Dean, and about Jack’s own powers, but again you found your mind wandering. You didn’t know what to do, but for some reason you felt that more than anything, you wanted to protect this kid. You’d never met anyone like him—he was so kind, so inquisitive, so bright and happy—and you felt like he was someone you needed in the world.

“I just don’t know if I’m worth all this.” Jack’s tearful confession brought you back to the present.

“You’re mom thought you were,” Sam told him. “So did Cas. So do I.”

“Me too,” you jumped in. “Jack, I believe you can control your powers. And I believe that you deserve a chance here. I believe that you’re worth that.”

You weren’t sure if he moved or if you did, but somehow Jack’s hand was grasped in yours once again. It just felt right—like he was a wind chime, beautiful when moved in the right direction, and you were the string holding him up—you made each other better; you made each other work.

…

Dean’s relationship with Jack didn’t change much after you guys brought him back to the bunker—even after Jack saved you all from Asmodeus. Dean tried his best to keep you away from Jack, but he was never successful. The only thing he could do was never leave you alone in the bunker with him—which he made sure to do.

That plan backfired one day when Dean took you with him for a supply run—he didn’t need you, but you’d been “spending too much time with the devil’s kid” recently, so he took you out anyway.

Which would have been fine, if a certain Knight of Hell hadn’t been on the loose.

You’d wandered away from Dean in the parking lot—he was heading inside the store, but you turned off at the last moment, something catching your eye in the alleyway just outside. You didn’t know what it was, or why you turned; instinct, maybe. Nonetheless, you hadn’t taken two steps into the alley when you heard—

“Ah, yes. You’ll do nicely.”

—and you felt something smack the back of your head with a sickening crunch, bringing darkness to your vision and numbness to your bones, before you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all.

…

Pain. After a time, it was all you remembered. You woke to it every day, and passed out from it every night. At least, that’s how you imagined it—you couldn’t tell the difference between night and day in the dank, gloomy stone tomb that you’d spent the last few…days? Weeks?—in. You didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

The slow scrape of stone on stone forewarned more pain as you sagged against the rusted chains that bit into your bloody-soaked wrists.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name was jarring in a place where your identity never seemed to matter. You struggled to lift your head, seeing first the shadow of the stranger, then his shoes, all the way until you could make out the silhouette of a face.

“Y/N! Dean, I found her!”

The voice felt familiar, but in an indistinct way; like seeing someone who recognized you, but you couldn’t place their face.

Large hands on your face had all the breath leaving your lungs as you whimpered in fear.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. N/N it’s me, you’re ok.”

The name came to you as if from a nearly-forgotten dream.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sam’s voice was gentle as he reached over and started to work at the locks holding your chains in place. You didn’t notice Dean approaching, but when your chains gave way and your knees buckled, Dean was there to catch you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. We’re gonna take you home.”

…

You’d been in your room for three days. Sam and Dean had been going in and trying to coax you out, but you hadn’t moved, spoken, or even had anything to eat. Dean had kept Jack out of your room completely, despite both Jack and Sam’s protests.

“Look, I know you don’t trust him, but he and Y/N…they’ve connected, Dean. She likes him, and she trusts him. He could help her.”

“What, you think he can do something we can’t?” Dean scoffed.

“Maybe,” Sam answered honestly. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

“Yes it cou-“

“No, no it couldn’t,” Sam stopped Dean before he could even finish. “Jack won’t hurt her, Dean. He just won’t. I know you hate it, but they care about each other, and you can’t stop that.”

Dean gritted his teeth, mulling over Sam’s words.

“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then he stays away.”

Sam sighed.

“Deal.”

…

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Jack into your room.

“Just give them a little space,” Sam whispered. Dean scowled, but stayed in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but you flinched anyway. “It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Jack.”

Your head lifted, only about an inch, and your eyes flicked up to Jack before you looked back down.

“I really missed you around here,” Jack continued, climbing up to sit next to you on your bed. Dean stiffened, but Sam held his arm to keep him from interrupting.

You stayed silent, but Jack was patient.

“Nothing was the same around here. I’m glad you’re back, I just…I wish you felt safe now, because you are. You’re safe here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Jack’s hand inched towards yours, but Dean interrupted.

“Ok, you tried. Now come on.”

“Dean—“ Sam began, but Jack didn’t argue. He just stood slowly to his feet and started towards your door.

“Jack.”

Your voice stopped Jack in his tracks. He turned to look at you, and his worried brow relaxed when he saw your hand reaching out for his. He took two steps and was in front of you again, reaching forwards and grasping your hand in his.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack smiled. You returned his smile with a weak one of your own.

“Hi Jack.”

And Jack knew that it would all be ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

#the winchesters #dean winchester #dean and sam #supernatural dean #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #jack kline x reader #jack kline

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tortillamastersblog · 5 months ago

Text

♕ No Matter What - Part 13 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

I sip my coffee at the kitchen island, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with my free hand.

It’s barely even six in the morning and Lena is still asleep in the bedroom.

After dinner last night, she wordlessly pulled me to bed with her and snuggled up to me.

It made my heart flip and I can no longer deny that I have utterly and irrevocably fallen in love with her, but we have yet to talk about where this thing between us is going.

I couldn’t sleep any longer because my back hurt, so I got up and took some painkillers before making some coffee.

The rain has finally stopped, but the sky is still overcast, reflecting how I’m feeling inside. I stare into my mug and watch the dark liquid swirl around.

Lex can’t get to Lena, that is one thing I’m sure of, I just don’t know how to stop it from happening yet.

Then there’s also this whole thing with Harper. I know I said we’d get coffee this upcoming week, but I honestly don’t see that happening with everything that’s going on.

I take my phone off the kitchen island and send her a quick message, asking to postpone our get together.

She unsurprisingly replies almost instantly (we’re both used to getting up this early), telling me not to worry and that she’ll be waiting for my message to reschedule.

I sigh and put the phone back down, tensing when a pair of arms wraps around my middle from behind.

“You okay?” Lena mumbles against my uninjured shoulder and I sink back into her. “Why are you up this early?”

I place my hand over hers on my stomach and close my eyes, enjoining the warmth radiating from her. “I’m okay. Just couldn’t sleep anymore,” I say.

Lena sighs and lets me go, sitting on the stool next to mine. She eyes my coffee and I smile, pushing it toward her.

It’s not quite to her taste because I always add some sugar to it, but she doesn’t complain when she takes a sip.

I watch her fondly, admiring the way her hair falls over her shoulders and how her eyes sparkle in the low light when they meet mine.

“Look,” she says, seemingly reading my mind. “I know you want to talk about us and how we move forward. I really like you, Y/N. I do. . .But with my maniac of a brother on the loose and L Corp’s stocks taking a hit because of it, I’m not in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”

I nod, but feel my heart drop. I understand what she’s saying but I can’t help but feel like this isn’t the only reason she doesn’t want to start anything serious with me.

What if she’s having second thoughts? What if she thinks I’m not good enough? What if she regrets the kiss? No, that can’t be. If that were the case, why would she still be this touchy?

My insecurities and doubt are getting the best of me, so I slip off the stool and get started on making breakfast.

“Y/N,” Lena says with a sigh, obviously sensing the shift in my mood.

I hum in acknowledgment without turning around, keeping my eyes on the stove in front of me where I just cracked two eggs into a pan.

I really like— no, I love Lena and I know she feels similarly about me, but what if she’s never ready for a relationship. She’s busy and booked almost 24/7 and there will always be something she has to deal with.

I honestly don’t know where all of these thoughts and feelings are coming from, but I can’t stop them from overwhelming me.

I’ve always been one to overthink, but not to this extent.

Lena likes me and all she said was that she can’t currently be in a relationship, so why am I doubting it?

A hand on my lower back stops my mind from spiraling and when I turn around, I force a small smile.

Lena sees right through it and tilts her head to the side, her eyes softening. “Don’t do that, Y/N. I know what’s going on inside your head. I like you, a lot, and I’m not saying I can’t imagine a future with you, because I can. Right now it’s just not the right time though, but I’d like to try with you once this whole thing with Lex has been sorted. So, please. . . Wait for me? I know it might be too much to ask but—“

I swallow my doubts and nod my head, cupping Lena’s jaw. “Okay.”

Her eyes fill with hope and she raises her hands to hold onto my wrists, keeping my hands in place. “Are you sure? Because I’d understand if—“

I bend down and press my lips against hers, effectively cutting her off.

Seems like I’m not the only one who’s overthinking.

Lena sighs and moves her hands to my hips, trying to deepen the kiss, but I pull back before she gets the chance.

