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milfswriter · 1 year ago

Note

YOU ASKED FOR REQUESTS SO I HAVE ONEEEE

rhea comes backstage with a bunch of adrenaline and decides she wants to go back to the hotel to celebrate 🤭 (maybe sprinkle some overstim and handcuffs like she used for nxt)

CUFFS

Rhea Ripley x Reader Summary: Rhea retains her title against four other women, surely there has to be a celebration? Notes and warnings: handcuffs, overstim (slightly??), cunnilingus, strap on, daddy kink, Rhea's a little unhinged?, I have this weird creepy fascination with Rhea's tongue piercing and I'm not sorry, Idk what else. I think I lost my writing charm y'all so bear with me :(

@rhea-ripley these gifs aren’t helping man..🥵

You had the biggest smile on your face as you saw rhea's riptide landing on the three other women that were ready to do anything to even get a look at rhea's title.

Backstage was pretty busy, only few crew members were actually tuning in instead of running around to make sure nothing goes wrong. But you? oh you were staring at the screen like your life depended on it. There was no way any of them would kick out of that even if they weren't on the receiving end of the riptide.

and you were right, as the ref counted to three and her theme hit, you jumped with a scream. Rhea has been..worried, to say the least the past few days, though she tried keeping the 'brutal and fearless' facade but you saw right through her.

The possibility of her losing the title she'd been working for the past three years without even getting pinned ate her up.

Your smile widened as you saw her walking in after the four women who were glaring at you, her black latex gear adding to her absolute sexiness. When your eyes met, you saw your Demi, not Rhea..not Mami (well, maybe that..)..Demi.

she walked up to you, stopping when you met her halfway with a hard kiss to her mouth, almost dropping her title at the sudden action. "hey, champ" you whispered.

"I did it.." she whispered back, hugging her title to her chest and you nodded, "and I wanna celebrate" she bit your ear before walking past you to the showers of the arena.

----

Rhea could barely let go of you long enough to swipe the keycard on the hotel room door, pulling you back into a kiss as soon as she saw the green light indicating the door was opened and pushed you inside.

"f..fuck, Rhea.." you groaned, taking a fistful of her dark moist hair as she buried her face into your neck, her t-shirt hugging her biceps so perfectly you kept squeezing on them.

you were pushed on the cold, comfy hotel bed and closed your eyes, eliciting a tutt from your girlfriend, "don't fall asleep on me now, i thought you wanted to celebrate with me" she coaxed.

Your eyes opened and you spread your legs, inviting her between them with a hum as she still stood next to the bed, "I do..i was having a moment" you grinned.

Both of your suitcases were long forgotten at the door even as you heard the clank of both metal handles as they fell to the floor from their weight and flinched from the sudden sound, making her laugh.

Rhea's hands were all over you like she hadn't seen you in days. She lifted your 'SHE'S MY MAMI' t-shirt with a grin, sticking out her tongue and taking a long swipe from your lower belly to the hem of your bra, husking out a chuckle at the shiver of your body from her tongue piercing tickling your skin.

“S..stop..teasing!” You groaned as she reached your neck, husking out another chuckle in your ear, one of her hands landing next to your head while the other effortlessly unbuttoned your jeans, unzipping them ever so slowly while those piercing eyes

"What is it, bunny? thought you liked my piercing..at least that's what you said the last time it was in your pu-"

"okay, okay.." a huff escaped your mouth, cupping her face as she stared at you with that sly grin of hers, "i get it.." you whispered.

she shook her head, leaning down to kiss you almost too softly, "do you?" her kisses went back to your neck, "hm?"

you said nothing, almost too hazed as her kisses worked you to oblivion even though you weren't even 10 minutes in. She has that effect on you, "I don't think you do" you heard before your jeans were swiftly pulled off your legs, leaving you in your panties shivering from the cold.

She dangled your jeans in front of you before throwing it behind her and finally raising your right leg to get more view of your absolutely soaked panties as you perked up on your elbows with a grin as she ran her fingers up and down.

You were getting a bit cocky as she got on her knees in front of the bed, but all that went out the window she took a long stripe with her tongue through your panties, her tongue piercing making you shiver as it touched you in all the right ways. "oh~" you heard as you threw your head back.

As you looked at her, you saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head, licking her lips. and the fact that she still hadn't taken off her makeup from the PPV makes her look even more feral.

her hands swiftly ripped apart the fabric that stood between her and your pussy, that she's convinced was calling out for her with how wet you were.

she took another stripe and groaned one more time before taking your clit into her mouth, you couldn't remember ever being this sensitive because of her tongue piercing, but when she stuck her tongue out to show off your slick coating it, you discovered she changed the ball of her piercing to this metal, bigger one.

"huh.." you huffed out, of course she did. "you taste so good, princess" she groaned, and before you knew it, her nose was pushing onto your clit while her tongue was all the way between your pussy lips.

"oh god!" you threw your head back as her fingers scratched down your inner thighs, moaning against you.

your hands searched for something to grab before landing on her head and pulling on her hair, her tongue exploring your insides while you writhed under her.

Your legs were already shaking and wrapped around her neck, trapping her in as her tongue mercilessly ate you out.

“God I’m so close..” you whimpered, almost pulling out Rhea’s hair, who didn’t seem to mind at all and even looked up at you with a smirk. It was almost embarrassing how close you actually were considering the two of you had just gotten started

her smudged purple eyeshadow glistened as she kept staring at you, eating you out like her life depended on it. "can feel you holding back..let go, baby" she mumbled before drilling her tongue back into you. One swipe of her thumb over your clit sent you over to cloud nine with a scream and your legs wrapped around her head even tighter, making her tap your thigh gently so she could breathe.

"S..sorry" you let out with a chuckle and she grinned, crawling upwards to kiss you and you hummed at your own taste on her lips, "don't you worry, baby" she husked out.

It wasn't even a minute later when you heard the clanking of metal and gasped as you looked at her, "Rhea, don't you dar- oh!" you were cut off by her flipping you on your belly so effortlessly.

Before you could catch your breath, your arms were joined behind your back and you felt the cold metal of the handcuffs wrapping around your wrists, “what the fuck?!” You yelled, barely able to move.

Both of Rhea’s hand landed on your cheeks, “shut up” she growled, “now you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock” you heard her zipper being undone, you should’ve known. Of course she was packing.

You turned your head with a grunt to look at her, seeing her lubing up the familiar black strap of her before spreading the rest of the lube in her hand on your pussy, inserting two fingers to make sure you’re all nice and ready before pushing her tip into you.

“Oh love, no amount of lube would be enough huh? You’re just so tight” she groaned, continuing to push in until her thighs made contact with your ass.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt her girthy strap filling you up, the ache of the handcuffs quickly forgotten as Rhea took hold of your wrists for balance before starting to pound into you in inhumane speed.

“D..don’t you lose that key, damn it!!” You yelled, making her thrust even harder to shut you up, “g..god..d..daddy” you began to slur your words.

