#And I've had this look in my head for a while now
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.
this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋
never lose me
"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.
"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.
"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.
He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.
"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.
"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.
"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."
You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.
"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.
He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.
Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.
"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.
"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.
"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.
You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.
"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.
"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.
"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.
You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.
The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.
"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.
"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.
"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.
"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.
Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.
"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."
"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.
He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.
Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.
When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.
"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.
You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.
"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.
"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.
"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.
He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.
You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.
"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.
"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.
"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.
He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.
"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.
"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.
"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.
"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.
"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.
"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.
Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.
"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.
"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.
"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.
"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.
"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.
"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.
You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.
"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.
He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.
You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.
"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.
He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.
It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.
His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.
He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.
Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.
Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.
He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.
You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.
"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.
Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.
"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.
Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.
You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.
His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.
You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.
He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.
"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.
Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.
You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.
You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.
"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.
After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.
The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.
You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.
You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.
The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.
"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.
You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.
"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.
You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.
You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.
Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.
"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.
"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.
Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.
You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.
"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” “I said yes,” you snap. Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.” “Yeah. I see that.” “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.” “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”
“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮💨😮💨😮💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎��💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder.
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.”
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.”
You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps.
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.”
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.”
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.”
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice.
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”
“I said yes,” you snap.
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.”
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being -
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected.
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.”
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.”
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.”
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that.
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song.
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble.
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.”
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.”
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch.
“The other one.”
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace.
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him.
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?”
“Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.”
“No. It was burning me.”
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.”
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.”
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you.
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.”
“You can ask, you know.”
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.”
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.”
“Yes.”
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?”
“It’s not your business.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.”
“I don’t want to,” you whine.
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.”
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.”
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.”
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip.
“All of it.”
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.”
“Yeah. I see that.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.”
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Right. Somewhere else.”
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you.
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?”
“Yes.”
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.”
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck.
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass.
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is.
“Joel.”
No answer.
“JOELLLL,” you yell.
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.”
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?”
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.”
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?”
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too.
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you.
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel.
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper.
“Exactly.”
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says.
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs.
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while.
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that.
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it.
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before.
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure.
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized.
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.”
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it.
And fucks you, and fucks you.
And keeps fucking you.
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.”
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle.
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?”
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
“But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.”
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.”
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.”
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head.
“Super, yeah. Sore.”
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!
You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.
“Gotta warm you up properly.”
He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot.
You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.
“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”
As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart.
When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow.
Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.
“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.”
He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.
Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful.
“Ye ready?”
Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.
“Uh-huh.”
You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you.
“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.”
“No, I want to.”
Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,
“Ready.”
There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,
“Jesus…fuck…”
He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up,
“Johnny.”
“Yeah, LT?”
“Ease up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest.
Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,
“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...”
You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together.
“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”
Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him.
A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,
“Christ, LT.”
“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”
There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice.
“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”
He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there.
You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch.
“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?”
You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless.
“Uh-huh,”
It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable.
Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though.
“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.
His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss.
“You got one more in you?”
Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly.
“Always.”
#i feel like i repeated alot of shit but i didn't bother to reread this lol#had to write something#its been too long#short stuff#imagines#ghoap x reader#ghoap x you#simon riley#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#soap x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost soap#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost soap x reader
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Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)
Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617
As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.
"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."
When he said that I turned to Yeji.
"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"
"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"
After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.
"What was that Y/N?"
"Ryujin? What are you doing?"
"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."
"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."
"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"
"Yes but only-"
Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.
"Don't go over to her house."
"Why?"
"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."
"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"
"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."
Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.
I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.
I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.
At Yeji's House
I knocked on the door and waited for a response.
After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.
"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"
"Sure am Yeji."
Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.
After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.
"Y/N is that your phone?"
"Yeah why?"
"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."
"Don't worry about it Yeji."
I went and put me phone on silent.
"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"
"No it was just a spam message."
"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."
I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.
"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"
"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"
"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"
"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."
"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."
Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.
"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."
I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.
"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"
"Yeah sure let's do it."
I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.
"Let's go back to our work Y/N."
Next Day
As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"
Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"
Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"
I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.
When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.
"Y/N make your way to room 304."
"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.
"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."
I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.
"Glad you decided to follow me."
I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.
When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"
Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.
Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"
"Actually she's my girlfriend."
I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."
"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.
"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."
"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.
"Come on Yeji let's go back."
After School
As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin
Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."
I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."
I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.
"Hello?"
"Come in!"
When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.
"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"
I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.
"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"
"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."
Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.
"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."
Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.
"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."
"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"
Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.
"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"
"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"
Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.
"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."
Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.
"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"
"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."
Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.
"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"
I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.
Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.
"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.
Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.
"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"
"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."
Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.
I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.
"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"
"Ryujin!"
I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.
"Please Ryujin!"
"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."
"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"
Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.
"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."
"Mommy please!"
My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.
"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"
Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.
Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.
"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.
The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.
"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"
"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"
"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"
I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.
I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.
"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."
"Kiss me."
Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.
"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.
Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.
"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"
"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"
"Did you hear something Ryujin?"
"No must've been the wind."
I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.
"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"
"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."
Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.
"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.
I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.
"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."
"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."
"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."
-
The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.
"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"
"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"
"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.
I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.
"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.
"So your cock does still have some life in it."
"Yeji please no more."
"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"
I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.
"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"
"Yeji my cock is so sore!"
After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.
"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."
"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."
"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."
Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.
-
The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.
"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.
"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."
"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"
"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."
I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.
"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."
"What!?
"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."
Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired
Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.
#itzy#ryujin#shin ryujin#itzy smut#kpop smut#smut#girl group smut#itzy x reader#ryujin smut#kpop gg#yeji#yeji smut#threes0me
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okay sooooo
i had this little thought right
okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)
this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)
then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)
then you can choose where that goes from there
lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head
its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!
hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.
anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!
i hope you like it! 🫶🏻
my hero
summary: a small but very happy incident.
warnings: none
pairings: azriel x reader
words: 2.2k
tick
tack
tick
tack
"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy.
as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.
it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything.
the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once.
you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.
a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.
you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically.
you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.
how could just a person cause such a mess?
tick
tack
tick
tack
"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again
at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain.
before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.
you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.
this was going to be a very long day.
and that's when it you.
your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets.
after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise.
a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time.
10:07 am
"oh, shit."
you were late for your internship at the clinic.
"oh, shit."
you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress.
you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.
when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room.
as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.
the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body.
"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.
great, as if your day wasn't already going badly.
"sorry," a small voice said.
you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend.
right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor.
the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.
"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."
you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.
"idiot!" you cursed quietly.
you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.
so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.
rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance.
their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.
the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.
"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.
you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."
rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."
"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.
you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.
"what?" you asked confused.
cassian's eyes roam over your body.
"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.
cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."
you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."
rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times."
cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."
with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.
as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.
instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.
the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place.
what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail.
and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room.
his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.
"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.
he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.
"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.
at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.