The kiss was meant to shut her up and stop her rambling. I didn’t intend for it to escalate.

A dissatisfied grumble leaves Lena’s lips and I can’t help but smile and brush a loose dark curl behind her ear.

“I’m sure, but we should stop. You’re right. We should wait until this thing with your brother blows over,” I explain and Lena sighs, knowing I’m right.

She leans into my touch and I bend down again to kiss her forehead before turning back to the stove.

She doesn’t leave my side until the eggs and toast are ready to plate and we go to eat at the kitchen island.

I’m feeling better now, trusting that she means it when she says she wants to give us a chance, but I still feel like something is going to get in the way of it.

Whether it’s her changing her mind, or something happening that neither of us could have for seen, I don’t know.

I just have this gut feeling that won’t go away. The day Noah died, I also had a bad feeling when we came to a halt in the small village, but I didn’t voice my concerns because there was nothing to back them up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and everyone would have looked at me as though I’d gone crazy if I had called off the supply run, not to mention the villagers who relied on us.

“Ms. Luthor, did you helped your brother escape from prison?”

“Where is your brother now? Are you providing refuge for him?”

“Ms. Luthor, are the rumors true that you lied in court to get your brother sentenced for crimes you committed?”

I shove the last reporter out of the way and send him a dirty glare, ignoring his shout of protest when he goes down.

Lena is tucked beneath my arm hiding behind a pair of big sunglasses and if it weren’t for her presence, I would have done much more than just shove that sorry excuse for a man.

After what feels like hours we finally manage to get to the car and Alfred opens the back door for us, working with some other security guards to keep the reporters at bay.

Lena gets in first and I pull the door shut behind us as soon as I’m in as well.

“Are you okay?” I ask immediately, noticing how she has yet to take off her sunglasses. She looks down and buries her shaky hands in her lap.

Alfred gets in the car and starts driving, leaving behind the shouting reporters and nosy passerby.

I put up the privacy screen and turn in my seat as I rech for Lena’s sunglasses. I gently pull them off her face and sigh when I see her watery eyes.

“Hey. . .” I whisper, taking one of her hands to lace our fingers together. “You know that what they’re saying isn’t true.”

She just blinks to get rid of her tears and bites her lower lip.

I only initiate this kind of contact when we’re alone because we’ve decided it’s best for now if I keep on being her bodyguard.

We haven’t kissed since that morning in my kitchen a week ago, which is for the best if I’m going to focus on my job, but I miss the taste and feel of her lips on mine.

We also haven’t slept in the same bed since that night because Lena decided to move back into her own apartment after a rather heated argument.

She said it was safer now that her whereabouts at my apartment had come out, and I only reluctantly agreed when she suggested I temporarily move into her guest room.

That way, I’m around if something happens and we have the added security measures of all the cameras and motion sensors that she has installed .

So that’s where we’re headed now after a long day at the office.

I squeeze Lena’s hand and bend down to catch her eyes. “It’s not true. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You are not your brother and you are not responsible for his actions.“

“Y/N—“

“No, it’s not true.” I cut her off, knowing that she wants to pull the we’re-related-so-his-actions-are-my-actions card.

Lena huffs and uses her free hand to wipe away her tears.

“You’re nothing like him. You’re kind and compassionate and good, Lena. Please don’t ever compare yourself to that monster.”

She stays silent, but I know I got through to her because she lets out a shaky breath and rests her head on my shoulder.

We stay like that until we get to her apartment and I help her out of the car before bidding Alfred a good night and thanking him for helping with the reporters.

The elevator ride up to the apartment is silent and as soon as we step inside, I get stared on making some dinner.

Lena heads into her bedroom, mumbling something about a shower, but I know that she just needs some space.

It’s been like this for a week now, Lena’s busy at work, she gets yelled at by reporters in the evening when we leave to go home and I cook dinner while she showers and calms down.

The fact that the police still haven’t figured out how the security system was hacked into isn’t helping either, so I try my best to be as much of a calming presence as I can be.

I chop some tomatoes for an easy pasta dish and get some water boiling, pouring a decent amount of salt into it before adding the dry pasta.

I sauté the tomatoes in a pan, addinga little pasta water and some Parmesan rind before turning off the heat and letting the sauce simmer.

Lena emerges from her bedroom right as I sprinkle some chopped herbs into the sauce and a small smile pulls at her lips when she smells the food.

I noticed her eyes are red and puffy, but don’t comment on it and strain the pasta over the sink.

“You know, I never thought you could cook like this,” she says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

I smile and decide to play along to get her mind off Lex and what the reporters said earlier. “Now, why would you think I can’t cook?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I move to dump the pasta into the pan.

I swirl it around in the sauce before dividing it and putting it on two plates I set out earlier. I grab the Parmesan from the fridge and grate some, sprinkling it on both dishes.

“I don’t know,” Lena admits with a chuckle. “I just always thought your main source of nutrition came from protein shakes or something.”

I laugh out loud at that and grab the plates, going to the couch and sitting down. “What?”

Lena blushes and tries to hide it by turning around to grab some wineglasses from the cupboard above the stove. “I don’t know, shut up. I’m not the one built like a linebacker.”

I laugh again and don’t push her any further, accepting the glass of wine she holds out as soon as she joins me on the couch.

We eat in silence and while Lena seems to be feeling fine again, I still take notice of the dark circles under her eyes.

She hasn’t been sleeping well, I’ve heard her waking from nightmares more often than not over the past couple of nights, and even though I always go to comfort her when it happens, she refuses to ask me to stay the way she’s done before.

It makes my heart hurt, but I’ve come to realize that it’s her way of protecting herself. She’s distancing herself from me because we can’t be together just yet.

“You liked it?” I ask softly when Lena sets her empty plate down on the coffee table a few minutes later.

She nods and smiles genuinely, taking a sip of her wine before leaning back against my shoulder. “I like everything you make.”

It’s my turn to blush now and I try to hide it by taking a sip of my own wine.

The rest of the night is filled with small talk and soft laughs until Lena falls asleep with a soft smile on her lips.

I melt at how cute she looks and carefully pick her up and take her to bed. She snuggles into the covers and when I’m about to leave I notice that she’s clutching something to her chest that she didn’t have a few seconds ago.

It’s the sweatshirts I thought I’d lost in my temporary move. She must have had it stuffed underneath her pillow to hide it from me and the realization that she cuddles it while sleeping makes my stomach tingle.

I leave her bedroom with a dopey grin and go back to the living room. I clean everything and make sure all the lights are turned off before retreating to my own room.

“Y/N, come on! Why are you holding out on me?” Sam whines and I reach forward, pinching her cheek.

“Oh my God, why are you so loud?! Do you want Lena to hear you?” I hiss, looking around in fear.

Sam slaps my hand away and punches my shoulder. “She’s getting coffee. She won’t be back for another few minutes,” she argues and I roll my eyes, knowing she’s right.

We’re in Lena’s office and Sam stopped by to drop off some files, but when she saw me, she decided to stay for a little chat.

Lena used it as an excuse to finally take a break and go to get some coffee, declining my offer to get one for her.

“So?” Sam prompts again and I glance at the door to make sure it’s closed before giving in.

“Fine, we kissed when she stayed at my place, but we’re not going to start anything until this whole thing with Lex has been sorted,” I reveal.

Sam squeals with excitement and her eyes light up. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other,” she says, giggling like a little kid.

I feel my neck heat up and turn to look at the city through the floor to ceiling windows. “Shut up. We’re not even together,” I argue weekly but Sam’s not having it.

“Yet. . .” she says teasingly, before adding, “So, how was the kiss? Was there any under the shirt action?”

I whirl around and stare at her incredulously. “Sam! Jesus, no! It was just a kiss.”

Complete unfazed, Sam just shrugs and continues to ask, “Well, was it good?”

I open my mouth, ready to snap again, but then I remember the actual kiss and can’t help but smile dumbly. “I— Yeah. It was amazing.”

Sam’s eyes glint happily and she pulls me in for a hug. “Ahhh, I’m so happy for you. And I can’t wait until it’s official. You guys will make such a power couple.”

I laugh at that and tickle her playfully so she releases me from her hold. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“What did I miss?”

I turn to find Lena entering her office with a confused smile. She’s holding her coffee in one hand and an envelope in the other.

Her dark hair is pinned up in a neat bun and like all morning, I once again have to force myself to keep my eyes on her face and not on the lower half of her body because the snug pencil skirt she’s wearing highlights all her curves perfectly.