She hummed in satisfaction, “that’s it..I don’t wanna hear anything other than ‘daddy’ as you come over and over again on my cock you hear me?” She growled, giving one particularly hard thrust to make sure you got it.

“Y…yeah..yes d..daddy” you gasped, you were still sensitive from your first orgasm yet she’s working you up so good your vision blurred.

Her breaths began to falter she continued pounding into you, “g..good..good girl” she whispered, the base of the strap touching her clit in all the right ways, “y..yeah..good girl”

Suddenly, her weight was entirely on top of you, not able to stay upright anymore. Her hips continued moving in and out and you were even closer to coming now that you could fear her lips and breath on your neck.

With one last thrust your legs shook under her as you gripped her hands that were still gripping your wrists from behind your back, the chain of the cuffs rattling around “g..god damn it!!” You yelled, your head falling on the bed as your orgasm washed over you.

Rhea kept going however, chasing her own orgasm that was ever so deliciously close. “R..Rhea..c..can’t” you whined but she shushed you.

“C..come on now, bunny..im so close..come with me. One more time, baby”

----

"Where did you even get those?" you grumbled, rubbing your wrists after Rhea uncuffed you.

"stole them from under the ring" she laughed, "you're lucky they had the keys attached to them cause I would've used them anyway" she said with a slap to your ass before getting up to fetch you some water.

This woman…

Taglist;

@ara-a-bird @jungwoospeach @neganwifey25-blog @yourmisosoup @cameronsdruthers @dementedtrashcat @1c4ntg3ty0u0ffmym1nd @sweety-jamieluvss @rebecca-quin @mega-met-44 @babybatlover @potatohead20 @charlieg1rl @marcelineormars

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley wwe

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sc0tters · 7 months ago

Text

Dreams Awakened | Jack Hughes

summary: when Jack gets caught in the midst of your dreams, it’s only fair he helps you.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving!), swearing.

word count: 2.67k

authors note: this was meant to be the soft sex for jacks birthday (before we get to something real big) but I got busy and sprained my ankle so this is shorter than I wanted but here it is and better late than ever really!

All he wanted was you.

Before Jack didn’t mind when the team was sent on their long roadtrips, he never understood why it mattered so much to the married players as they’d complain. Jack consistently enjoyed the time away from the city as it felt like a break.

But now it all changed for him once he met you, the girl next door all bright eyed for her change of scenery which was meant to be a big fuck you to your past friends who thought you couldn’t do it. Your new beginnings quickly led to you ending up in Jacks bed a few times before you both agreed to make it official and within six months of that when your lease was set to soon expire, Jack offered up a permanent place at his.

From that moment on he knew all too well why his teammates hated those long roadies, being away from you for that long felt like torture. And now after doing it for two and a half years he swore it never got easier, yet the arrivals home seemed to get more sweet. This time they came back directly after the Dallas game and even as the clock on his phone showed 02:34 Jack still hoped that you were awake so he could talk to you.

It wasn’t that he had anything on his mind, he just missed the way he could see you in person. But that idea was quickly tarnished when he noticed that all but the light in your bedroom was off. The crack under the door revealed the glow of the bulb, making the boy drop his bag in excitement.

Even as he let the door burst open you didn’t move a muscle, in fact, you had fallen asleep on his side clutching his pillow as you lay with your ass in the air and only his shirt and a pair of panties on. He couldn’t help but crack a grin at the sight, you looked perfect as you lay there and Jack was ready to push his desires away. You knew all too well about how he wanted to fuck his girl in her sleep once just to feel it, and you gave him the green light to do it whenever he wanted because you figured it’d be a good time for you.

With your blessings he still found himself reaching for your blanket as he felt sick. You were meant to be his sweet girl, not someone he could just use like a toy to fulfil his needs “Jack.” Your moan made him freeze with a blanket in his arms ready to cover you up.

You wriggled your hips and as your eyes were still shut. He quickly realised that you were in the midst of a wet dream as your fingers gripped at the sheet beneath you.

Jack felt his jaw soften as his lips turned to a smirk “my horny little girl huh?” He muttered to himself as he ran his fingers over the edge of your panties looking at the table where your vibrator sat.

You always got horny at the ends of his road trips when the phone sex would no longer cut it and you were left imagining what he would do to you. Like him, you hated the long roadtrips because no matter how hard you tried, your fingers were no match for his.

As Jack felt his suit bottoms grow tight against his cock he loosened the button of his shirt “wanna be-good girl.” Your words came out gurgled as your lips formed a pout “fuck baby.” Jack let out a grunt as he let the vibrator sit between his fingers.

The gummy material was something he wasn’t unfamiliar with as the hot pink toy ended up in your relationship as a joke when he said you’d need a friend, and has since never left. He turned it onto the lowest setting looking back to make sure you were still asleep before he pressed it against your clit.

The fabric of your panties were quick to grow soaked at the fact that he had left those on you “ah.” You moaned arching your back further to give him an even better view as his shirt rose up on your body.

It was a sight Jack was never going to get tired of as he made the vibrator’s speed increase “mhm.” You let out a whimper as Jack swore he was now caught when your head went deeper into the pillow, but still you were asleep.

He watched on for another minute before you began to babble on about how you were close “please.” You whined finally making him pull away from you. Even as you were sleeping the pleasure dissipated from between your legs making you pout in disappointment.

Jack smiled at the sight letting his tongue coat his lips in wetness as he placed the vibrator onto the table. He let his hands grace over the waistband of your panties before he stealthily pulled them down. Still you remained sound asleep and now he even had the sight of how wet you were in front of him.

The soft purrs left your lips as he rubbed your ass “can’t believe I always let you go for so long.” He grumbled to himself as he shifted his legs trying to find a comfortable place to be sat in that moment.

He found himself sat on the mattress as he blew cool air against your cunt “mhm.” You mumbled driving your hips closer to him “always such a needy little cunt.” He cooed licking up a stripe against your cunt.

It made you moan as he froze looking up at you “you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” Jack explained as he used his hands to spread your ass cheeks so that he could taste you properly.

The hockey player enjoyed the taste treating you like his last meal as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man “Jack.” Your moans seemed deeper as his tongue sucked at your clit.

Your eyes blinked open adjusting to the light around you “hi pretty girl.” Jack cooed causing your head to lift from the pillow as you looked at him.

He smirked thrusting his fingers into your core as he leaned over you so that he could get to your neck “fuck.” You whimpered feeing his lips nip at your skin “was thinking about you all damn week.” Jack confessed as he kissed your jaw.

You gripped at the sheets beneath you “missed you.” You confessed letting your voice break as you clenched around his fingers “couldn’t get this fucking sight out of my mind.” The hockey player explained as he let his hand slap your ass.

The action made you moan as you jumped feeling his thumb circle your clit “make me cum.” You pleaded wriggling your ass against him “that’s the first fucking thing you ask for when I’m home huh?” Jack laughed as he shook his head increasingly the speed of his fingers as he curled them into the gummy walls of your cunt.