"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.
the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name.
his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n."
you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.
azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter.
he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.
cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger.
"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen.
"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.
"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers."
azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look.
"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other."
both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.
"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.
rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?"
you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."
"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.
azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.
azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.
"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth.
cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir."
azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly.
he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.
he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.
azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.
he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain.
"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late."
without a second thought, azriel took a step back.
"here," he told you.
you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.
your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos.
you loved those tattoos.
"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.
"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"
"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk."
your face softened, "really? you would do that?"
the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.
"of course."
you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."
you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.
you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.
caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch.
a new blush came to decorate his cheeks.
"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears.
"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes.
azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.
cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love.
cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.
"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete.
rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."
azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.
"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.
once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.
a goofy smile reappeared on his face.
he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."
cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.
•••
the trip to the clinic was quick.
azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.
you took a step forward before turning to him.
"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning."
and there it was that goofy smile again.
"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure."
you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.
azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat.
you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?"
you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.
"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.
he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye.
azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.
he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.
it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear.
and you were the right person for that.
azriel made a decision at that moment.
at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.
he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.
he just hoped you felt the same way.
and that you said yes.
general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley
*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
#acotar#acotar fandom#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar series#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#cassian#rhysand#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#request
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have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!
i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!
this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3
birthmarks
"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.
"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.
"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.
"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.
"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.
"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.
"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.
"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.
"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.
"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.
"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.
"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.
"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."
You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.
"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.
"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.
"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.
"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.
"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.
"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.
"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.
"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.
"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."
"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.
"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.
"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.
"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.
"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.
"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.
Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"
#gn reader#drabble#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me solomon#omswd#obey me! shall we date#obey me! shall we date?
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Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.
"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.
"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"
Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.
"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"
You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.
"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.
"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."
You hum, letting his rant continue.
"And I was on the line."
"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.
"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."
"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.
"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."
"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. “I've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.
"It's a joke, Buck."
"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."
"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.
Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."
You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."
"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"
#http shield ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ#✮⋆˙ bucky barnes#draft dump#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky fanfic
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43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.
history smothers us
emily prentiss x gn!reader
summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.
a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!
The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.
The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips.
The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you.
Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.
Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you.
You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once.
“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead, “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.”
Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.”
“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”
“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to.
You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.”
“Excuse me?”
You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left.
“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin,
words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.”
Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words.
You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning.
Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room.
You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door.
When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts.
“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further.
“Can I come in?”
You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you.
“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.”
You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?
“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”
“After everything that happened with Doyle-”
Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.”
Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.”
You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken.
Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold.
“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.”
And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned.
She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too.
Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.
“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.”
Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover.
“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.
She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”
“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?”
She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.”
A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.”
“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?”
Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?”
She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”
Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.
“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.”
“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.
She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?”
“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.
“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you.
You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body.
When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms.
When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.
“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”
You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.”
“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips.
“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known.
She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.”
You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?”
She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.”
“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.
What the fuck had just happened.
Emily Prentiss kissed you.
Emily Prentiss has feelings for you.
You weren’t alone.
You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.
taglist: @aburman03
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#criminal minds#season 12#gn!reader#cm fic#fanfiction#kt writes#angst with a happy ending#history smothers us#not my gif
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Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha
Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️
Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.
He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.
Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.
He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.
Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.
"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"
It wasn't going well.
Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.
All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.
After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.
"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."
While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.
Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.
"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."
"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."
"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.
The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"
"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.
"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.
"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."
Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.
A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."
Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"
"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.
Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."
"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"
Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"
"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."
Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"
Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."
"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."
Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.
He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.
"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."
"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."
Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"
"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."
How romantic.
"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.
Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.
"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."
Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."
Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."
He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.
"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."
He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.
Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.
"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.
He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.
Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.
It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-
Wait a minute.
Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.
"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"
"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"
"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"
"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"
"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"
"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.
"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"
"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."
"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.
"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."
"But what about you?"
"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.
Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"
"You're welcome!"
"It was a pleasure lad!"
Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.
He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.
___________________________________________________________
Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.
When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.
His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.
It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.
If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.
It's a bone-chilling thought.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#The Summoned demon#Part 3#Danny accidentally making himself look worse#Harold and Mary speak about Danny for years after#They are not aware the “cult” Danny was running from was sweet little Bruce and his kin#Ghost culture#misunderstandings
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the camping trip was the first time for a lot of things. in all honesty i should've seen it coming, even that early on, but i've always been a little slow on the uptake.
i know now, with the benefit of hindsight, that you spilling wine on my jeans was a set up. clearly no amount of caution on my part was going to slow you down for long; you were going to get what you wanted one way or another. apologies abound, followed by enthusiastic blotting with napkins and paper towels—how convenient for you that the spill was all over my groin—to little effect. the thoroughly ruined wranglers were set to dry alongside a promise for replacements, and you slyly suggested that i simply sleep in my boxers. it was getting to be that time anyway, the fire was low and i was tired, so i didn't think anything of it.
i was expecting a comfy night of snuggling and stargazing—that's what the suspension tent had been bought for, of course—but you had different plans. no time was wasted by your hands, feeling me up just as soon as you changed the spotify playlist. my neck had been a bit of a focus for you in those days, and you had gotten plenty of milage out of it thus far. with how sensitive it is, it was the fastest route you had to the noises you really liked. with your arm wrapped around from behind your fingers scouted my jaw, tracing out all the little spots that made me shiver, and you got to work putting hickeys on every one of them.
i'll admit i was too distracted by the attention to notice your free hand trailing downwards slowly, skillfully avoiding all the sensitive spots that might give you away as it crossed my torso. once you arrived on target, though, there was no peeling you away. a single finger, dragged along the contour of my bulge, would be my only notification. if the long, deep gasp hadn't been enough of a green light for you, the throbbing certainly was. a gentle brushing of my thighs was all you needed to splay me out, and you cooed a soft praise in my ear for melting in your hands so effortlessly.
"Good boy, bunny," you said for the first time. i felt you play and tease at the waistband and considered begging. maybe if i had, you'd've obliged me, but i couldn't think straight with you nibbling on my ear. instead you gently massaged me through my boxers, groping lovingly while you laid little kisses on my jaw, and all i could manage was a whine. you growled with excitement, turning the little kisses into little bites and my gasps into moans. you were hammering buttons now, not just pressing them. the growing wet spot was the invitation you needed to slip your hand in. i froze as you gripped me and you huffed with feral content. i twitched and throbbed in your hand, silently aching for you to follow through. i was too lost in it all to realize i needed to warn you before you started.
a pained yelp tore out of my mouth and you immediately let go. my hips recoiled and i instinctively curled up and twisted away from you. i hissed as the hurt radiated, and you pulled me into an embrace to quickly soothe me and figure out what had happened. i mumbled to you between breaths.
it... uh... it doesn't... you can't pull on it like... like that... i'm sorry... i know it's... weird...
you seemed to pause for a moment.