“Oh—Uh, nothing,” I stutter and if our behavior wasn’t suspicious before it definitely is now.

“Okayyy,” Lena drawls and glances between Sam and I before shrugging and returning to her chair.

Sam winks at me when Lena isn’t looking and we chat a little longer before she excuses herself and leaves.

I return to my spot on the couch, pulling out my phone to do some scheduling for the gym.

I don’t even manage to log into my online account though before Lena gasps, earning my full attention.

“What is it?” I ask, seeing her with her eyes trained on the letter in her hand.

It must be what was in the envelope and when she doesn’t answer I get up and round her desk to look at what she’s reading.

Dearest sister—

I don’t get a chance to read much more before Lena slams the paper down on her desk. She jumps to her feet and starts breathing rapidly.

“Hey hey hey,” I say quickly, putting my hands on her shoulders. “What is it? I know it’s from Lex, but what does he want?”

Lena’s wild eyes find mine and when I see the horror reflected in them, I feel my stomach drop. “He wants me to retract the testimony I gave at his trial.”

________________________________________________

Again, a little bit of a filler, but it’s necessary for the next part.

I promise it’s going to be worth the wait.

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha

#x reader #dc universe #dcu #lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #supergirl cw #fluff

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crimsonwolf715 · 22 days ago

Text

It's Not Your Fault

Jason’s been sitting in the therapist’s office for a while now, mostly silent as she asks him questions he gives one or two word answers to.

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened?” the therapist asks, clearly trying to get Jason to interact with her.

“Why should I?” Jason asks, keeping his eyes on his hands.

“Because maybe if you talk about it, it will help you process through your grief. If you’re unable to talk about it we can start with something else.”

Jason sighs. “It started out as a mission, barely a mission. The police needed assistance clearing out a building, so Red and I went. They were clearing out the building because due to some explosion that had happened next door a little earlier in the day, they found that it wasn’t likely the foundation of the building would hold. A bunch of debris fell on Red. He didn’t make it home.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Angry,” Jason answers.

“Anything else?” she presses.

Jason shakes his head. “Nope.”

“It’s natural to feel angry, but do you think there’s something stopping you from feeling anything else?”

“Yeah, the anger.” Jason looks at his watch. “But would you look at that? Time’s up, so I’m gonna head home.”

“We’re not done talking about this.”

“I am. I’ve got other things to do today.”

Jason gets up and grabs his bag, then heads out of the therapist’s office without another word.

Jason heads up to the top floor to search for anybody else. When he doesn’t find anybody, he heads down to find Tim. Jason hears a crack, then the floor starts fracturing.

“What floor are you on?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know, eighth floor?” Tim answers.

Dread fills Jason knowing that’s the floor right below him.

“Get to the stairs, now. The floor above you is going to cave in.”

“On my way.”

Jason races down the stairs and he hears the floor give out on his way down. He gets to the next floor and doesn’t see Tim at the stairs. He runs onto the floor and Tim’s buried under debris.

“Tim,” he breathes, then runs over.

Jason removes debris and Tim’s not moving. Once enough debris is moved, Jason pulls Tim over to the stable side of the building. Tim’s eyes are half-open and he coughs up blood onto himself and Jason.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.”

He gently picks Tim up and gets him out of the building. Once they’re out of the building, Jason gently puts Tim down to check for injuries. Tim’s wheezing.

“Medical’s on their way,” Jason says. “Just a little longer.”

“I can’t,” Tim says.

The words feel like a bucket of ice water being dumped on Jason’s head.

“That’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim says, his voice breaking.

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry. You’ve done such a good job. You can rest now.”

Tim gives Jason a small smile, then closes his eyes. Jason holds his brother close until he stops breathing.

Jason gets home and heads straight for his room.

“Jason!”

It’s Dick, and Jason can hear footsteps behind him meaning that Dick’s following him.

“Can you leave me alone?” Jason asks.

“That’s all I’ve been doing for a month. I’ve tried being accommodating but you keep pushing me away.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t want anyone’s attention.”

Jason slams his door shut behind him and he can almost hear Dick’s thoughts of knocking on Jason’s door. He doesn’t end up doing it and Jason can hear him head towards Damian’s room down the hall. Jason spends the rest of the day locked in his room reading the books Tim wrote in his little amount of free time before taking over WE or laying on his bed, occasionally throwing darts.

It’s well after ten o’clock when he takes stock of the time and decides he should probably get something to drink. Jason walks downstairs and finds nobody. He sighs and heads to the kitchen. Not that he exactly wanted to run into anybody, but he was hoping that maybe he’d wanna talk if he did. He contemplates breaking into the liquor cabinet, but decides to just drown his sorrows in orange juice instead. He walks into the living room and Bruce is standing there. He must have just come up from the Batcave.

Jason turns to leave when Bruce’s voice stops him. “Jason.”

“Dickie tattle on me?”

“No, what happened with you and Dick?”

Jason turns back towards Bruce. “Nothing.”

“Can we talk for a minute?” Bruce asks.

“Why not? I don’t have anything better to do,” Jason answers.

Jason stands behind the couch while Bruce stays standing over by the bookshelf.

“Everyone’s worried,” Bruce says.

“Of course everyone’s worried,” Jason replies, cutting Bruce off. “Nobody knows how to mind their own business in this family aside from Damian.”

“Everyone’s worried because this isn’t healthy,” Bruce continues, clearly ignoring Jason’s jab at him. “Nobody wants you to keep living like this.”

“How am I supposed to live with the fact that he’s dead?” Jason shouts. “All I feel is rage! The sadness was gone within a day and all I can feel is this rage that makes me want to go out and start killing every psychotic or psychopathic person in this city!”

“I understand that,” Bruce starts, but Jason cuts him off.

“How could you? You didn’t kill anyone!” Jason shouts, throwing the book that was on the table at Bruce.

Bruce moves just enough that he doesn’t get hit by the book, but he keeps his eyes on Jason. Jason’s breathing heavily, trying not to cry, his temper starting to evaporate. Bruce walks over and wraps his arms around Jason.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” Bruce says quietly. “It’s okay to be upset and angry, but it isn’t your fault that this happened. And I promise I’ll be here for you.”

Jason starts crying and buries his head in Bruce’s shoulder, sadness replacing the anger in an instant. Bruce rubs his back while he cries, the two of them staying in that position until Jason runs out of tears.

“Come on, let’s get you some water and then head to bed. It’s late and you obviously haven’t slept much lately. If you can’t sleep, we can talk.”

Jason nods. “I’m sorry I threw that book at you, Dad.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.”

They head upstairs and Jason asks, “Can you come sit with me for a bit?”

Bruce nods, so they go sit on Jason’s bed. Jason talks about Tim for a bit, trying not to cry again, then falls asleep leaning against Bruce.

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sen-ya · 7 months ago

Text

own terms

Summary: “We have to tell ‘em soon.”

Law huffed, hurrying across his room to find a sweater to take refuge in. “As I’ve told you,” he hissed, rummaging through a drawer, “I’ll be waiting as long as possible.”

Warnings: gender dysphoria, unplanned pregnancy

Word count: 1494

hi hello this is kinda part 6.5/7 of that comic series I’ve been posting. I have lotsa thoughts abt a lot of other points in this timeline but this is the only other one I’ve done something with oops.

“We have to tell ‘em soon.”

Law huffed, hurrying across his room to find a sweater to take refuge in. “As I’ve told you,” he hissed, rummaging through a drawer, “I’ll be waiting as long as possible.”

Luffy sighed, flopping to the foot of their bed with his head in his hands. “That’s what I’m saying,” he reasoned. “I think it’s been as long as possible.”

Law rolled his eyes at his husband. “Well, you think wrong,” he insisted, freeing an oversized black hoodie from his dresser. He pulled it on and observed himself in the mirror. “I’m hardly showing, and I have plenty of clothes like this.” He nodded, satisfied with the way the fabric swallowed him. “Honestly I may be able to conceal the whole thing without even using my powers,” this part was muttered to himself.

”Why though?!” Luffy whined. “My crew knows!”

“And I wish they didn’t!” If looks could kill, Law would have been guilty of mariticide and, in this moment, he didn’t even think he’d regret it. “Do we have to go through this again? I don’t want my crew to know I’m pregnant. It’s bad enough that Bepo made me tell Penguin and Shachi.”

“Why’s it bad that your brothers know we’re having a baby?” The irritation in the Pirate King’s voice was becoming increasingly familiar to Law, it’d been weeks of this conversation and he was, quite frankly, sick of it.