Jack’s cock throbbed as he watched you spread your legs further “honestly think we should put you in my suitcase.” He confessed as he inserted another finger into your cunt “can’t help missing this needy cunt.” The boy added as he sped up his pace, making sure that he got every spot of your walls including your gspot.

He was grateful for the fact that Luke had moved out as your door was now able to be wide open, yet still you kept your hand over your mouth “doll you wanna cum then I better fucking hear ya beg for it.” He grunted feeling his cock grow uncomfortable in his pants “please baby.” You pleaded seeing his eyes stare into yours.

His silence served as a reminder to the fact that you hadn’t done nearly enough to convince him “missed you so much Jacky.” Your eyes filled with tears as your legs began to shake “just wanna make a mess on your fingers so I.” You cut yourself off as you moaned feeling your toes curl.

Jack let his free hand go under your shirt now letting his weight go dangerously close to sitting on top of you “so you what?” He taunted you as he smirked letting you feel the way his lips curved upwards against your skin “can fuck your cock.” That was all enough for him as he swore he could have cum on the spot.

He kissed your ear as your moans echoed in his ears bouncing off of the walls “let me finish ya off then huh princess?” Jack mumbled giving you the green light to cum.

The both of you loved getting the chance to be this close as it felt like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in years “don’t stop Jack.” You begged letting your head drop to the pillow as you clenched around his fingers.

Your eyes screwed shut as white dots scattered over your vision when you got your first proper orgasm in over a week “there we go pretty girl.” He cooed brushing his fingers through your hair as you came down from your high.

A flurry of whimpers flew from your lips as you felt his fingers release from your cunt, causing your release to ooze down your slit “fuck Jacky.” Your words were soft as you let out a cough smiling as you looked up at him.

He was quick to roll you over, letting the space between your legs get taken up by him “missed ya.” Jack confessed as he kissed your lips.

The moment was soft as your hands cupped his cheeks letting your hands rub over his skin “why don’t we get you out of this?” Sure Jack loved the way his clothes looked on you, but in that moment he wanted you in as little as possible.

As cooler air came around you, a whine slipped from your lips as the both of you were now sat up straight “you’re too clothed.” You grumbled making him laugh as he sat back on his feet “think you should help me then.” He joked letting that same smirk come back to his lips as you began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

It was clear you were desperate as his clothes quickly formed a pile on the ground “god I’ve missed this.” Jack groaned ripping open the wrapper to his condom as he watched your eyes light up “seems like you have too.” As he rolled the condom over his cock he couldn’t help but kiss your lips.

You lay back down with a stupid grin lacing your face “think I should go nice and slow-” Jack loved teasing you when you were overly eager “I know you didn’t just wake me up without fucking me.” You grumbled propping yourself up by your elbows.

If this was any other day he would have laughed, but in that moment he just wanted you to ruin you “fucking hell.” You both groaned feeling him bottom you out.

His forehead pressed against yours as he gave you the chance to adjust to his size, always having the same effect on you that he had the first time around “please move.” You whimpered trying to move your hips to create some kind of friction “look at you all needy again.” Jack taunted bringing your legs closer to him as he brought them over his shoulders.

The movement made you squeal feeling Jack peck at your lips. It was what you loved most with him as he found the way to make you feel like you were playfully in love “missed this cunt.” He confessed as he began thrusting his hips as he wanted to feel every inch of you again.

You whimpered in agreement “kept on thinking bout you.” You babbled on as the bed creaked beneath you “wanted your cock so bad.” You clenched around him remembering how needy you felt seeing him get into a few fights on screen.

He let his hand crawl up your skin “don’t think I ever wanna leave you again.” Jack announced as he watched his chain drop to your chin “already told Neeks I’d fucking murder him if he made me leave ya tomorrow.” The boy added as you lifted your lips up to kiss him swearing that this had to be a dream.

His cock continued to push deeper into your gummy walls as you clenched around him “you carry on doing that and I’m not going last.” Jack warned dropping his head to your breasts.

The coil in your stomach tightened as his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud trying to bring forth your second orgasm before he came like an excited teenage boy. His message to himself was always that you had to come first, and that was no different tonight.

You had one hand gripping at your sheets and the other at his hair wanting him to stay there “please don’t stop.” You begged feeling your legs begin to shake.

He brought his lips up looking at you to see you staring back in awe, as the sight of broken saliva trailing from his lips made you squirm “wanna milk your cock.” You whined letting moans echo off of the walls.

It made him throb against your walls “wish I could make a mess.” Both of you weren’t ready for kids but still he couldn’t deny his desires to mark you up like some little whore.

You moaned letting the thought crowed your mind “please baby.” You nodded letting your fingers slide between your bodies to attack your clit.

But Jack was all that much quicker as he slapped your hand away looking back up at you “it’s gonna be me that makes you cum.” He explained with a scoff feeling his jaw tighten “please Jacky.” Your lips were swollen from how you chewed at it and your pupils were blown.

The sight alone was enough to make him nod as he let his fingers strum at your clit like he was playing a guitar “go on baby.” He cooed moving closer to you as skin slapped together when he kissed you.

It was enough to silence your moans as you came feeling the coil snap in your stomach quickly triggering on his orgasm “oh my god.” Your chest heaved as you caught your breath making him laugh “it’s just me princess.” He grinned as you scoffed going to argue with him when he pulled out of you.

Your eyelids grew heavy as he watched you lay on his side of the bed “really did miss you.” Jack confessed as he softly kissed your lips wanting to still feel you.

He watched you grin as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek “you want a bath, shower or bed?” The hockey player asked not wanting to care that it was well beyond a suitable time to be awake anymore.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you gonna put my bath bomb in?” Your voice was soft as he nodded “and those bath salts you like so much.”

After the late night that the two of you had, it was no surprise that all you wanted was to sleep in. Craving Jacks warmth as you were practically falling onto his side edging closer to him.

But that only lasted so long as your eyes stirred open hearing the sound of knocking at your door “baby should I get it?” Jack asked hearing the knocks get louder.

Your groans deterred him from it, ultimately making him laugh “if you even think about it I will murder you Hughes.” You warned pulling him in closer with you.

From the other side of the door stood John and Dawson “why do you think that Nico told us Jack wanted to see us?”

#Jack Hughes imagines #jh86 #jack Hughes smut #Jack Hughes Oneshots #hockey oneshots #hockey imagines #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey smut #jack Hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #amber writes fics

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band--psycho · 2 months ago

Text

Zayne x Reader - Doctor Visits

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Doctors appointments, brief mentions of a blood test, mature themes towards the end

I do intend to write a Part 2 for this

L&DS Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

“Thank you for checking in,” the receptionist at the hospital said with a polite smile, “Dr Zayne will be with you soon”

Your heart dropped at her words.

Dr Zayne?

“I think there must be some mistake?” You stated; trying to understand how you’re seeing Zayne for this appointment when 1) you didn’t book this appointment with him and 2) he was meant to be on holiday; at least that’s what he told you a few days ago when you last spoke to him.