"Can I... see?"
i nodded slowly and turned my body back to you. lifting your head to see what you were doing, you gingerly pulled me out of my boxers. i was too embarrassed to look you in the eye.
you... uh... you don't have to... if it's a problem... i understand if it's not what you're used to...
turning my head by the chin, you met my gaze warmly.
"It's beautiful. You're beautiful."
pretty boys with pretty cocks that just beg to be caged, pumped mercilessly, spat and stepped on <3
#gentle fdom#gentle domination#subby bunny#boy sub#subby boys#subby men#mommy k!nk#1cky mommy#stream of consciousness#letters to nobody#spilled ink
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Mounting Spring Ch. 3
Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!
The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier.
The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them.
He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny.
‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’
But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply.
‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’
“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled.
The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs.
“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away.
“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.”
Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.” Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”
She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.”
Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?”
Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.”
When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.”
‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought.
Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back.
She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.”
“Ride with your legs apart.”
She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely.
“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her.
Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.”
But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny.
“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.”
The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks.
With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort.
The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly.
“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees.
Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off.
“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?”
She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.”
She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.”
‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by.
Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender.
She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.”
He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground.
“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.”
With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest.
Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building.
‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’
Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’
It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression.
‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’
She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone—
“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful.
“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push.
As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints.
“...She was there,” Sasha insisted.
Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?”
Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.”
“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?”
“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.”
Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.”
Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.”
Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…”
But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten.
As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.
As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself.
Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’
He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod.
Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud.
“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step.
She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside.
To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better.
Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.
She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested.
‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.”
‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’
The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here.
“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.”
That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?”
Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his.
“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.”
His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’
With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.”
Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame.
She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall.
“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.”
‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression.
“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.”
She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.”
Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on.
“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life.
'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine.
The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him.
‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’
Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?”
“Yes, sorry.”
Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule.
Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts.
“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror.
‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’
For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything.
Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket.
A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’
“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’
But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.”
Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.”
Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward.
Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here."
She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again.
"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey.
She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.
"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.
"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.”
She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.”
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear.
Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?”
"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant.
Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.
The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.
"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me."
She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient.
"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?"
Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.
"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though.
"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,”
She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided.
“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.”
Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.”
Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’
Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.”
Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.
His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’
The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.”
“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?”
Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.”
He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation. She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…”
The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her.
Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.”
“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance.
“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.”
Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.”
She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.”
Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.”
The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?”
Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.”
"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..."
“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.”
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?"
Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.”
This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.”
‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was.
Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’
A wait filled with mounting anxiety.
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The Queen's Offering
A quill, and ink pot lay before him.
Paper, and a cup of wine rested upon the desk.
And, an head rest in hand as it stared blankly at the piece of paper before them.
Sir Jaune Arcadia, eighth born child, and first born son of, Duke Acheius Arcadia, and Lady Juniper Arcadia was at a loss for words. He stared at quill, and paper as his finger started tapping the table before he cupped his face in his hands before looking leaning his head back, and let a deep sigh escape his lips. He let out a tired sigh as he closed his eyes trying to collect his thoughts, but it was broken when he heard a knock on the door to his assigned room.
Jaune: Enter.
Jaune turned to see, Sienna Khan walk in, cup of wine in hand, and a bottle in the other.
Sienna: Hey.
Jaune: Hi, Sienna.
Sienna: Where were you? We missed you at the impromptu party we had. You saw, Her Majesty, and then you disappeared. Something wrong?
Jaune: I came here... I needed to be alone to collect my thoughts... write a letter to my family... But, nothing... nothings coming out....
Jaune cupped his face in his hand as a tired groan escaped his lips as he looked at the blank sheet of paper before him.
Sienna: Oh, what's wrong?
Jaune: I last saw my family about...? Three...? Yeah, about three years ago. And... and, since then I've been fighting in a war for two, and a half years... I've been leading armies in a war for two, and a half years! I've been painting these lands red with blood as I liberated these lands from a tyrant! And, the last letter I sent to my family was to let them know I made it to, Menagerie... Where the hell do I even start writing...?!
Sienna's eyes widened in surprise as she took a sip from her wine before taking a spot on a fainting couch in the room, before taking another sip of her drink as came up with a possible answer to his question.
Sienna: Well... I suppose a basic letter telling them that you are okay is a good place to begin.
Jaune: That is no doubt a wise place to start... I should also give them a outline of what happened, why I joined the war, how I fought, and eventually won the war. But... how the hell am I supposed to explain to them why I am staying here... maybe forever...
Sienna: Forever?
Sienna finished her drink before sat up in her seat to speak at, Jaune.
Sienna: I thought your plan was to stay, and help stabilize the country, and then return home. You've told me how much you love your home, and your family. Why would you decide not to return to your homeland, and just stay here?
Jaune: ...
Jaune: You remember that siege we did...? The one fort at the port town. What was it called again... Kaitafish?
Sienna: Yes, Kaitafish. We had to surround the fort from land, and see before we could lay siege to it.
Jaune: To prevent people from escaping while we laid siege to the fort, yes. While that is a viable tactic, one I would have ordered myself. But, that wasn't why you made that recommendation now, was it, Sienna?
Sienna: What do you mean...?
Sienna eyed, Jaune cautiously. Jaune could see how the hair on her ears straightened out, a visible sign that she was on end, and ready to attack. Jaune chided himself in his head for making her feel that way, now was not the time for shadow play.
Jaune: My apologies, Sienna. I did not mean to put you on edge with my questionings. I just wanted to know why you were so dead set... on killing the 'Traitor,' Blake... Or, I should say, Blake Belladonna, First Princess of Menagerie.
Sienna's eyes relaxed along with the rest of her body as a tired sigh escaped her lips. She leant back in her seat as she grabbed a bottle of wine she apparently brought along with her, refilling her drink before taking a sip.
Sienna: I see her, Majesty told you that she was her daughter...
Jaune: Indirectly. She mostly told me about how she had a daughter, and that she betrayed her father, and lead him to his death. She was dead to her, Majesty by bond when she betrayed her family, and then she was truly dead by blood when you killed her.
Jaune: But, my question is who was she to you. The way you killed her... that was personal; It was slow, and deliberate. You can say it was for her father, the former king. But, there was venom in your voice that spoke of a personal vendetta. So tell me, Sienna; Who was the kinslayer, Blake to you?
Their eyes remained locked with one another, waiting for the other to buckle under the pressure of the others gaze. But, it was, Sienna's who broke first. A defeated sigh escaped her lips as she took another sip of her wine, an old vintage from the northern vineyards of, Angoor'ka'Baar. A land that will require extensive rebuilding after the, White Fang torched it all.
But as, Sienna mused over these things, her gaze returned to, Jaune as another defeated sigh escaped her lips.
Sienna: It scary how observant you can be, you know that?
Jaune shrugged his shoulders as he too took a drink from his wine.
Jaune: I am the son of a high ranking noble; I was trained to read people expressions, and the words left unspoken since I was a child. I am better at reading woman's expressions than most though. Seven sisters, and all.