“I can’t believe you keep making me have this conversation,” Law sat at his desk and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “At this point it’s just insensitive.”

“Did you forget we’re pirates, Torao?”

This was a new talking point. Law quirked an eyebrow. “And that means you can be insensitive?”

”I mean, kinda? – But wait, that's not the point,” Luffy sighed heavily, speaking slowly like he was explaining something to a child. “Your crew should know the kind of coverage you need.”

Law shot to his feet. “You’ve proven my point,” he said sternly. “I don’t need additional cover. I’m just as capable as I’ve always been.”

”Torao—“

“I’m not having this conversation again.” He waved his hand dismissively and swiftly sent himself to the deck of his ship.

Left behind, Luffy let himself indulge in a long, frustrated groan.

—-

“You don’t understand,” Usopp implored. “If I were in his shoes I’d be sensitive about it too, okay?”

Luffy crossed his legs on top of the crate he was perched on in Usopp and Franky’s workshop. “But he’s always so…I dunno…practical,” he sighed. “And not telling your crew — y’know, the ones you fight with — that you’re fucking pregnant is totally not practical!”

“I dunno, dude,” Franky offered from his work bench. “You sure that’s why you’re so hung up on this?”

Luffy’s face scrunched up at the question. “What else would it be about?”

Franky lifted his welding mask and shared a knowing look with Usopp. They nodded back and forth and whatever nonverbal conversation they were having led to Franky sighing. “Okay, okay. Think about it. When’s the last time you ever saw anyone land a hit on Traffy?”

That was a tough question to answer. Truthfully, most pirates wouldn’t touch the pirate king or his consort. The new World Government still required levels and levels of approvals to engage with either of them, and even then it’s not like Koby would grant that approval unless a lot of things had suddenly changed.

”Doesn’t matter,” Luffy decided.

“Exactly,” Franky continued. “Now tell me, why else would you want the Hearts to know?”

Another tough one. What other reason could there be?

”They were the last ones to know about you two being together,” Usopp added helpfully. Franky cleared his throat, clearly he’d wanted Luffy to get to that fact on his own. Usopp shrunk into himself sheepishly in apology.

“Yeah, I still don’t get why Torao was so embarrassed,” Luffy muttered, paying no mind to his friends' silent exchange.

”And how’d it feel knowing he was embarrassed?” Franky encouraged.

”…I…” Luffy looked down at his hands in his lap. “…Didn’t like it.”

”Bingo!” Usopp cheered. “But it wasn’t that he was embarrassed of you, was he?”

Having finally caught up to the conversation, Luffy rolled his eyes. “No,” he whined. “He’s insecure.”

“Exactly!”

”But he’s not like that anymore!”

“And this isn’t the same situation as before,” Usopp insisted. “You’re asking a trans guy to walk into a room full of people and say ‘hey everyone, I have a uterus!’”

”But they’re his nakama! And everyone knows Ikakku’s trans and it’s not like anyone’s ever been stupid about it,” Luffy pouted.

“No one’s gonna be stupid about it,” the sniper agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t subconsciously change parts of how they interact with him, even if it’s only while he’s pregnant.” Usopp huffed a laugh. “Even if he weren’t a guy I’d think someone like Traffy’d want to keep it under wraps. When Kaya was pregnant tons of randos wanted to touch her belly all the time. It’s fuckin’ weird.”

“…Torao does hate it when people touch him,” Luffy muttered.

“And Ikakku talks about being trans, those are conversations she chose to have. I get to talk about it if I feel like it, like only when I'm comfortable enough to. I’ll bet Traffy hates not having a say in the matter,” Usopp sighed in empathy.

Luffy straightened up at that realization and a momentary silence fell over the trio.

Franky cleared his throat. “Just keep an eye on him if anyone’s dumb enough to fight us,” he said in summation. “He’s his own captain. Let him handle his crew.”

He hated to admit it, but Luffy knew he was right. He offered a grunt of acknowledgement and nothing else.

—

Luffy returned to the captain’s quarters of the Polar Two greeted by the sounds of his husband emptying his stomach in the en-suite bathroom. It wasn’t an uncommon state to find him in these days, but it certainly didn’t make it any better. He made his way to the ajar door and poked his head in. Law sat on the floor, forehead resting on his arm that was slung across the toilet. Upon noticing his company, he shot his husband a glare.

”Lunch taking revenge?” Luffy offered light-heartedly.

Law held his glare for a moment longer before allowing his face to soften slightly. “What else is new,” he grumbled, looking away. He decided his stomach was settling enough to relocate so he flushed the toilet and moved to get to his feet. Luffy was there in a flash, gently taking his arm.

”I don’t need any help,” Law sighed, pulling his arm back and reaching for his toothbrush. Luffy hovered, waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth before he spoke.

”I’m sorry,” he offered, hanging back in the doorframe of the bathroom while Law went to sit at his desk.

“Are you now?” Law cracked open a book, pulled a few pages of loose leaf from a precarious pile on the desk, and started to scribble on them.

“Yeah,” he replied, tentatively crossing the room to stand behind his husband. “Usopp and Franky reminded me that when you didn’t tell your crew we were together it wasn’t ‘cause you were embarrassed to be with me.”

Law placed his pen flat on his desk. “…That’s what this has been about?”

Luffy wrapped his arms around the other captain’s shoulders and nuzzled into his hair. “Maybe.”

They stayed like that in silence for a few long moments.

”I’m not embarrassed to be having your baby,” Law muttered after a while.

”I know.”

“I’m embarrassed to be having a baby period.”

“I know.”

“I’m certainly not embarrassed of her.”

“I know.”

”And I’m their captain,” Law continued. “I don’t want them thinking I’m less capable because…”

”They’d never think you’re not capable. They may be more protective though, and I get that you don’t want that.”

Law nodded. “…Yes,” he agreed, leaning back into his husband’s embrace.

“But if someone’s dumb enough to come after us, you can’t do anything stupid okay?”

That earned a hearty laugh. “Look who’s talking,�� Law chuckled, looking up into Luffy’s eyes.

“I mean it!” Luffy insisted. “You’re super strong. But…” He let his hand travel down to rest protectively on the front pocket of Law’s hoodie.

“I know,” Law whispered. “If I’m being honest, I have been thinking about your point. It’d be…practical for them to know.”

Luffy grinned at that. “And you do love practical.”

Law nodded pensively.

“Anyway, you tell ‘em when you’re ready. I’ll get off your ass about it.” In one swift motion Luffy hooked an arm under his husband’s legs and whisked him out of his chair bridal style.

“Excuse me,” Law protested. “I have work to do!”

“Yeah, I got stuff to do too!” the other captain laughed, turning on his heel to close the short distance to their bed.

#my art #lawlu #lulaw #law x luffy #luffy x law #cw dysphoria #cw unplanned pregnancy #u can spot the part that's the most overt bit of all of this that i was mad abt being visibly trans when i did all these lmao #and yes i have put my grubby lil trans hands all over these characters #usopp? trans. ikakku? trans. sanji? definitely some flavor of trans

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rubyvhs · 5 months ago

Text

berry vodka [jo harvelle]

masterlist

summary; too many shots lead to the confession you’ve been keeping inside for seven months. tags; bi!fem!reader, angst, fluff, insecurities in sexuality but no details, not proofread. — verse: berry vodka next part (smut)

“C’mon, Dean, I’ve done everything you’ve asked for, I’ve tried—”

“Wasn’t enough if the demon’s still out there!” His voice is so clear it makes me shake. I’ve known Dean for years and years, he’s hardly ever raised his voice at me. No one respects women more than he and his brother do, and not once have they yelled at me no matter what I did— and now he’s screaming, for what? Because I let some demon outsmart me for two seconds?

I scoff and storm out of the bedroom we were fighting in. It was a stupid hunt right next to Ellen’s hence why we’re staying at the roadhouse for the week, so i end up at the bar.

Thankfully, so is my favorite blond. “Hey, Jo.” She smiles wide, waving, and in return dropping the shot glass in her hands to the counter.

“Hi, berry. You’ve been kind of hot and heavy with Dean these days. You okay?” I roll back so I’m sitting straight.

“Thanks,” I blow a kiss when she hands me a Berry Vodka, “we’re ‘kay, he’s just being an asshole.”

She agrees with me (though I’ve yet to tell her what he’s being an asshole about) which makes me lean forward on the bar. “I mean, I’m his friend and you’d think that after hunting together for so long he’d stop blaming me for guys hitting on me.”

Her eyes widen and this time she almost drops the glass on accident, though it’s hardly a close call as she easily regains her composure. “He— what?”