“The doctor you booked to see is unavailable right now,” the receptionist clarified her focus shifting from the screen she’d been staring at for a few moments.

Obviously your unease must’ve been written all over your face because the receptionist followed her own words up with, “If you wish to wait until the doctor you originally booked in to see is available we can reschedule your appointment.”

You wanted to reschedule.

But you knew that you couldn’t.

The Hunters Association had very strict rules on keeping up to date with doctors appointments so that medical records could be kept accurate.

And recently you’d been so busy with missions and studying; that booking the appointment had completely slipped your mind, that was until Tara mentioned it a few days ago.

This was the last day you could have an appointment before you would be overdue on it.

Which although it wasn’t the end of the world, wasn’t exactly an ideal situation.

But neither was having Zayne as your doctor for this.

“It’s fine,” you reluctantly said, moving away from the receptionist's desk and taking a seat in the waiting area.

Zayne was your usual primary physician, he was the one that kept a vigilant eye on your heart condition and made sure that your blood pressure and everything else was okay.

And although this was just a routine doctor's appointment, knowing that Zayne was now going to be asking you private questions and listening to your answers, made you want to run out of the hospital eight that second.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Zayne, you did.

More so than you trusted anyone really.

And you knew that he would remain professional regardless of your answers.

But the truth was you were embarrassed; embarrassed to admit things that you hadn’t shared with anyone.

Things that you certainly didn’t ever think you’d have to admit to Zayne.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts, looking up you saw Yvonne standing in front of you, “Dr Zayne will see you now.”

You nodded briefly, giving her a small smile as you rose to your feet.

It was like your body was on auto-pilot, and you followed Yvonne straight to Zaynes office.

The nurse gave you a small nod, signaling that you could go in, before walking away down the hall.

You took a deep breath; your hand gingerly hovering over the door knob, wondering if you could attempt to make a last minute dash to the exit without anyone seeing.

The opportunity to do so was there, you could go now and no questions would really be asked.

Except Zayne would know that he was meant to see you today…and if you didn’t show up to your appointment, he’d start asking why.

And it would mean that you’d have to reschedule it for another day without knowing when the original doctor you booked in with would be free.

‘The sooner I go in, the sooner it’ll be done’ you thought to yourself, placing your hand on the door handle, pushing the door open and walking into Zaynes office.

“Y/n/n,” Zaynes stoic voice filled your ears, only raising your already heightened anxiety

‘Just breathe,’ you thought to yourself, turning to look at the doctor sitting behind a desk.

“Please have a seat,” Zayne continued, extending his hand slightly towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

You let out a shallow breath, attempting to compose yourself as you sat down in the chair opposite him.

“I apologise about that change to your appointment,” Zayne began; typing away on the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“It’s okay,” you answered quietly, absentmindedly fidgeting with your hands as they laid in your lap.

“You seem nervous,” Zayne pointed out, glancing up at you over his glasses briefly, before turning his attention back to the computer.

His words made you aware of what your hands were doing; halting your fidgeting movements.