Sienna let loose a short burst of laughter, as she took another drink.
Sienna: Haaa... I knew who, Blake was... I met her during one of the, White Fang rallies. I liked this troublesome child that was filled with so much fervour for the faunas cause, and desire to bring forth a brighter future for the faunas. The brat had such a habit of sneaking away from her mother, that his majesty, King Ghira Belladonna... May he rest in peace.
The pair raised their glasses their glasses in a silent salute before taking a drink as, Sienna resumed her tale.
Sienna: He informed me who, Blake was, and asked me to watch over her, and I was honoured to watch over her. I started to see her as the little sister I never had... But, I often find myself wishing I didn't let her become so close to the, White Fang as I did. If she wasn't so intertwined with the, White Fang she would have never met, Adam, and his radicals. And, things... things would have turned out differently.
Jaune: I see... Did you try to keep, Adam away from her?
Sienna nodded her head as she took her drink from her lips.
Sienna: Yes. Well, at least I thought I did. You understand how, Adam operated; He spoke in honeyed words, and idealistic fantasies to poison the minds of the impressionable zealots for his radical cause. Blake, just so happened to be one of those zealots. I never even knew she was under his thumb until I saw her standing next to, Adam while he paraded, Ghira's severed head around like a trophy...
Jaune: Probably told her to keep it a secret around you, not to arouse suspicion. Standard practice for those forming cults, and the likes.
Sienna: Well, I never expected her betrayal, nor any of the other members betrayal. I was the leader of the, White Fang, but was I ever truly the leader for it to fall apart so easily under my reign?
Jaune saw, Sienna's cat ears fall in shame as she mused on her failings. While, Jaune couldn't fully blame her, she was not without fault.
Jaune: It is your fault that the, White Fang fell from under your grasp. But, it was not your fault that it fell. That's more so the parents fault for not teaching the children probably about the events, and reasons behind the, Faunas Wars.
Jaune: Those children weren't taught the truths of the war, and why they were so easily radicalized was because they were tricked into believing that they were owed retribution for something that had already been repaid.
Jaune: And, most were just angry; At their elders, at their parents, or just at the world. It didn't matter what, they were just angry, and wanted the world to pay.
Jaune: Don't blame yourself, Sienna. The fault is just as much as your as it is the, King, and Queen's. But, most of the blame lays upon the traitors severed heads. Learn from this just as the children should have. Learn of the sins of failure of a generation to learn from their past, so their failings are not repeated again.
Sienna: I know... there is much that the people of, Menagerie need to be taught. Both the adults, and the children. But, what does this have to do with you possibly staying her forever?
Jaune watched the drink as he swirled it in his hands before finishing what remained of his drink before pouring himself another.
Jaune: Her Majesty, Queen Kali Asrid Belladonna. The Shadow Queen of the Faunas Kingdom of Menagerie. Has asked me to marry her, and to sire an heir with her...
Sienna: PFFFFFT!?!
Sienna spat out her drink in shock as a harsh coughing fit soon followed as she looked at, Jaune with a wild eye stared as if he had just said the most outrageous thing ever uttered.
Which to be fair, considering what he just said it was no doubt the most outrageous thing he had ever said.
Sienna: (Cough cough!) What the hell did you just say?!
Jaune: The Queen wants me to marry her, become the new king, and sire an heir with her.
Sienna: You did say that...
Sienna: What the hell, Jaune?! Did she seriously make such an offer to you?!
Jaune nodded his head as he took another drink.
Jaune: Yeah... Apparently the politics in this kingdom works differently here than it does back home...
Jaune: Back home the king is the sole leader of the kingdom; He has unconditional control over everything: The kingdoms finances, the military, internal, and external politics, all of this is under the kings control no questions asked. The queens duty is to marry the king, for political gains of some sort, and have children. Either for an heir to succeed the throne, or marry them off for other political marriages to support the kingdom.
Jaune: But, here it is different... Here though, the king is the figure head, he is what people think the nations power lies behind. In reality the king isn't the power behind this nation. The kings duty is lead the armies, protect the people, and fight foreign invaders. Most of the work to run this kingdom is done in the shadows by the queen,
Jaune: The queens duty is to manage the finances, and mange internal, and external politics of the kingdom from the shadows. It is her duty to make sure the kingdom stays afloat through any turmoil it faces. It a miracle that, Queen Belladonna managed to hold this kingdom together while it went though a bloody civil war. Hell, the war could have gone on for far long if she wasn't here. I've read history tomes about civil wars that went on for over a decade! There is a reason why the, Queen of Menagerie is called, 'The Shadow Queen.'
Sienna leaned back in the fainting couch as she pounder his words, and came to the conclusion as to why the, Queen made, Jaune such an offer.
Sienna: You've been behaving like the, King of Menagerie for over two years now already... You've been leading the nation's armies, and became the rallying cry the people united around to overthrow, Adam's tyrannical rule... You are the, King of the Menagerie, but without a crown...
Jaune: Her Majesty said the same thing herself when she made me the offer. Through my actions in the past two three, I have crowned myself king without becoming a king.
Jaune: So, as my reward for freeing her country, and her people... The Queen offered me her hand, and the crown in order to help stabilize the kingdom, and to sire an heir with her...
Sienna: Well... all in all it's a good deal. You planned to stay to help stabilize the country. You will have the power of the crown behind you as you plan to do so. You would just have to marry the, Queen, and sire an heir. This sounds like your typical political marriage you would be forced to do back home. What's stopping you from accepting her offer.
Jaune: Home.
Sienna: Oh... home...
Jaune's one word answer made sense. It explained everything down to the most minute detail as to why, Jaune couldn't just accept the, Queen's offer.
Jaune: I am the only son, and heir to the, Dukedom of House Arcadia. I have a predetermined duty to carry on the legacy, and honour of my family's home. I can not abandon my duty to my family, and house to do the exact same thing here, as I must do for my family back home.
Sienna: But, you have seven sisters; Couldn't one of them bare the responsibility of your house?
Jaune cupped his chin in his hand as his finger ran across the stubble on his face as he contemplated, Sienna's words.
Jaune: It is plausible... One of them would have to get married, and sire a male heir. But, that would only apply if I was dead. Ha... I will write a letter that summarizes the events of the last three years. I will tell them how I joined, and started a civil war to overthrow a tyrant, traitor king. Ha. I can already see my father's confused face just saying that.
Sienna smiled as a smile appeared across, Jaune's face as he started writing his letter.
Jaune: He will probably be interested in how I did that. No doubt he will be curious about what strategy's I implemented to win this war. My father, and I always played wargames to sharpen my mind when it came to military strategy. He always got so annoyed with how good I was at it.
Jaune: I wonder how he will think when he learns I liberated the country, and my offered reward for this deed was the throne, and the current, Queen's hand in marriage...
Jaune: I don't know how my father will react to that. But, my mother will probably be excited at the prospect of having grandchildren... My mother has been trying to get me married for years so she can have grandchildren. She baby crazy...