“What?”

“Dean what?”

“He got mad at me?”

“For guys flirting?”

“Yes.”

“Why—” she clears her throat and looks back down at her work, still moving, “why would he— why? Is he like— does he like you?”

“Does Dean—” I let out a laugh, “does Dean like me? Did hell freeze over? No, of course not. He’s not jealous, he’s overprotective. He’s being an ass but he isn’t in love with me.”

“Good,” she lets out a small breath and my heart seizes. Yeah, of course it’s good. Jo’s always been in love with Dean, him liking me would cause a bit of an issue. “I mean— whatever. Yeah. Anyways, why’s he fighting with you anyways?”

“I let a demon go. Thought he was an overly eager guy so I sent him on his way.”

“How’s that your fault?”

“He… might have mentioned he’s a demon— but I thought he was trying to be funny or something, I didn’t know he actually was one. Turns out he wanted to find Sam and Dean. He has something on Yellow Eyes.”

“You guys getting close, then?” One quick nod. The heavy alcohol in the drink burns as I try to finish as much of it as possible at once. I hand it back to Jo and ask for just shots. “You sure?” Another nod.

I need to let go tonight if I’ll be awake and attentive with the guys tomorrow on their wild goose chase. She hands me one shot and I shake my head. She furrowed her eyebrows. “C’mon Jo, I’ll pay.”

“That’s not it and you know it. You can’t drink.”

“What does that even—” she glared at me and maybe, okay, so sometimes I get a little crazy when I’m drunk but so what? I just flirt and dance, it isn’t like I hurt anyone. Besides, waking up with someone in my bed tomorrow could maybe solve all my problems. “Let me have it, Jo. I just need one night, I deserve it.” That seems like the magic word for everyone in my life at the moment.

I die for Dean once and suddenly I have a free pass for the rest of my life. If I’d known, I would’ve died for the jackass sooner. Sam brought me back the same day but still— everyone lets me have it.

She stares at me like she’s contemplating it and then gives in with a sigh. From that point on I’m being served shot after shot and I’m more than sure my tab is so high I won’t be able to pay half of it when the night ends. Jo starts serving me much cheaper brands as the night went on— I’m sure she knows that too.

Three shots later, I’m still sober enough to taste the vodka cheapening. “Jooo,” I draw out her name, “you’re not doin’ enough! I need to get drunk, not bored.”

“Slow down, honey.” I shake my head though my ears heat up at the endearment. No time for that now. Two shots more and I’m officially buzzed. Buzzed enough to not notice Dean sit down next to me.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I shake my head quickly and stand up mumbling something about it being a good night and he seems to take the rejection well, sitting in place as I walk to the empty pool table.

Immediately as I’m racking the balls up, someone’s hands are on my waist. “You wanna give me a round, honey?” And because I literally have nothing better to do, I let the Sam-height, almost Cass-level-hot guy play pool with me.

His facial hair covers most of his face, which actually looks way too good, but his blue eyes look really really beautiful and I can’t stop staring. “Yes. Yeah.” He smirks and moves his hands away.

“What are we playing for?” I almost answer, I’m not sure what to say, before his deep voice comes from behind me. His hands aren’t on my waist, but he might as well swallow me whole if he’ll make me feel this small.

“A hundred bucks, how about that, man?”

“And who are you?”

“Her friend.” Dean has a hand on my shoulder. Asking loudly enough for the other guy to hear, “you mind me playin’, sweetheart?”

Obviously, I shake my head and we get started. I’m winning so far, the guy— Stefan or something— is downright embarrassing at the game. Dean is letting me and I’m drunk enough to not care. Three more hits and i sigh. “I want drinks.”

Stefan perks up from his round, “I’ll go get ‘em. What do you drink, honey?” He asked for my name ages ago and I gave it but he doesn’t seem to like it.

“I will go get them.” Dean decides and taps the taller man’s shoulder once. That’s smart. I’m not sure why it is— but it is. Stefan’s closer now. Too close.

“I like girls.” I whisper, or blurt, or something that means I say it so fast and so low that I don’t hear or understand it myself.

“You— what?”

“I’m into girls. M’sorry. You’re so close. M’not kissing you.”

“Yeah, I— I wasn’t.” He furrowed his eyebrows but I just shrugged and moved further back. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” I mean, he asked me if I wanted another round by trapping me into the pool table.

I must’ve said it outloud because, “I didn’t trap you, I mean, I held you but that’s because you were kinda off your feet. I apologize if—”

“Oh. M’sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It isn’t your fault.”

“Good.” I smile and move closer now. He’s warm when I’m not worried he’s trying to get in my pants. I’m not exclusively into girls— only half way, I’m bi, but it seemed like the easiest way to disgust and run away a man.

We talk, enough for me to know his dogs name and for him to know that Dean means well, he’s just worried because I’m drunk, and that he isn’t my boyfriend.

“You sure? Does he know that?” I glance over at the hunter, speaking to Jo with those twinkling green eyes.

I nod once and tell him we should keep playing. Dean seems occupied. We keep going and set the balls up evenly again. The first round I’ve won two hundred from both men, then we decided to play for nothing and I’m regretting it cause I could’ve really made my bill if I kept receiving money with the way I’m winning.

“You’re good.” He’s sweet. I get his number and we talk— promise to keep in touch for when I come back to town and just as he’s about to leave I catch up with him.

“Stefan,” I call out once and then I trip over something. Faster than light, I’m already draped over his arm. Falling and whatever. He wants to say something but I quickly straighten up to kiss him, moving my fingers through his hair. He seems to enjoy that, pulling me closer. Then he pulls away.

“How much have you been drinking?”

“What?” That’s not a question you ask someone that’s sleeping with you. Or planning to.

“How many drinks?”

“I— I don’t know like so little,” he shakes his head, “only five.”

“Five?”

“Shots.” He lets out a scoff and walks me back to the bar. I’m sure I’m pouting by both the looks on Dean and Jo’s faces and by the pull of my mine. And maybe Stefan’s laugh. He hands me off to them and I wave at him. He makes me promise to call tomorrow and I nod. “He was so nice. Why don’t nice guys go for me?” I groan, banging my head against the wood of the bar softly.

“That’s not true.” I know it’s Jo who says that which makes it even worse. Of course you’d think that. You’re trying to get me to leave so you can suck Dean’s face off. It’s not fair. He gets all the girls. Always. Even the ones I really like.

“Whatever.” I take out the two hundred and hand it to Jo. “Keep it.”

“Berry, that’s a hundred and twenty five tip.”

I shrug and stand out of the chair. “M’gonna go to sleep.” Heading up the stairs proves to be a lot harder than i initially planned and so I just give up halfway through and sit down with my head in my hands and tears flowing too fast for me to comprehend why they’re there. This sucks. Having feelings suck. Why can’t I be an angel or demon or something devoid of emotions? Why can’t I be heartless like— I don’t know— Dean!

“Ouch, sweetheart.” I need to stop speaking my thoughts out loud. “I agree with you there. What’s wrong, berry?”

“I hate that stupid nickname.”

He frowns, sitting down next to me, a step below. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause she came up with it and s’not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“That she likes you. She always likes you. And I like you too, De, but this is so annoying like why can’t she love me! Why am I not enough to love? S’it ‘cause I’m not a man? I don’t wanna be a stupid man, I like being a girl. Why can’t girls just like me without me being a guy!” I cant even comprehend the words before they’re out and I just wish Dean would hold me and comfort me. Or maybe make Jo fall in love with me magically.

“Who likes me, berry?”

“Jo! Stupid Jo! And I’ve been the best friend ever and she still doesn’t like me. She’ll never like me and it’s ‘cause I’m a girl.” Deans beautiful face scrunches up into a frown and he shakes his head.

“D’ya tell her you like her?” No. “Well there you go. You need to tell her so you can know if she likes you back or not.”

“N’what if she doesn’t?”

“I’ll still love you.” I smile at the words, “and Jo will always be your friend.” Who are you and what have you done with Dean? “Oh, shut up.”

“Dean,” I whisper after a moment. “Can you tell Jo?”

He shakes his head.

“Can Sam tell her?” He shakes his head again.

“Tell who what?” Oh that’s Jo.

“Tell you I like you.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean leave a room, or staircase, as fast as he just did. Ever. “Like you like you. Like i want to kiss you all day and I want to hold you— but I can’t ‘cause you like Dean.”

Her eyes are still wide which probably mean she hates me now but my legs aren’t working so I don’t stand up, just wallow in my guilt and failure in front of her.