“You don’t need to be, this is just a routine appointment,” he assured you with a small smile; but his words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

~~~~~~

The questions started off normal, like “How have you felt since your last check up?”, “Have you had any new injuries from any recent missions,” etcetera, etcetera, and then they started to get a bit more private, a bit more personal.

Starting with, “Any irregularities in your menstrual cycle?”

“No,” you answered back finitely, making Zaynes eyes fall on you once again; but this time, he held your gaze.

He knew that you were lying.

And you knew that he knew.

The way in which you answered the question was an obvious giveaway.

But even without that, you knew Zayne would probably have sussed out that you were lying, he always knew.

“Y/n, it is key in these appointments for you to be honest with your doctor,” he reminded you softly, urging you to tell him the truth.

But you knew what your answer could imply; you were a week late, just one week and you knew that it was probably because of stress and exhaustion; not because of any other reason.

You knew your answer would open a door to more personal questions; but you also knew that you needed to tell Zayne the truth.

“I’m a week late,”

“I see,” he replied, turning back to his computer screen, for a brief moment you saw something in his eyes, a look of…hurt, you watched how his jaw tightened and he continued typing away on his computer, “and when was the last time you were intimate with someone?”

And there it was, the very question types of questions you were trying to avoid.

You knew what he was implying with his question.

His question was almost laughable, had you not been so embarrassed about the answer you knew you’d have to give, you probably would have laughed.

In truth, you could barely remember the last time you went on a date with someone, let alone the last times you were intimate with someone; and now you had to admit that to the very man who was part of the reason why.

You liked Zayne, as more than a friend… in all honesty, to you, no one else compared to him.

So even if you did have the time to date people, or be intimate with them, you wouldn’t because they weren’t Zayne.

Sometimes, you thought he held the same feelings for you,even though he’d never said anything to give you such an idea.

It was more in the way you caught him looking at you sometimes…with a look that not only made your heart skip a beat, but a look that made you wonder.

A look that made you wonder if he felt the same; or if it was just your hopeful heart messing with your mind.

“A year,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment fill your cheeks.

It was a year ago, with someone you met in a bar, one thing led to another and you ended up in their bed.

It was then that you realised how you truly felt for Zayne…because all you could do whilst you were being intimate with them, was imagine Zayne.

After that, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet anyone else.

You didn’t want to.

Which is why you kept yourself busy with work; it stopped you from being able to think about your own loneliness too much.

Zayne said nothing in response to your answer; though you did notice his expression seemed to soften as he typed your answer up on your medical record sheet.

A few more questions and a blood test later and your appointment was over and you were following Zayne to the door to his office.

“I’m going to sign you off for a few days; so you can get some rest,” he said as he put his hand on the handle of the door.

“Zayne-” you attempted to argue back but he just shook his head, silencing your words, before you could even finish your counter argument.

“A few days of rest,” He repeated softly, though you knew by the look in his eyes that there was no use arguing with him.

“Understand?” His voice was just above a whisper but it was loud enough to send a small pleasurable shiver throughout your body.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how much of an effect he had on you by just whispering to you like this.

“Y/n,”

You hated your first name, so you always went by Y/n/n.

Hearing your full first name was unusual, no one called you it anymore; but it was especially unusual hearing it fall from Zayne's lips; though for some reason your name sounded good on his lips.

“Do you understand?” he asked again

You knew you shouldn’t have found his question as erotic as you did; it was a simple question, but the authority in his voice mixed with the way his eyes were burning into yours, made you feel very hot and tingly all of a sudden.

You were turned on...

You needed to play it cool, act like you perfectly fine, so you nodded in agreement.

Not daring to trust your voice at this very moment; not when you were this close to each other.

“Good,” was the last thing he said to you before opening the door, allowing you to walk out of his office.

You'd barely take a few steps away from his door before you heard it click shut behind you; it was only then you released a breath you hadn't been aware of holding as you replayed what just happened in your mind.

He was so close to you...so close...

'Stop it,' you mentally scolded yourself as you began walking down the hallway.

You passed the reception and left the hospital quickly, trying to think about what you were going to do with your now free days, instead of how much you wanted Zayne...

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @princess-harvey @deathkat657 @comatosebunny09 @the-slytherin-poet @ladyparamount @ayatoq @cheesemachine44 @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie

#zayne x reader #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne x you #zayne x mc #lds zayne #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagine #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut

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rosenclaws · 2 months ago

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Hi again lol 👋

Here's the leopold idea I had:

The reader is a shy baker who lives next door to Stuart. Her and Stuart are friends, and sometimes she'll bring meals/baked goods over to make sure he's eating (she's soft like that). She also has a cat, Appa, who likes to visit Stuart. When Stuart takes Leo home, they get introduced to each other due to her cat coming over and finding Leo instead.

Leo and the reader build a friendship, and she introduces him to all the different cuisines/baked goods the 21st century has to offer. Over time, they start to develop feelings for each other but won't say anything to the other because they don't think the other likes them in that way. Stuart, our awkward wing man, informs Leo that the reader definitely likes them due to how much time they spent with them and may have overheard a conversation that the reader has with a friend about him.

They admit their feelings in a fluffy way and throw in a kiss and maybe like a timeskip into the future where they're married, and they're telling their kids how they met and all that fluffy goodness.

I'll leave the ending up to you. I was running out of creative juice on how to end it, lol.

Made With Love || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, a little messing with the Kate & Leopold canon, me making shit up about Leopolds past, leopold is a girl dad

a/n: I love this request and it actually ended up being longer than I thought haha. I have also crafted this total backstory to Leopold's childhood and parents in my head so now that's gonna be a running theme in my leo fics i think. Anyways I hope you like it!! Also i made some little divider in canva in like 3 seconds im sorry its not very original sdfalkj

wc: 2.9k

The sun shines through your balcony windows as another day begins, well for you the day had began at 4am. Preparing dough for the large order of baked goods you had to deliver today. It's a very small business, one that you run from your apartment but you love it.

"Good morning Appa, finally decided to wake up huh?" You wipe your hands on your apron and scratch his head softly. He stretches happily before heading towards the window. Appa is a very spoiled cat so you have no worries of him running off. He often travels to your neighbors, seeing if they're free to give him even more attention.

"Okay pretty simple order today." You check your list over before giving yourself a little time to rest.

A loud yowl makes you jump as you hurry towards the window. That's definitely Appa and you've never heard him make a sound like that. Peeking out the window you see him standing outside of Stuarts window, back arched and ears flat as he hisses.

"Appa what has gotten into you!" You climb over and pick him up.

"Sorry Stuart I have no..." When you look into the window it's not Stuart you see. A strange man is on the couch looking disheveled and confused and wearing really strange clothing.

"You're not Stuart." You hold your cat closer, debating if you should run and call the cops or not.

"I'm afraid not, he'll be back in just a moment." You slowly inch back towards your apartment.

"Um, okay. Who are you? Exactly?"

"Leopold. Do you know the man that lives here?" He gets up and walks towards you making you take a step back. Appa jumps out of your arms and scampers back to your apartment. The door opens and you spot Stuart and Bart.

"Stuart! What the hell did you do!?" You shout. Leopold stops in his tracks when he notices the nervousness in your voice.

"Dammit!" Stuart hurries over to the window.

"Now is not a good time, I'll explain later." He abruptly slams the window in your face.

You slam your fist against the window but the blinds go down, locking you out. You knew Stuart has had some, interesting ideas before. He's shown you but you never believed they could actually do anything. Just a work of science fiction.