Sienna: Ha! It appears you have an interesting family, I would like to meet them.
Jaune: I am sure my parents would be quite taken with you. My father would commend you on your strength of character for fighting for your freedom.
Sienna: And, your mother?
Jaune: My mother would probably try, and get me to marry you for faunas grandchildren. She will see you, and just scream at me. "Marry her!" I'd bet money on that.
Sienna: HA! I want to meet her more now! Although, I wouldn't mind becoming your concubine...
Sienna mumbled under her breath as she muttered those last words. Jaune just laughed at the first part as he continued writing his letter to his family.
Sienna: So after you write this letter, what will you do?
Jaune: Her Majesty the Queen has given me the, King's authority to act as needed to rebuild this nation as it's acting king. So the first thing I plan to do after finishing this letter is this...
Jaune placed the quill down before reaching up, and grabbing his drink, and raising it in a toast to, Sienna.
Jaune: Celebrate our victory, and get drunk!
Sienna: Hahaha! I'll drink to that!
The pair downed their drinks, and started to recount their tales of the past three years. The good, the bad, and the ugly. There was much work to be done in the future. But for now, it was time to celebrate.
And, celebrate they would.
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"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [Changbin]
Changbin allows the others to see just what you can do with your mouth.
Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader Warnings: Oral sex, deep throating, one of the others kissing you after you give Changbin head, the members helping you go down on Changbin, Chris,, jerks it,,
Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol.
Word Count: 906
Divider by @enchanthings
"I've never seen someone so eager before."
"She's always excited to have my cock in her throat. Acts like it's some type of dessert or something." Changbin couldn't help his slightly cocky nature at the mention of you being eager to please. Though the comment was made a bit late; You were already taking him into your throat, tongue lathing over the underside as if he were a special lollipop just for you to have.
Hyunjin chuckles from where he sits off to the side in one of their lounge chairs, legs crossed to hide his excitement while he watched. His fingertips prodded at where they touched his cheek, head tipped into his hand and eyes dark as they followed every movement. He'd been completely enamored with the sight of his roommate getting sucked off - a little too much, almost. He let his free hand ghost down his thigh, almost as if teasing himself while refusing to touch anywhere near the tent forming in his pants. "I was talking about you."
A soft hushing sound comes from somewhere else. Jisung had shushed Hyunjin's peeping, eyes wide and body leaned forward as if it would give him a better view. The poor man had never looked so pink in his life, and maybe it was just because he was finally seeing one of his favorite hyungs get worshipped the way Jisung always knew he deserved. Or maybe he wanted to join.. -
His hand laid on Seungmin's knee beside him, who was lounged back on the sofa and trying hard to hold in any laughter that escaped his throat. With one hand previously palming himself through his shorts, it laid still now in his lap as he lets his eyes travel to Jisung beside him. While he was now far less horny than he had been thirty seconds ago, he thought the sight of Jisung so wide-eyed and ogling your form was a bit silly; But truly, he understood why he was so.. infatuated.
The swell of your throat seemed to catch all of their eyes; The way Changbin's cock bulged beneath your skin, proving that the silly small-cock-binnie rumors were just that - rumors.
"Fuck.."
Felix's eyes travel to the man sitting beside him. Perched on the floor and leaning back against the couch just near Seungmin's legs was Chris, veiny hand plastered over his mouth as the other had settled long ago in his lap. The rapid movements of his fist jerking back and forth seemed to give away what he was doing under the fabric of his shorts, even if he'd pulled his legs up to his chest and tried to hide the motion. His eyes darted to Felix who had already looked away, a bit shameful in being caught getting off to Changbin filling your throat.
But Felix was less.. shy. He'd even crawled closer from his previous spot on the floor, kneeling beside you and blushing hard at the sound of your lewd noises up close. He could hear the way Changbin's cock made you gag, spit dripping from your lips and eyes teary as you peered up at your boyfriend. With a hand wrapping into your hair, Felix pushed forward gently and nearly gasped at the sight of your throat filling further.
"Give me a moment, baby." Changbin breathes out so suddenly, gently pressing your shoulder back to pull you off of him. You sit back, willing and happy to oblige, and Jeongin can't help but notice how puffy your lips are. Swollen, wet, dripping.
He's happy to crouch down from where he'd been standing nearby, one hand guiding your head to look at him in your daze. With glazed eyes and parted lips, your head tips so willingly to the youngest that he understands in one fluid moment just why Changbin was so adoring towards you. You were so happy to please; So obedient. "You're doing wonderful," he whispers under his breath, leaning in and letting his lips press to yours. It's brief, shy almost, but he's sure to let his tongue travel over your lower lip and gather the spit that dripped - taking it into his own mouth; Greedy.
Letting his hand fall from your face and allowing you to sit up properly, looking back to your boyfriend, you're met with the sight of not one but two men peering down at you. Changbin's all cheeky smiles, plump cheeks squishing with dimples and even a little giggle as he watches your eyes dart back and forth between the two curiously.
Minho looked.. all too good hovering above you; Just a tad taller than Changbin, eyes dark and hungry, hair falling in his face and head tipped down almost condescendingly without any words needed. His hands remained tucked in his sweats, the watch secured around his wrist displaying a line that seemed to pulse multiple times each second; Letting him (and everyone around him) know that his heart rate was skyrocketing just by you staring up at him on your knees.
Changbin wrings his hands out in front of his chest, his demeanor becoming a bit bashful as he prepared himself to ask. He'd known Minho was lurking there most of the time - watching, in awe at the sight of your lips around his cock - and just how well you seemed to take him for how much of a rod he's got attached to his hips.
"Think you can take two, baby?"
Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l
#skz imagine#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#changbin x reader#Changbin smut#changbin imagine
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I just wanted to say, thank you for showing me where to get the little models, I've been having so much fun putting these guys together the past two days
Sorry for the quality of the photo
Shockwaves! I found the Blokees models purely by accident, but I love how tiny and posable they are. I ended up moving my Flame Toys Megs to my plant shelf just to make more room for these guys
Gravity Pt 6
IDW Optimus x Reader
• “Why Earth?” Turning away from his work at the soft question, he finds you sitting cross legged nearby watching him with a little frown. Yours been quiet so long, he’s assumed you were resting. At his questioning look, you roll your hand in a vague little gesture. “Why did you all come here? Why Earth?”
• Servos flexing slightly, he leans his forearms against the desk. Almost looming over you, but you don’t lean away. Just arching your eyebrows at him, because it’s been bothering you for a while now. Surely there were other worlds closer to his world, to Cybertron. So why here? “In the archives, there were ancient records of worlds the Primes had visited during the expansion before the war with the Quintessons. Of worlds that had been seeded with energon or interacted with,” he says. The words bringing up more questions than answers. Quintessons? Other Primes? Only energon rings a bell, because that’s the stuff he lives on, but seeded?