“Berry, you mean it?” I nod once but keep my head down. Her soft fingers hook under my chin and I look up at her. She’s closer now. Very very much closer. Close enough for me to taste the vanilla perfume i got for her last birthday. She’s close enough to—

Jo’s kissing me. Jo Harvelle’s lips are moving against mine, gentle, but desperate. Hard and soft. Everything all at once and it’s better than I could’ve imagined. I think it’s so good i forget to kiss back because she stops to backtrack, small stutters of I’m sorry and I shouldn’t so I quickly stand up (wow, my legs are back) and kiss her a little too roughly I slip my tongue in there.

“Jo,” I moan against her mouth and she nods but doesn’t acknowledge it. I’m sobering up. Too sober to be in a situation I’ve imagined a thousand times a day for the past seven months.

“Jo, bedroom— please.” She nods quicker this time and pulls away enough for me to breathe and take the image of her kiss-flushed face in. She’s everything I’ve ever imagined and needed but I can’t do this.

“Jo, I can’t—” she stops right in front of her room. “I don’t— I love you. And I can be here for you if you’re… I don’t know experimenting but, you need to tell me. I can’t just be a phase, Jo.”

“M’not. C’mon, hey,” she presses another kiss on my lips, slow, “I love you too. You know that. You must’ve known that I’ve loved you ever since you and those idiots came into the roadhouse, but you’re just, you know so much and I didn’t know if you’d ever want someone who doesn’t even know their own sexuality or—”

Now it’s my turn to shut her up with a kiss and I push us into her room. “Shut up. So are we—”

“Yes.” She smiles against me. “You’re mine, berry.”

#jo harvelle #jo harvelle x reader #spn crack #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural smut #supernatural rewrite #spn fanart #sam winchester #spn rant #spn cast #dean winchester #dean x reader #castiel #bisexual #laila writes!!

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xxxninjaxxx23 · 6 months ago

Text

You brought the light I needed in my life

Part 1

Samantha Carpenter x GN Reader.

New York City has always been a bustling hotspot for restaurants, opportunities, and some “night activities.”

And yet Samantha Carpenter can’t shake this emptiness she feels everyday in her life.

(Sam’s Pov) It was a busy friday evening and I had just gotten off my shift at the diner. The Manager let me go home early with my regular pay as a reward for working hard.

Truth is. There’s a reason why I don’t take days off and constantly work.

I wrapped up my leftovers in a bag for dinner later and walk back to the apartment since the gym was closed today ‘that’s where I usually spend my time’.

New York being the big city it is, I had to bump through crowds, junkies and greeted some couples. When I got to my complex, some people were already shooting looks at me, one threw a paper ball at me.

‘Looks like our neighbors know I’m the daughter of a small town serial killer.’

After getting past the death glares, I enter my apartment and put my leftovers in the fridge. Then I pour a cup of whiskey, sitting down to collect my thoughts, not bothering to turn on the tv.

I hear the door open a half hour later “Sam! Im home” hearing that voice always brings a little smile to my face.

Tara sets her shopping bags down and sits on the couch next to me, turning on the tv. I felt a bit of joy knowing I’m giving Tara what she always wanted. A degree, a boyfriend, and freedom to live her life provided she be careful of the dangers.

I took a sip of my drink “So how was your date with Chad?”

Tara jumped in excitement “Amazing! We went to a nice restaurant that had an open mic. You should have seen Chad try to sing “All of me” he did it a little off key but reassured that it was a “song picked just for me.” Tomorrow we’re going to an arcade that just opened. Want to join us?”

I felt an ache in my chest and it wasn’t the whiskey “Thank you Tara….but I don’t want to impose. Especially since I’m letting you live your life freely.”

Damn. I didn’t do much to hid my emotions and Tara was quick to notice.

“Is everything ok?” She asked putting a hand on my shoulder. Normally, I hate being asked that but this is my sister ‘sigh’ “I guess….I guess I’m just lonely to tell you the truth.”

Tara was confused “Lonely? Aw don’t be silly, you have me and the twins.”

I sipped my drink once again “I mean you know….lonely.” Tara playfully slapped her forehead. “Ohhh I see. I mean, I can try to help you find a date.”

I smiled a bit. “That would be nice, I just hope I find one. It’s not that easy when you’re the daughter of the first Ghostface.” Tara nodded “If that worries you, I can take a break from Chad and spend some time with you.”

“But Tara, you love him.” My sister nodded “I do. But you’re my sister and I love you more. All you have to do is say the word.”

I sniffled heavily before wrapping my arms around Tara “Oof. How can a (Guy/Girl) not love a woman with big muscles?” I laughed a bit.

(1 month later)

(Tara’s pov) True to my word, I spent more time with Sam. Even though she assured me that it was ok with me bringing Chad to the apartment or going on dates with him.

Since Chad is still asleep from finishing that assignment, I’m eating breakfast with Mindy and Anika. They were surprised that I chose to eat at the place Sam works at.

“I think I know what i want.” I said as Mindy looked up from her menu “T. Did you choose this place because it’s that good?”

“Or did you want a free meal from your sister?” Anika finished, laughing.

I rolled my eyes “No….I’m going to pay for-“ I felt my pockets “Shit! I forgot my wallet!” Mindy shook her head “Didn’t you forget it the last time you went with my brother to that restaurant.”

I blushed from embarrassment “Y-yes but I gave him the money back when I got paid.”

Anika nodded “What you really need is one of those wallet chains so you never have to lose it again. Plus it would look hot on you.”

Mindy playfully smacked Anika’s arm as Sam came by to take our orders “Now, now. Don’t kill each other until AFTER you eat.” As we took our orders, I picked mine which was a bit pricey ‘Sorry Sam.’

“Umm big sis. You think you can spot me for this one?”

Sam rolled her eyes “Again? How many times do I have to tell you to stop forgetting your money?” I smiled playfully “Pleaseeee. I won’t forget next time and I will pay you back, I promise.”

(Sams pov) I shook my head, not wanting my sister to throw a tantrum or steal somebody else’s food “Fine. I’ll hold you to that.” I gathered up the menus and took the orders to the kitchen. After that, I decided to wipe down the counter since it was a slow morning.

I was finishing the display case until a new customer walked in. “Welcome to Crown Shy. Would you like

I looked up from the case and was at a loss for words when I set my eyes on the person that walked in.

(Sorry I had to. Lol)

youtube

Their (gothic/eccentric) attire was stunning enough to make a lot of heads turn. I shook my head, hiding my blush “ ‘Ahem’ Welcome to Crown Shy. Would you like a booth or a table?”

(He/She) requested a booth saying they have a friend meeting them here for a class assignment. My shoulders tensed as I dropped the menu on the floor, running to get new one “Sorry about that”

I took a quiet breath and awaited their order.

(Tara’s pov) Another waitress brought our food and we were in the middle of a feast until I spotted Sam making eyes at the new customer that just walked in. I tapped Mindy on the shoulder “Ooh! Direct hit Cupid.” Mindy whispered.

“I’ll say. I think this is the first time I’ve seen my sister as a drooling lovesick puppy.” I nearly laughed when she dropped the menu and went to snatch a new one off another table “Smooth move Casanova” Anika whispered.

After Sam took her potential lovers order and brought their food out, she stepped outside telling her boss she was taking her fifteen. “Looks like someone needs a little push Tar” Mindy said.

I nodded as I went outside to find Sam with a hand on her chest, trying to control her rapid breathing.

“Someone’s got a crushhhh. Someone’s got a crushhh” I said in a singing voice, handing Sam a water bottle from my bag.

Sam wasn’t amused and showed her blush “Look. Try to talk to them Sammy. This is your chance to finally get a (Boyfriend/Girlfriend)”

She took a sip from her water bottle “B-but what if they don’t like me? What if they find out who I really am and never talk to me again?” I gently squeezed her shoulder

“Sam, you won’t know if you don’t try. I’ll be right there to comfort you if anything happens. Just introduce yourself and ask if you can sit with them until their friend shows up, make some small talk my hot sis.”

(Sam’s pov) I shook my head, smiling “I’m not really that hot but I’ll still make small talk with them.” We both head back inside the diner, seeing that the new customer is already eating their food.

I check my watch “Ok still on my break, time to make my move” I whispered.

I walk over to their table “Hi. Um, do you mind if I sit with you? I’m currently on break and my coworkers are having a football debate back there.

The customer looked up and smiled “Sure. I could use the company, seeing my friend is running a bit late.”