Climbing back into your apartment you check on your baked goods. Taking a few sheets of cookies out of the oven you decide to grab a few and put them on a plate. Stuart could never resist your homemade chocolate chip cookies.

"Stuart! Let me in! I have cookies." You hear shuffling behind the door before it swings open.

"Not fair." He opens the door to let you in and you smile happily.

"So, who is he?" Stuart explains as much as he can. That he traveled back in time to 1876 and accidently brought back his great great great grandfather Leopold and now he has to get him back or else he'll disappear.

"You're kidding right? This is some elaborate prank?" Stuart shakes his head as he takes a bit of a cookie.

"I swear on my life." Your eyes drift to Leopold who was currently looking through some magazine.

A look of utter bewilderment on his face. He throws the magazine down and lets his head fall into his hands. To him this must be a nightmare. Not that you fully believed Stuart but you were willing to entertain the idea. You take the plate of cookies and place them in front of him.

"You want one?" He lifts his head to see you standing there. You actually start to feel bad. He looked stressed, upset, and genuinely lost.

"What is this?" He reaches out and turns it around in his hands.

"Have you never seen a chocolate chip cookie?" You ask with a laugh, though it quickly dies down as you realize he hasn't.

"Try it, it's good." He hesitates but takes a bite.

"This is marvelous. Did you make these?" He stands up abruptly, startling you just a bit.

"Yeah, have you really never had this before?' You ask in disbelief. Leopold finishes the cookie quickly, savoring every bite as the flavor takes over his taste buds.

"Never, I've had shortbread before but never something this rich and delicious." He compliments. You're slightly taken back, yes people like your baked goods but they aren't usually this forward about it. Or this charming

"Oh it's nothing, I make these all the time."

"Nonsense, the work of a baker is like art. Crafting such succulent breads and goods with your own hands is no easy task." The way he speaks is enchanting, maybe it's the accent but you've never met a man so well spoken before. Maybe he really was from the past.

"I can show you how I make them, if you want." You offer.

"It would be my honor."

“Hey wait a second,” Stuart interrupts.

“You said the next chance to get him home is Monday right? Well thats a week away so we have time. Bye Stuart!” You grab Leopold’s wrist and take him back to your apartment. He’s met with the smell of fresh bread as he steps foot into your place. It’s comforting, reminds him of his childhood.

“I have a couple orders that are getting picked up today, so can you help me roll out some dough?” You don’t hesitate to put him to work as you prepare the pie filling for your order. Leopold takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves. You hand him five separate balls of dough for the five pies.

“You mentioned orders, do you run a bakery?” He questions as he watches you weigh ingredients.

“Not quite, I wouldn’t really call this a bakery. More of a small business.”

“A businesswoman?” You raise an eyebrow and stop mixing.

“What? Hard to believe?” You tease.

“Not at all. I find it very fitting.” You hum in response, finishing up the filling for the order. You turn on some music to fill the air and time goes by quickly. Leopold is a great help, the pies getting into the oven ahead of schedule.

"Now we wait." You say with a sigh as you stretch your arms above your head.

Appa jumps onto the counter and rubs his head against your side. He stares at Leopold for a moment before cautiously sniffing his hand. Leopold reaches and pets Appa's head, scratching his chin and smiling when Appa starts to purr happily.

"So, tell me Leopold, how did you get here from the past?" He sighs and leans against the counter.

"I haven't the faintest idea. One moment I'm about to announce my engagement and the next I'm falling off a bridge and waking up here." He looks around, staring out the window to look at what is supposedly New York.

"Engagement?" You say shocked, I mean he's a good looking guy so it's not too shocking but that's quite the information to dump. His face shifts to a look of annoyance.

"My uncle had decided that it was time to get married. We were running out of money and marrying a wealthy American was..."

"A means to an end?" You finish for him.

He nods, he smiles but there's sadness in his eyes. You couldn't imagine what it must be like for him. Having to marry for money instead of real love. Without think you start to play with your necklace.

"That's a beautiful necklace. May I?" He reaches out but waits for your okay. You nod silently and he gently holds the stone in his hands.

"It was my grandmothers, real diamond so she claimed." You joke, real diamond or not it belonged to her and you loved it.

"My mother had a ring like this. A beautiful ruby at the center." He gently places it back down against your skin. You suddenly become incredibly aware of how close he is. Your timer rings out through the apartment making you take a step back. You clear your throat and move to check on your pies.

"Tell me more, about your life before you came here." You ask, wanting to know everything about this man. He's like a magnet that you can't help but move towards.

"It's a long story." He says gently. You glance at the clock and shrug your shoulders.

"We've got time."

The week passes by too fast. Way too fast. Leopold was over almost every day. Helping you with your orders and telling you wonderful stories.

He was a natural in the kitchen with you. For that he gave credit to his mother. His mother wasn't born royal, working in an orchard for her family. She was a wonderful cook according to Leopold. His father was the one with royal blood, like Leopold he was meant to marry for power, for status but he didn't. He fell in love with Leopold's mother, love at first sight. Soulmates that were destined to be together. Their love story is what made love so hard for Leopold. Love is a leap, that's what he said. Yet there has been no one worth jumping for.

You understood, there hasn't been anyone like that for you either. Well, not until Leopold showed up. You used to scoff at the idea of love. It feels impossible to find love these days, no matter what you tried there never was this spark. So you stopped caring for now, focusing on your business instead.

Then Leopold fell into your life and ruined it all. You want to tell him, to kiss him, to save him from a loveless marriage but the deadline looms over you like a cloud and the fact that he's told you he's never been in love suppress any real chance of you saying something. So you decide to enjoy your time with him now, hoping its enough to last you a life time.

Sunday night comes too quickly. He has to leave tomorrow. Leopold stares out at the city he's gotten to know. The lights are on in your apartment but he can't bring himself to go over. He has to say goodbye but he doesn't know how. He hears the window open behind him.

"She's home. I can hear her through the walls." Stuart nudges Leopold's shoulder. He glances over but stays put.

"I...If go now, I don't think I would leave. I love her." He looks down at his hands.

"She loves you too. I know it. I've never seen her light up around someone like she does with you." Stuart rests a hand on his shoulder in an attempt at comfort him.

"I'm sorry, I wish things were different." The light in your apartment goes out and he feels his heart clench.

It's too late. He sighs and heads back inside, laying on Stuarts couch as he stares at the celling. At least he's gotten the chance to know what love is.

Even if it's a fleeting moment, he knows.

You knock on the door, a plate of fresh cookies in your hand. You want Leopold to have them one last time. You wait and wait but no one comes.

A pit forms in your stomach as you leave the cookies at the doorstep. You hurry through your apartment to the window. Your heart stops as you see a letter with your name on it sitting on your window sill.

Hello my love,

I apologize for not seeing you in person before I have to leave. The truth is I am a coward. I knew that if I had said goodbye, if I had seen your face that I would not have had the strength to leave. Though I return to my time, I must tell you that my heart is yours. It will always be yours. I love you.

Yours truly,

Leopold.

You wipe the tears that are forming in your eyes with the back of your hand. He can't be gone. He can't just leave like that. You love him. You love him so much. You fold the letter and tuck it in your back pocket.

"Appa!" You grab your cat and run out the door.

This is stupid, this is so stupid. You race down the street towards the Brooklyn bridge as fast as your legs could carry you. Appa clings to your shoulder as you weave through the people.

"Stuart!" You shout as you spot him across the street. He looks at you confused as you run through traffic, dodging cars to get to him.

"Is he gone? Is it too late?" You ask desperately.

"I...what?" Stuart asks in disbelief.

"Is it too late to go back?" Are you really going to do this? Go back in time to be with him? This is crazy, absolutely crazy. But Leopold told you that love was a leap and for once you want to jump.

"Are you sure about this?" Stuart asks as you both race towards the bridge.

"Yes, for once in my life I am sure." You stop on the edge of the bridge.

"I just have to jump right?" You hold Appa tightly as you peer over the side.

"Don't look down, it's going to be okay." You take one last look back.

"Thank you Stuart, Thank you." You give him a hug before take a deep breath and jumping off the side.

You feel the wind rushing past your face, you're falling and falling. Until you're not. Everything seems to stop. As you open your eyes you see cobblestone streets and people dressed in old clothing.

"We made it!" You look around for any sign of where to find Leopold.