• Your expression twists and he knows he should explain it all. That he owes it to you after trapping you with him, but the past has only ever wounded him. Dredging it up always brings up the choices and mistakes he’d made. The things he can’t undo, but wishes he could because something small might have led them all down a different path, a brighter one if he’d only been better, stronger.
• “You came here for the energon,” you hazard. He’s volunteered so little of his past, only letting things slip occasionally. Like that his Autobots are at war, that they’d had to flee their world and that their enemies had followed. The details, though? Like why they’d left Cybertron or even what the war was over? Those things he doesn’t seem ready to talk about so you haven’t pushed.
• “We had no way of knowing about your species. You didn’t exist when this world was seeded as a potential colony.” Reaching out, he crooks a servo not really expecting for you to lay a hand on him and let him gently pull you to your feet. “I wouldn’t have led the Decepticons here if I’d known.” And that’s his guilt to carry from now on. Another failure that might cost so much, another sin weighing on his spark, because this world might not survive their war. You might not.
• “You guys were starving, right?” You ask, hand lingering on his servo as he inclines his head. “You were trying to save who you could, I get that.” It’s not fair or right, but you do understand. From what you can gather from the things he doesn’t want to say, things were pretty desperate. He was desperate. And to be responsible for the survival of your people, what would you have done in his place? You’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be nearly as honorable as he is, that you’d do anything regardless of the cost, because you’re not good like he is.
• Spark warming at your soft words, it’s that you understand that makes him curl his servo about you. How can you not blame him for bringing his war to your home? Not hate him or at least resent him? Your little palm slides against his servo like you’re trying to comfort him, worrying over him. It’s a weight from him that you don’t despise him even though he knows that this and what will follow will be his fault. For now he just wants to feel your hand on him and pretend that this one time, his decisions won’t cost him what little he has right now in this moment. Won’t cost you, because you give him something to look forward to every day. Something beyond duty or responsibility, just enjoying your company, the sound of your voice. The soft touch of a hand reaching out to him to break his loneliness.
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the brink of eternity pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: You arrive in New Asgard to its citizens rebuilding from the wreckage brought on by the god butcher's attack
Pairing: Loki x Sorceress!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warning/s: language (like 2 cuss words…still not sorry, Rogers); canon-divergent up the damn wazoo; mentions of major character deaths; mention of injuries; allusions to cancer; my still rusty af writing [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: assumed unrequited love; Reader is a magic-wielding Avenger that trained in Kamar Taj after the events of Endgame
It had been a while since you went to visit the town that was once known as Tonsberg, but even when Thor in his tragedy-driven downward spiral and Val were surrounded by wood and bricks and cobblestone still waiting to be put together and turned into a new home for the thousands of now homeless Asgardians, it didn't look this…desolate.
Charred wooden planks were dumped onto the middle of the street along with other torn and shredded belongings from the affected homes. The citizens, their soot-covered faces a mix of distraught and exhausted, gave you barely a passing glance even as they clocked your clean clothes, bag slung over your shoulder.
From what stories Thor and Loki shared before, Asgardians were notorious gossips. They seemed to always find a way to whisper amongst themselves when something intrigued them even in the slightest, no matter the circumstance.
Almost always, it seemed, as today felt like the exception to that rule. Their gazes were fixed to the ground, the eerie quiet buzzing of the town comprised of sniffles and shaky breaths. Sounds you were achingly familiar with, hearing them all around you when half the world turned to dust just over half a decade ago.
Sounds of people frantically trying to get hold of their families on the phone, bracing and fearing for the worst.
"Y/N?" Val's voice pierced through the quiet, all heads turning toward her and the whispering intrigue finally starting amongst the villagers.
Our King knows this stranger, they said. You paid them no mind as you walked toward her and let the warrior king pull you into an embrace. When her wince at the contact hit your ears, you grasped at her shoulders, looking her over frantically.
"What happened?"
"You know how it is, my friend. Stab wound, kidney puncture, same old song and --"
"Stab wound?!" you raised your voice to a near shriek, even more panicked over her nonchalant delivery. "Val, what. Happened."
"God killer," she sighed. "Well, he prefers to call himself a god butcher, wields the Necrosword hellbent on making sure that the gods no longer walk this or any other realm." She motioned toward the distraught citizens. "He took the children to lure Thor to him because he needed to summon the Bifrost. Poor oaf's there now all alone trying to rescue them."
"Wait where's there?"
"Thor has gone to the Gates of Eternity. The Bifrost is the key to unlock them and if he does, well…" She sliced her finger along her throat. "Goodbye, gods. Much as I wish to be there to aid him, he's quite determined to have me and Jane rest."
"Hold on, Jane's here? Where is she?"
Val pointed towards the hospital, already walking towards it. "We've much to catch up on, little witchy." Just as she looped her arm through yours, there was a loud bang that came from the hospital, and you saw a blonde woman dressed like Thor flying up into the sky on the back of Warsong with Mjolnir in hand. "Oh no…"
"Is that--?"
"Jane? Yes." Your heart caught in your throat as you saw the tears forming in the warrior's eyes as she told you of Jane's diagnosis. How Mjolnir grants her health and vitality when she wields the hammer, but at the cost of her mortality. "She's gone to fight alongside Thor. Quite certainly to die in battle, too."
Every thought in your head screamed the same thing. "I have to stop her. I've gotta get to Eternity."
After reassuring her that you had sufficient enough means and magic to find your way, Val told you where to find the gates.
At the center of the universe, she said. But that it might be a more accurate shot for the sling ring you had on hand if you focused on Thor instead.
Right before you began to conjure the portal to bring you to your friend, the weakened warrior held your forearm firmly. Desperately. "Please don't die," she pled faintly, already misty eyed just saying the words. "Beat Gorr to Eternity, and keep him from making his wish."
Stepping through the circular glowing portal brought you to an elaborate temple made of what seemed like some celestial-grade stone. The entire place was aglow with lightning striking from multiple places at once, and in front of you was Stormbreaker summoning the Bifrost, seeming to power up a portal to what you could only guess was the Eternity that Val mentioned.
A visibly weakened Jane summoned a lightning strike that hit Gorr's weapon dead on, crumbling what remained of the sword into dust right before she began to collapse to the ground. You took the god butcher's slow triumphant walk to the gate as your cue.
"And who might you be?" he said, pausing to look you head to toe, assessing your power. "You are no god, but you're not entirely mortal, either."
"Hello, Gorr," you said with a sly grin, grabbing a hold of him and throwing him yards away from the gate with your magic. "Goodbye, Gorr."
"Y/N?" you heard Thor weakly mumble your name, relieved when he saw you walking backwards toward the blindingly glowing archway that opened up.
The last thing you heard before you all were transported to a vast white expanse was Gorr's defeated outcry of "Noooo!"
"Make your wish, sorceress," a voice spoke in your mind. When you turned to face the source, all you saw was a skyscraper of a silhouette…consisting of an endless sea of galaxies and stars. "Whatever you desire can and shall be so. Name it. And it shall be yours."