I hid the excitement in my stomach and sat down. “I’m Y/N by the way Y/N L/N.” They said extending their hand “Samantha….Carpenter. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ll say. It’s not often I see a pretty girl wanting to have lunch with me.”

I was flattered “So you think I’m pretty?” Now it was their turn to blush “Um s-sure? I mean I would really like to get to know you more.”

I felt my phone vibrate. I open it to see laughing emojis from Tara saying we are “Both hopeless with the small talk.” I shot a look at her, shaking my head.

I took a breath and engaged in a conversation like our favorite hobbies, movies, latest tv shows. I was amazed by how much we have in common unlike Ritchie who never liked almost all my hobbies. Sometimes I question why I got with him in the first place.

Anyways we talked a bit more along with me complementing their outfit, saying it “Makes them stand out and look more attractive.” I didn’t realize how long we were talking until I realized I was five minutes over my break.

I quickly jumped from the booth and back to my station in a flash but not before leaving my number on the receipt if they want to talk more.

(One shift later)

(Sam’s pov) This day was very slow and tiring. I was anxiously waiting for the time to fly by and luckily it did. But earlier, Tara didn’t help by eating loud and throwing trash on the floor. I swear my sister has the manners of a child. I rest my case when she let out a loud belch which ‘sigh’ everyone heard!

“Sorry! Excuse me!”

I cleaned the rest of the floors and whatever trash was on the tables as the last 30 mins approached. When it was time, I clocked out and said bye to my coworkers and boss.

Heading outside, I put my apron away and check my phone for any new messages. I got one from Tara who once again teased me that I was in a rush to see my new “lover.” I rolled my eyes and left that on read.

The next message was from….Oh Y/N and they asked if I wanted to watch a movie together. I responded back to it being a plan. We’ll watch a movie at my place and I’ll make the best dinner.

(Later)

(Tara’s pov) I sat on the couch waiting to go to the arcade. Chad really needs to stop staying up late and sleeping in late. It’s getting pretty hectic but I still end up dealing with it.

I check my phone “Hm, still got an hour left” I turn on the tv and snack on a few corn chips.

I got halfway through an episode of South Park until Sam came by with a hand vac, “Tara! I just cleaned here. Must you always be so messy.”

I scoffed “Looks like someone’s eager to keep the place clean for their new (Boyfriend/Girlfriend)”

Sam snatched the chips away from me “They’re not my lover. I just want spend time with a new friend, and that is making sure this place looks presentable.”

I nodded “Sure and I’ll be a millionaire one day. Look I get it. You want to make a first impression and that’s ok. No more lone wolf tonight Sam, it’s time for a new chapter, go get (him/her) tiger!”

(Sam’s pov) After cleaning Tara’s mess for the second time, I take a long needed shower and put on something simple. An hour later, the doorbell rings. “Y/N! Nice to see you again. It’s me uh Sam….from the diner” We both shared a hug before they went to the living room to pick out the movie.

Tara left for the arcade but not before ripping into me again “I swear you have no game sis. How did you even end up with Ritchie?” She whispered, laughing as she closed the door.

Damn it Tara! Why do you have to be such a gremlin? Though she’s not wrong, I really need to work on my pull game.

‘Just be yourself Sam, just be yourself.’

As I got the cooking utensils ready, I called from the kitchen island “So baby. Did you choose a good movie for us to watch?” I slapped my mouth

‘Of course! Leave it to Sam Carpenter to find a way to fuck a simple question up!’

Y/N smiled, laughing a bit “Hmm not yet. Maybe you should pick, baby.” They said, winking.

‘This is gonna be a long night…..good, I hope it never ends’

After Y/N selected the movie to watch, (he/she) joined me in the kitchen to help prepare the food.”

“Ok let’s make some of my famous pasta. Normally we charge $19.99 for this at the cafe.” Y/N was shocked “$20 for pasta?!” I nodded “It’s a family recipe, my um….father knew the right spices to use.”

Then we set the noodles and water to a boil. As it was cooking along with the sauce, we took the opportunity to take some silly pics together then post them. When the food was done, we set the plates and ate on the coffee table (Sam made sure it was clean after her sister put her bare feet on it recently. She really let Tara have it afterwards)

“I hope this isn’t a gory movie. I don’t want to lose my dinner.” Y/N shook their head “No this is more of an action movie. It’s called John wick.” I smiled “I don’t think I ever heard of that movie.”

A few hours into the movie, I was blown away by how ruthless this man was all over a car and…well I guess it makes sense with the dog.

(Y/N’s POV) After the movie was over and we cleaned up, I got my jacket and was about to head out seeing it was late. I said my byes but right as I was about to leave, I felt a hand on my arm “Stay with me….please?”

I smiled ‘How can I say no to that face?’ “Alright but um….I don’t have any sleepwear. I might have to sleep in my underwear if you don’t mind?”

I saw sweat pouring down from Sam’s forehead “N-No…I don’t mind at all.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead ‘probably shouldn’t have done that’ but she shrugged it off and led me to her room.

(Bedroom)

As Sam was in the bathroom, changing into her night clothes, I stripped down to my underwear. I put my clothes next to the bed on the floor. Few minutes later, Sam came back wearing said night clothes but she stood like a deer in headlights.

I was confused for a minute but then realized “Ah, you like what you see here? I said, showing off my body a bit.

Sam swallowed “Mmhm” was all she said before pulling me into bed with her.

Sam had a tv in her room so we watched a show just to fall asleep to but mostly talked a lot rather than watch the show or even drifting off to sleep.

I decide to try my luck “Snuggle me?” Sam was hesitant “Y-you want me to snuggle you?” That got me nervous, hoping I didn’t push things too quick besides the kiss of course. “Yes…but I understand if you don’t want to. I’m not here to make you uncomfortable.”

I felt some relief when she giggled “Come here.” She said extended her arms which I fell into perfectly. I felt butterflies in my stomach as she nestled next to me. “Sorry I was a little confused at first because no one I dated asked me to be the big spoon.”

I faced her a bit “Hm? Who wouldn’t want a woman with big biceps wrapped around them so safe?” Sam smiled “Probably because, they were jealous that I was more fit and muscular than them.”

I shook my head “I guess they forgot the definition of “Exercise” and “Workout” I said. “I do workouts myself but I been meaning to find a partner to go to the gym with.”

Sam rubbed my arms sounding a bit tired “I’d be happy to fill that role and go to the gym with you.”

I felt myself blush ‘Part of me really wants to kiss Sam for real this time but I don’t know if she wants a relationship now…or one with me. That might not be true, maybe just maybe I might have a chance at love again….I hope.’

I stayed awake for a bit hoping to ask Sam if she’s interested but I didn’t realize that sleep has taken her until I heard a snore from said girl. “Maybe tomorrow….yeah tomorrow’s ‘yawn’ a good day to tell her.” I felt my eyes get heavy, then fell asleep into Sam’s arms, holding me in place.

(Later on into the night when the pair were fully asleep, Tara came home and went to check on her sister. She had to stop herself from squealing at the sight that had emitted her eyes.

“This is definitely going on my page.” Tara said as she snapped a quick photo then left, closing the door.

“Goodnight Sam….Goodnight Y/N. I think you just brought the light my sister needed in her dull life.”

To be continued

Btw there’s the idea of the reader but the choice is still yours if these pictures don’t cut it

You got the gothic(eh maybe) or the elegant reader lol.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter × you #scream x reader #gender neutral reader #scream #romance #Youtube #melissa barrera #tara carpenter #sam and tara carpenter #sisters #samantha carpenter x reader #thank you #unbreakable bond #carpenter sisters

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reigningqueenofwords · 7 months ago

Text

Paintings

Pairing: Castiel x Winchester!Reader Word count: 1,953

Read on AO3

Sitting in the room that your brothers had set up for you, you tilted your head as you looked over the canvas in front of you. You were surrounded by some finished pieces, pieces you’d started and were waiting for new inspiration for, and then some pieces you hated and just never threw away. You were wearing a pair of old jeans and a tank top, not caring about the amount of paint that currently covered you.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. When you looked over your shoulder, you were met with Dean’s face. “Sis, we kill things for a living, so please tell me why you paint like this?” He motioned around as he stepped it.

“Like what?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking innocent.

He played Vanna White at your current piece. “Like you just ripped a guy’s heart out and decided to paint with it?!” He said simply. “It’s weird.” He shuddered. “It’s like the murder room in here.” He explained.