Racing down the streets towards his home, he told you about it once. Pointed it out, he was shocked it was still there. You sneak your way past some people dressed in fancy clothes. Head's turning your direction as you stick out amongst the crowd. Your breath stops as you see him steps above the crowd.

"Sorry, excuse me." You push past a crowd of people to get his attention.

"Leopold!" His eyes dart around the room, searching for your voice. Perhaps it's a trick of the mind.

"Leo!" You push to the front, not caring that everyone is staring at you.

You're here, you found him. A look of pure shock on his face as he steps down. For a moment he doesn't think you're real. How could you be? You set Appa down and walk towards him.

"How could you leave me without saying goodbye?" You take the letter and shove it against his chest. He stands there, still stunned by your presence.

"I love you Leopold, I love you." He leans in and kisses you passionately.

One hand cupping your head and the other resting at your waist as he pulls you as close as he can get you. Your arms wrap around his neck, his nose brushes against your cheek.

"I love you." He says breathlessly. Without hesitating he gets down on one knee, taking his mothers ring from his pocket.

"Will you marry me?" You don't wait a second before saying yes. He slips the ring on and pulls you into another kiss. Nothing else mattered as you held Leopold in your arms.

You were home.

"Tell it again!" Your oldest daughter pleads. She puts on her best puppy dog eyes. You laugh and brush the hair out of her face.

"Yes please!" The younger one joins in the begging.

"You've already heard it a million times." You say but they don't care.

"But it's such a good story. You're like a princess!"

"Actually, she's a duchess." Leopold says as he walks through the door. Your girls jump from your lap straight into Leopold's arms.

"How are my darling girls today?" They start to babble on about their day and you watch happily. Appa sits on the window sill, lazily sleeping in the sun.

"Alright go wash up for dinner." He gently sets them down and watches as they go running. You stand up and kiss him gently.

"How was the bakery today?" You ask as Leopold wraps you in a warm hug. He smells like bread.

"Busy as usual." When you got married it's safe to say his uncle was not amused.

So the two of you left and much to Leopold's dismay you sold your necklace. He tried to get you to keep it but you were set on it. With the money you opened up a small bakery. You tried not to mess too much with the past but somethings slipped through as your bakery became the biggest hit in New York. Now you live a nice life. Two kids and a loving husband. What more could you ask for?

"The girls say we're soulmates," You hum happily. Leopold kisses you again, and again, and once more for good measure.

"We are my love,"

"Through space and time." You add.

Looking back maybe it was crazy that you left everything behind so quickly. To leave everything you knew to be with him. But you loved him. It felt like there was this string pulling the two of you closer and closer, through all of time. You built a life with him. There's no regrets, no worries. Just Leopold.

He was yours and nothing else mattered.

#hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten

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unluckiestmember · 10 days ago

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Could I request headcanons for Remy, Kurt, and Logan reacting to his shy GN s/o asking him if they can sit on his lap in private nervously please?

Coming right up!

Sitting on their lap: X-Men '97 Daddies X Reader

Characters: Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Some suggestive themes, but other than that, none. SFW.

A/N: Whose lap are you sitting on? I might sit on Gambit's, he seems like he'd have a balance between flirty and sweet.

Gambit

“Hey, Mon Cher! What are you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?… You want to sit on my lap? Well, then by all means! Make it your personal throne!”

When you first asked Remy if you could try sitting on his lap, he was a bit surprised. But of course he wasted no time opening himself up to you to take a seat. At first, he mainly kept his hands to himself but then when he could tell you were getting used to it, he wrapped his arm around your body and began to kiss along your cheek and your neck teasingly.

Sometimes he’ll use you sitting in his lap to flirt with you. Just to see if he can get your blood pumping, if you catch his drift. But most times, he’s just being a soft guy, rubbing his nose against your cheek, sneaking in some quick kisses along your lips and laying his head on your shoulder. Gambit will try to keep your antics on the low, but sometimes he just can’t help but hold you in public. You two are so cute the rest of the X-Men are sure they’ll get cavities just by looking at the cute display that is you and your boyfriend. Not that Remy cares- He’s too busy being on cloud nine with you so close to him!

Nightcrawler

“Was ist los, Sonnenblume?… Oh! Y-You want to sit on me? Um, I-I guess it wouldn’t hurt, no?”

Kurt was a bit hesitant when you first asked him to sit on his lap. He asked countlessly if you were sure of doing so before you could even try to sit next to him. After so much reassurance to the point you sounded like a broken record, he finally allowed you to sit on his lap. At first, it was awkward silence with the cute blue devil trying so hard to not lay his hands in any way onto you out of fear of being perceived as perverted or sexual. But as soon as you guide his hands to wrap around you, he just melts into you while you sit in the embrace of his arms.

Whenever you sit on his lap, he’ll always be shocked by the sudden action, but will immediately hold you close and just talk to you about his day if he’s not asking about your own. Sometimes he’ll find you ruffling his hair to make him ease up by laying his head onto your shoulder. In those moments, you find yourself appreciating the gentleness of your boyfriend, especially knowing you can make him relax after a long day of work.

Wolverine

“You wanna take a seat on my lap? Heh. Well who am I to say no? Get over here.”

Logan wasted no time grabbing you by your hand and guiding you onto his lap. His hands sat on your waist, watching your every move as you tried to avert your gaze from him to no avail. He loves when you sit against him because it’s always the perfect moment for him to make you blush a beet red at his sweet nothings being whispered into your ear. If he’s not using his voice to get you all riled up, he can rely on his thumbs brushing along your hips to do the trick.

Outside of his suggestive motives, sometimes he’ll just talk to you while you sit on his lap. Expect him to turn you around so you two are face to face and he can stare into your eyes and your fingers brush through his wild hair. Of course, there will be moments where Logan proceeds a makeout session with you sitting on him, whether you two are in private or not. He likes to make it known that you are his and vice versa because not only does he love to see Scott being pissed off by what he has, but he also likes to show you off as the precious jewel you are.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

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sluttyangy · 4 months ago

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Hey there, I hope you’re having a beautiful day/night! I’m not sure how many requests you have at the moment; if you’ve got too many please feel free to ignore this! Before getting into the request I just want to say I absolutely adore your blog theme and writing! ❤️ As for the request, I too am a bit of a Shidou whore >~< so I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with maybe writing something about his turn-ons? It doesn’t have to be anything explicit if you don’t want it to be — maybe just some things his s/o does that would be attractive/stimulating to him? Of course you could also include other characters if you’d like! Again, if you aren’t interested or if you’re too busy then please feel free to ignore ❤️ thanks in advance either way! You’re doing great! ❤️🙌🏻

⟢ Synopsis : Shidou’s turn-ons ! ♡ (sfw and nsfw)

⟢ Notes : Hiii anon !! tysm for your request, I’m very glad to know that my theme and writing is liked ! ♡ I hope you are doing very good ! My requests are indeed open and even very welcomed <3 There will be a sfw part, and a nsfw part, so if you aren’t into nsfw stuff, feel free to ignore this part ! Thank you so much to everyone for the support, and I hope i can continue to bring y’all the delulu we all need ♡

⟢ Sfw :

Shidou is absolutely in love with everything about you. But, there's still some little things that make him go wild. He loves whenever you just call for his name, even calling around the house, calling in the changing rooms at the stadium. It brings him so much satisfaction to hear his name from your pretty mouth, and sometimes will even act like he didn't hear you, just so you would repeat that heavenly word to his ears.

Ryusei also has a thing for your hair, whether it be long or short. He just loves to run his hands through it, and he can never help but imagine himself tugging and pulling it.

Shidou is absolutely in love with your waist, he always needs to be touching it, holding it, squeezing it underneath his fingers. It turns him on to imagine just how much positions he could put you in just by holding your waist.

Finally, the horny demon feels his heart explode whenever you walk around the house wearing his clothes. It makes him feel like you totally belong to him, that there's a piece of him on you, showing that you are his. Same for outside, he could die on place when he sees you wearing his jersey, out in town or to his matches. Being really possessive, that allows him to show to everyone that this pretty girl is his girlfriend.