Those words brought you to your knees, the gravity of your situation weighing down on you like a cartoon anvil just dead dropped onto your shoulders. Agonizing memories of the loss and heartache you'd experienced and witnessed in the last few years alone, all the grief you kept bottled up inside, coming at you all at once.
From coming back to the Compound after the Time Heist, only to discover that you were all one Avenger short. Finding out that Nat sacrificed herself so the rest of you could have the Soul Stone.
To the loss of Tony and having to be there to hold Morgan as she cried and thrashed, calling out for her father after the defeat of Thanos and his army. And the loss of Steve shortly after that, realizing the super soldier chose to stay in the past and resume what he believed should have been his life with Peggy Carter. Then Bucky's subsequent pulling away from the team after that.
Losing Wanda, and the look on her face when you stood against her during the fight at Kamar Taj. Only hearing about it in the hours following the wreckage of the temple, and Wong's return, that your friend had perished by her own hand in Wundagore. That in her final moments, she was all alone, believing that this was the only way to ensure the safety of this and all other universes from the dark magic she held.
And then there was the loss that started it all for you, the one that had you slowly but steadily pulling away since the fight at Wakanda. Loki. Seeing his brother come in to the battlefield fueled by rage, and hearing his voice devoid of any strength as he told you about the god of mischief's fate when Thanos seized their ship to relieve them of the Tesseract.
All those words that you held back on saying for fear of having them thrown back in your face with a derisive laugh…they felt like lead in the back of your throat as soon as Thor had told you the news. And you beat yourself up for being so scared and childish to hide it all away like a schoolgirl with a crush. The loss of him, even though he wasn't yours to lose, numbed you. And you swore to never love again.
Love only ever got you hurt.
But looking back at the blond Asgardian, holding the frail body of his love in his arms…you knew that he wouldn't survive if he had to suffer another great loss. If he had to lose Jane. You knew that there were people that you cared about back on Earth that were still grieving and picking up the pieces of their lives.
And you had the opportunity to relieve them of that grief. To spare them the numbness that that same loss had dealt you.
"Look in my heart," you whispered to the entity. "You know what I want."
"It shall be yours, sorceress. Live well," were the last words you heard before Jane's sharp inhale. Like her lungs were near empty and she was gulping in air.
When you looked back at them, she'd visibly regained color, near identical smiles of wonder and relief on her and Thor's faces. Even from this far away, you could sense it. Whatever sickness plagued her body was gone. Every trace of it.
"You--?" Thor asked, pointing a finger toward you as you approached them.
"Guess so," you answered him with a little shrug. "How you feeling, Doctor Foster?"
"Like I could wrestle a horse," she told you with a big grin. "Thank you."
Before you could conjure up another portal to bring you all home, more voices emerged from behind the entity.
"Y/N?"
"Sparky?"
"Lady Y/N?"
Natasha. Tony. Heimdall.
"My friend, what did you wish for?"
You looked back at the bewildered god, grasping his best friend's shoulders and trying to adjust to the new reality that he had returned. "I honestly don't know, I just said that Eternity should know what I want and--"
"Brother?"
The air left your lungs at the sound of the new voice. The voice you'd missed hearing for the better part of the last decade. Your heart beat erratically in your chest watching Loki emerge from behind Eternity and walk toward all of you, already holding his hands up in caution upon seeing Nat and Tony. "I swear I have no intention of harming--"
"We know, Reindeer Games," Stark said, holding his hand out toward the god. "Thor told us all about what you did. You're alright by my book as long as you don't try and raise another ugly ass alien army to take over the world."
Before he could say anything in return, Thor pulled his brother into a tight embrace. "It's good to see you, too, Brother," he said in a strained voice. "But how am I here?"
"Y/N reached Eternity. And she made a wish," Jane answered him, also holding her hands up. "No slaps this time, I promise."
"Y/N?" he said your name breathlessly, nudging his brother out of the way and looking around until his eyes met yours. You did your best not to fidget or pick at your clothes as he made his way over to you, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat when he framed your face with his hands.
"Hiya, Mischief," you mumbled, seeing Tony and Nat give each other a look from the corner of your eye as they slowly backed away, choosing instead to reunite and get up to speed with the other Asgardian.
"This was your doing?" The way his thumbs stroked at your cheeks had you unable to form words, only managing a meek little nod.
"Not bad for a stupid little--" The rest of your words died in a squeak at the back of your throat, cut off by the god pressing his lips to yours.
"Sweet precious mortal," he sighed against your lips. "There are many words I could use to describe you, and 'stupid' will never be one of them."
Before he could kiss you again, you heard multiple people clear their throats, your friends looking at the two of you with knowing and teasing smirks. "Perhaps we should make our way home first, Brother?"
Loki brushed the tip of his nose against yours before threading his fingers between yours, jutting his chin at the lightning bolt in his brother's hand. "Zeus?"
"Long story," he answered simply.
"He stabbed Zeus and stole it," Jane said in a stage whisper.
"Perhaps not such a long story after all," Thor said, chuckling as he held on to his girlfriend's hand, the astrophysicist summoning Mjolnir with her other hand.
"That's a long story even I don't know yet," you told Loki when he squeezed your hand lightly and tilted his head at the couple, Jane now sporting that near-identical armor and crimson cape that the blond god wore.
"Everybody hold on," Thor called out to you all, a large ball made of yellow lightning materializing all around you and spinning at a furiously fast pace. You blinked once, and when you opened your eyes again, you were in the same ruins of New Asgard that you walked through just earlier today.
Val was already there walking toward you all with a relieved look on her face that morphed into confusion when she saw Tony…and then Loki. "I take it Y/N beat the butcher to Eternity?" You all just nodded at her. "Well then, welcome back, all of you." Then she pulled Jane into a hug, playfully pushing Thor away. "I'm so glad you're alive." The king looked up, eyes meeting yours before she mouthing the words, 'Thank you.'
"We were lucky Y/N got there when she did," Thor told her. "What did bring you to New Asgard, my friend? It has been ages since last we spoke."
"I lost Wanda," you sighed, a lump forming in your throat again just saying the words. "And losing her made me realize I've been a shit friend to--well, everyone. Ever since…" You caught yourself before the rest of that sentence came out.
Ever since you told me Loki died, you finished quietly in your mind.
"Ever since Wakanda…the snap…" you told them out loud. You tried to shrug it all off, only to realize that Loki still held your hand in his. "Speaking of that stupid purple ballsacked chin little bitch…I should be getting you two back to New York," you addressed Tony and Nat. "There's at least three people whose worlds are about to turn for the better knowing you're back."