You blinked. “Huh.” You shrugged. “I never thought of it that way.” You admitted. “Maybe it’s my way of working through things we see? You drink and jack off to Busty Asian Beauties. Sam nerds out. I paint.” That was your best theory. “And spend time with Cas when he can.” You pouted. He’d been somewhat busy lately, leaving you little time with your boyfriend.

“Hopefully he can take you out soon. Get you away from this.” He motioned to your work again. “Can’t you paint something with life?” He asked.

“I could try, but it probably wouldn’t be any good.” You told him.

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got talent, so stop trying to pretend you don’t. Anyways, dinner is done.” He moved towards the door. “Can you take a break from blood and guts to eat with your older brothers?” He teased you.

“Give me five minutes to put the covers on my pallets and clean my brushes.” You smiled. “And get me a beer?” You asked him, going to work on cleaning up. “And not one of those alcohol free ones you’re hell bent on me drinking.”

“You’re my baby sister, so sue me.”

Stopping what you were doing, you stared at him. “Dean. I turned thirty two months ago .” You laughed. “I’m not a baby!”

“Shuddup.” He muttered before leaving you alone.

“Wash your hands.” Sam told you as he set things out on the table. “I know your hands are covered in paint.”

You chuckled. “Jokes on you. My hands are clean, Sammy.” You showed him when he looked up at you. “Had to clean my brushes.” You explained. “Need any help?” You offered.

He smiled. “Nope. We’re good.” He sat down as Dean brought over three beers. “I actually cooked dinner. No takeout tonight.” He said proudly.

“Oh, impressive. And I was so getting used to the bad Chinese and Taco Bell.” You teased, getting yourself comfortable. “And thank you for the real beer.” You told Dean, lifting it to your lips.

Cas appeared a moment later. “Oh, you’ve already begun dinner.” He sighed. “I was hoping to take Y/N for a date.” He explained. “Perhaps another night.” He noted, sitting down.

Dean nudged you. “Go on.” He told you. “Or he’s going to pout like a puppy who lost his bone.” He teased his best friend. It had been weird as hell when you first started dating him, but over time...he was okay with it. “Besides, that ‘another night’ might not happen for weeks for all we know.” He pointed out.

“You sure?” You looked between the boys. “You cooked.” You reminded Sam.

He smiled, nodding. “I can easily put the leftovers in the freezer.” He assured you. “Go.”

You got up, moving to hug each of your brothers. “You’re the best. Love you. I promise I’ll work on that ‘life’ painting tomorrow, Dean!” You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle and shake his head. You got to Cas and held out your hand. “All yours!”

Cas’s face lit up as he stood. “I am looking forward to our date. I’ve missed you.” He said sweetly before he kissed you.

Dean made a face. “Dude.” He said jokingly.

“Going!” You laughed, tugging Cas out of the room. “Let me change and then we can go. Did you have someplace in mind?” You asked as you neared your room. “So I know how to dress.”

“You are fine in what you are wearing.” He chuckled. “Although, I would suggest shoes.” He pointed out. “I find I enjoy when you are covered in paint. Means you had a good day in your ‘studio’, which I know makes you happy.” His blue eyes traveled over your body as he spoke.

You blushed and looked at him. “Can I show you my latest work?” You asked shyly, wanting to see if he thought the same thing as Dean.

He beamed. “Of course.” He nodded, letting you tug him in the direction of your little studio. “I always enjoy seeing it.” He had simply watched you work for hours on end before, observing you. It was beautiful.

Opening the door, you let him in and shut it behind him. “Dean doesn’t get my work.” You told him. “Says it looks like I took a guy’s heart and painted with it or something.” You traced your fingers gently over the outside of your new canvas. “Asked me to paint something with ‘life’.” You sighed.

“What is more full of life than blood?” Cas asked. When you looked at him, eyebrow raised, he smiled at you. “Blood truly is life.” He pointed out. “Without it, humans would die, animals would parish.”

You nodded at that. “That is a very good point.” You agreed. “Dean calls it the murder room.” You shrugged. “I dunno, just wanted your opinion. I never noticed it until he said that. I like my work. It speaks to me. Except for those.” You pointed to the corner. “Those are my disowned works.”

He chuckled lightly. “Why do you keep them?” He asked, curious.

“Inspiration to do better?” You guessed, chewing on your lip as you looked around. Slowly, you smiled at him. “I have an idea…” You moved to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I need the help of a certain angel.” You flirted.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “And how may I help you?” He asked, voice low.

Pecking his lips, you grinned. “Strip.” You patted his chest.

“Strip? As in, remove my clothing?” He asked, wanting to clarify things.You nodded as you slowly pulled away, taking off your tank top.

Both of you stripped, eyes never leaving each other as you did so. “Now, pick some paint.” You pointed to where there was a bunch of new bottles. “No more than say six. Don’t want it to get muddy.” You moved things out of the way as he looked over his options, wanting them to be perfect. Once there was enough room, you set up as many canvases as you could fit in the area.

“Are these okay?” He asked, turning with two bottles in each hand- teal, dark blue, emerald green, and a color that reminded you of his eyes.

“Perfect.” You nodded, excited. “Give me two.” You reached out, getting dark blue and emerald green. “Now shoot streaks all over the place. On these canvases.” You told him.

“And this will create ‘life art’?” He asked as he opened his two bottles.

You did the same. “It’s the start.” You explained. “Move around to get some all over.” You told him, not staying put. Once you felt there was enough, you stopped. “That’s good. Can you put these over there?” You handed him your bottles and motioned to the ones that were opened.

Castiel nodded, taking them. “Of course.” He agreed. “Now...what?” He was curious as you walked across the canvases towards him.

“Now, you’re going to lay me down on these and we’re going to enjoy each other.” You ran your hand over his chest. “We’re going to make a painting with our bodies.” Kissing him softly, you smiled.

His hands gripped your hips. “I will not object to that.” He told you, kissing you lovingly as the pair of you moved to lay down.

Dean was walking by your room when he heard you laughing and paused. He furrowed his brows, moving towards it. “Sis?” He called out before opening the door. “Oh, come on .” He instantly left.

Walking into the kitchen, your hair was wet and you were wearing your bathrobe. Cas wasn’t that far behind, a smile on his face. He was dressed in his own clothes, but his hair was also wet. “Please erase that image from my mind.” Dean down the last of his beer.

“Hey, you asked me to create a life painting.” You smirked.

“I didn’t say ‘make babies in paint’!” He countered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I want to forget that sight.” He groaned.

Cas furrowed his brows. “We were not ‘making babies’.” He told Dean. “I have no wish to lose her to childbirth.”

You giggled as Dean put his head on the table. “I think you’re breaking him.” You told your boyfriend. “Let’s just get my ice cream and go watch a movie.” You said as you got a bowl. “I’m sure it’ll pass, Dean.” You told your older brother. “You’ll be okay.”

He shook his head, not moving it from the table. “I regret telling you to make ‘life paintings’. Please, stick to your murder work.” He turned his head to look at you.

“I might. Depends on if these sell.” You shrugged.

That made him sit up. “Sell?” He asked, curiosity piqued. “What are you talking about? You’ve never mentioned selling your work before.”

You nodded, finishing getting your ice cream and putting it away. “It was Cas’s idea. Said that my talent should be shared, and it might be a good way for us to make some spare cash.” You turned to lean against the counter, bowl in hand. “So, I’m going to ask Sam to help me figure out how to sell some stuff online.” You explained.

Dean smiled at that. “See, told you that you have talent.” He said proudly. “You got a ton of work in there you can sell.”

“Except I requested she keep one of our pieces.” Cas noted.

“Please never mention your ‘pieces’ again.” Dean said over his shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find something to take my mind off...that.” He moved to the fridge to grab another beer before leaving the two of them alone.

Running through the bunker when you heard Dean get home from a supply run. “Dean!” You were nearly jumping with excitement. “Guess what?!” You squealed.

“What?” He laughed, loving seeing you like this.

“Everything. Sold.” You told him. “In just the time that you were gone.” You gushed. “Cas and Sam and helping me get everything wrapped up. The buyer is in the city.” You explained. “All. One. Buyer.”

His eyebrows went up. “One?!” He grinned. “That’s amazing. You sure it’s legit?” He didn’t want you getting screwed over.

You nodded. “He’s sent half the money already.” You told him. “We meet him about dinner time. And, then after, I’d like to take my big brothers out to celebrate.”

“What about Cas?” He asked.

“We’re going away for a few days, leaving Friday.” You told him happily. “Going to Greece. Saving on airfare, thankfully.”

Dean hugged you, happy for you. “You’ll be in a museum one day.” He beamed.

#castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel oneshot

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