A/N: Okay so I fully intended to lay low and take my time normalizing after the complete insanity that October dealt me on a personal level, but then I rewatched Love and Thunder because I was in need of a comfort watch and I said "I don't like that ending, not one bit…lemme fix it". And slowly but surely the writer brain started its lil awkward shuffle back into the chat 😅
RTC and 'the final Lady Sharpe' are still at the top of the todo pile, and I'm still scared to touch them but I might work at it bit by bit, we'll see. And also this will have a part 2…because yes they might have kissed and they're holding hands but dammit they need to talk 🫠
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki laufeyson fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfic#muddyorbs writes
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nicholas chavez x ex!reader
a/n: no disrespect to either of them or relationship all of this is just fiction!
Nicholas and y/n had a special connection when they dated. Their time together was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and memorable moments. However, as life moved on, they drifted apart, and Nicholas eventually found himself in a new relationship with a girl named Victoria.
Victoria is wonderful—kind, smart, and everything Nicholas could ask for in a girlfriend. Yet, despite his happiness with her, y/n is always in the back of his mind. He often finds himself reminiscing about the times he spent with y/n, the unique bond they shared, and the way she understood him like no one else.
Even though Nicholas tries to focus on his present with Victoria, there are moments when a song, a place, or a random memory brings y/n back to the forefront of his thoughts. He wonders how she's doing, if she thinks about him too, and whether their paths will cross again. This lingering presence of y/n in his mind makes him question if he ever truly moved on, or if a part of him will always belong to her.
Nicholas and Victoria were out for a casual stroll one Saturday afternoon when they unexpectedly ran into y/n. The encounter took Nicholas by surprise, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Y/n looked as beautiful and confident as ever, and seeing her brought a rush of memories flooding back.
"Hey, y/n. It's been a while. How have you been?" Nicholas asked, trying to keep his composure.
"I've been good. Just busy with work and everything. How about you?" Y/n replied with a warm smile.
"I've been alright. This is Victoria, by the way. Victoria, this is y/n," Nicholas introduced them, his voice slightly shaky.
"Nice to meet you, y/n!" Victoria said cheerfully.
"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. So, what have you been up to, Nicholas?" Y/n asked, her eyes lingering on him.
"Oh, you know, just the usual. Work's been keeping me busy. It's really good to see you, though," Nicholas responded, feeling a mix of emotions.
"Yeah, it's good to see you too. You look well," y/n said, her smile softening.
"Thanks. You too," Nicholas managed to say, his mind racing.
Victoria, sensing the tension, chimed in, "We should catch up sometime, all of us. It would be fun."
"Sure, that sounds nice," y/n agreed. "Well, I should get going. It was great running into you both."
"Yeah, take care, y/n," Nicholas said, watching her walk away.
As y/n disappeared into the crowd, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He realized that his feelings for her were still very much alive, leaving him deep in thought about what to do next.
Victoria and Nicholas had been having a wonderful evening at home when the topic of y/n came up. It started innocently enough, with Nicholas mentioning their recent encounter.
"You know, it was really nice seeing y/n the other day," Nicholas said, trying to keep his tone casual.
Victoria's expression changed slightly. "Yeah, it was. But, Nicholas, I've noticed you talk about her a lot lately."
Nicholas looked puzzled. "What do you mean? She's just an old friend."
"Is she really just an old friend?" Victoria asked, her voice growing more tense. "Because it feels like there's more to it."
Nicholas sighed. "Victoria, you're overthinking this. Y/n and I have history, but that's all in the past. You're the one I'm with now."
Victoria shook her head. "I don't know, Nicholas. It just feels like there's something unresolved between you two. And it bothers me."
Nicholas's frustration began to show. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't erase my past. Y/n is a part of it, but she doesn't have to be a threat to us."
"I just need to know that you're fully committed to us," Victoria said, her eyes pleading.
"I am committed to us," Nicholas said firmly. "But I can't change the fact that y/n was a big part of my life. You have to trust me."
Victoria looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's hard to trust when I see how you look at her."
Nicholas softened, stepping closer to her. "Victoria, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure. But you have to believe me when I say that Lauren is just a friend now."
Victoria nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Okay, Nicholas. I believe you. But let's not talk about y/n anymore. Let's focus on us."
"Agreed," Nicholas said, pulling her into a hug. "Let's focus on us."
As they held each other, Nicholas hoped that this would be the end of the tension between them. He knew he had to prove his commitment to Victoria and make sure she felt secure in their relationship.
Nicholas and Victoria were at the local bar when they unexpectedly bumped into y/n again. It was a moment of surprise for all three, but Victoria's reaction was different. As she watched Nicholas and y/n exchange warm smiles and familiar glances, something clicked in her mind. She realized that the connection between Nicholas and y/n was deeper than she had ever imagined. It was in that instant that Victoria understood the true nature of their bond, and a mix of emotions washed over her, leaving her both intrigued and contemplative about what this meant for their future.
Nicholas and Victoria were sitting in their living room when the tension that had been building up finally reached a boiling point. The topic of y/n had come up once again, and it was clear that Victoria was not happy about it.
"Nicholas, I can't believe you're still hung up on her," Victoria said, frustration evident in her voice. "Every time we run into y/n, you act like she's the only person in the room."
Nicholas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Victoria, it's not like that. Y/n and I have a history, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. We're just friends now."
"Friends? Really?" Victoria shot back. "Because it sure doesn't seem that way. You get this look in your eyes whenever she's around, like you're remembering something more than just a friendship."
"That's not fair," Nicholas replied, his voice rising. "I can't control how I feel. But I'm with you now, and that's what matters."
"But is it really?" Victoria asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Because it feels like I'm always competing with her ghost. I need to know that you're fully here with me, not just physically but emotionally too."
Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Victoria, I care about you a lot. I don't want you to feel like you're second to anyone. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way."
Victoria looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "I just need to know that I can trust you, Nicholas. That you're not going to run back to her the moment things get tough between us."
"I promise you, Victoria," Nicholas said, taking her hand. "I'm committed to us. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."
As they sat there, holding each other's hands, they both realized that this was a turning point in their relationship. They had to work through these issues if they wanted to move forward together.
Nicholas had been feeling increasingly guilty about his relationship with Victoria. He knew deep down that he couldn't continue pretending everything was fine. One evening, he finally mustered the courage to talk to her.
"Victoria, we need to talk," Nicholas began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to me. I still have feelings for y/n, and it's not right to lead you on."
Victoria looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. "I knew this was coming, Nicholas. I just hoped things would change."
"I'm so sorry," Nicholas said, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I can't do that right now."
After the difficult conversation, Nicholas felt a weight lift off his shoulders, but he was also filled with a sense of loss. He decided to reach out to y/n, needing someone to talk to.
"Y/n, I ended things with Victoria," he confessed over the phone. "I couldn't keep pretending. But now, I feel so lost."
Y/n’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nicholas, I still love you, but we can't be together. Not right now. You need to figure things out for yourself first."
Nicholas sighed, feeling the sting of her words. "I understand, y/n. I just needed to hear your voice."
They both knew that this was a time for healing and self-discovery. Even though they couldn't be together, their connection remained a source of comfort and strength for Nicholas.
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