⟢ Nsfw :

During the more sensual and intimate moments, Shidou has a lot more turn-ons. Basically everything about you turn him on, from your body to the look in your eyes, to the way you lick your lips.

But once again, some things turned him on more than the others. Shidou's favorite thing is seeing you totally fucked out, totally cockdrunk. That man goes on for many rounds, more than your pretty little brain can handle. This leads you to only being able to think about the man holding you, only feeling his touch and the intense stimulation he gives you. Ryusei could cum just by watching the dazed look in your eyes, the drool dripping down your chin.

He loves your shudders, the way your body react to his relentless assault. He loves when he feels your goosebumps under his fingertips when he bites and suck at your skin. He proudly wears the scratches on his back, on his waist, and on his arms. Ryusei adores that you just try to have the most physical contact possible with him, and he gladly gives in.

Shidou also has more simple things that turn him on sexually, like those little booty shorts that shows the underside of your ass, or those tank tops that'll reveal your cleavage. He will always grope at it, touch it in some ways. Want to send him to heaven ? Wear those and stuff his cock between your breasts, giving him that innocent doe eyes.

#bllk #bllk shidou #blue lock #bluelock #shidou #shidou ryusei #bluelock smut #shidou smut #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #bluelock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader

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00-jammy-00 · 9 months ago

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Since you mentioned u haven’t gotten more specific requests… maybe Yan CEO and how the first meet up at the convention was like? 🤔 with CEO reader OR his POV when reader hits on him while drunk (are they in a bar together? Business trip <3) can be a little smutty too as a treat since you mentioned him cumming in his pants when you kiss him..

Yan!CEO HC’s

Yan!CEO x GN! CEO! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, nsfw mentions (more than normal), possessiveness, horny yan, lovesick yan, drunken consent, drunken sex

A/N - Oh my god, they’re back?? Fuck yeah I am 🙏 for this part two I’ve decided to go with the second option of how you guys ended up sleeping together, this will include more NSFW than most of my other posts so be warned. Also, this request is amazing, thank you for not just saying “More this.” “This type of Yan with this type of Reader.” Those requests are difficult since it’s hard to come up with a scenario on the spot. Sorry for the long A/N, have an amazing read xx.

——————————————————————————————————

Yan!CEO was having the time of his life when he ran into you at the bar. Oh you frequent this place? Jeez, he didn’t know that at all, it’s not like he watches your every move or anything.

Yan!CEO who subtly pays for your drinks, pushing more and more down your system. You were just too cute, you got so angry, so mad that he teased you for showing off some skin, you know how fucking mad he was that you decided to show off skin to some strangers when he was there? He was fuming behind that smug grin.

Yan!CEO whose eyes gleamed when you became more bold, cussing him out aggressively, throwing your hands up in the air. Calm down dear, you’re drawing attention.

Yan!CEO who decided to make a joke about how you look sexy when you’re mad, thus causing you to lurch forward and grab him by the throat. He swear he saw stars. And fuck— when you decided to kiss him so harshly, lips smashing into his! Clean up on aisle his pants!

Yan!CEO who eagerly followed your lead as you dragged him to your hotel room, you booked this before you got to the bar? You knew he was coming, didn’t you sweetheart? You wanted this. You wanted him.

Yan!CEO who doesn’t drop the teasing attitude as you messily make out the moment you entered your room, hands flying to rip off clothes, god, this was everything for him. He still remembers the hazy look in your eyes when he put his knee between your legs, pinning you to the wall.

Yan!CEO who lays you sweetly on the bed, he could practically taste the alcohol on your tongue as you shared harsh kisses. He didn’t want to hurt you! You’re too fragile, he doesn’t like breaking his valuables, not unless they wanted him too…

Or…

Yan!CEO who decided being a brat was the way to go, put him in his place? He’d like to see you try, bet you can’t even make him cum…bet you can’t…bet you— bet you can’t make him cum…

Yan!CEO who is a whiny little bitch. If you want him to hump your boot to get off he’s already on the floor but he’s teasing you about how you’re ordering him around. It’s not HIS fault that he can’t keep still when he’s underneath you, you’re just so perfect! He needs you nooowwwww!

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

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colonelarr0w · 9 months ago

Note

Heyy 💜

I read that you are accepting requests so I came here to ask for one with Nanami but he as a teenager (because I've been in love with him since that time lol) would like to see his first time, a cute smut at first because he seemed to be so inexperienced and introverted but later he could have a kinky side 🥴

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, smut, Gojo being nosy asf

A/N - I do plan to make a part 2 to this piece, so I decided to focus on Reader for this piece and then Nanami in the second one. It'll make more sense once y'all read it, I promise.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

For the six months that you and Nanami had been together, the farthest that you two got in terms of intimacy was heated make outs and rough grinding – both of which were done with about as much grace as a baby cow trying to ice skate.

That didn't mean that either of you wanted to take it further, it was just that neither of you really knew how.

And what didn't make any of this better?

Satoru Gojo constantly being up Nanami's ass about it.

"While I appreciate your input-"

"If you 'appreciated' my input," Gojo lifts his fingers and mocks making air quotes, "then you would take my advice and – y'know – not be a virgin anymore."

Nanami's eye twitches in fury, eyebrows pinched together as the snowy-haired male shrugs his shoulders, rolling his eyes with the most 'I-said-so' expression that he had ever seen on another human being.

"Your advice is about as helpful as a fanfiction written by a middle school girl," Geto is quick to chime in, throwing an arm over Gojo's shoulder and patting his palm against his friend's chest. Gojo scoffs, jaw dropping open as he turns his head to glare daggers into Geto.

"Excuse me, my advice is-"

"Hi Ken! Hi everyone!" Your happy voice is what effectively kills the growing argument, bright smile infecting the group in front of you – all of them turn to return your greeting. Nanami's smile is much more toned down than the others, but that doesn't mean nobody fails to notice the way his lips quirk upward the moment your lips come into contact with his cheek.

"Hello," Nanami is the first to respond, eyes softening at you as you pull away and wave to greet the others. Gojo glances at Nanami, sending him a knowing glance that is shrugged off by the blonde. "I thought you were busy training today?"

"Nope! Yaga gave me the rest of the afternoon off, so I figured I'd come by and grab you," you say with a grin on your face, lifting a hand to affectionately pat his cheek. "I went out shopping yesterday and got snacks and a movie."

Nanami finds himself smiling again, completely ignoring the existence of those around him, eyes focused on you like a lovesick puppy. He squeezes the hand that rests on his face, nodding his head at the request.

"What movie did you pick out?" Nanami asks innocently – his tone of voice makes Gojo snicker. You glance curiously at the third-year, who only turns swiftly away from you and whistles as if he had done nothing.

"Just some cheesy rom-com," you answer just as innocently, smiling again at your boyfriend. Nanami glances quickly at Gojo, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Gojo's curled lips – he was grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat.

"It sounds nice. Would you like to watch it now?"

You nod eagerly, already reaching for your boyfriend's hand. He allows your fingers to slip into his own, feeling himself chuckle as you squeeze happily at them. You bid the rest of the group farewell, waving politely to them before turning in the direction of the student dormitories.

Nanami glances over his shoulder at the group as you both depart, feeling his cheeks heat at the hand gestures that Gojo throws up. That little-

< … >

"Ken," you breathe into his mouth, arms wound around his neck as your lips move against his own. The movie is still playing in the background, but its plot is entirely forgotten – not that either of you minded in the slightest.

His hands grip at your hips, moving them across his own and swallowing your moans. You pull back from him to catch your breath, whining lightly as you grind your hips against his own. Nanami smirks to himself, leaning forward to lightly kiss at your neck, relishing in the way you try (and fail) to hold back moans.

"What is it?" Nanami asks quietly, perking an eyebrow at you as your movements against him still. You glance at him, eyes lust-blown and your cheeks reddened with lust. He already knows what it is that you want – but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't a nervous wreck. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

"I – why don't we – you know," you whisper nervously, your hands on Nanami's shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He tilts his head at you, urging you to continue speaking. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to hear you say it – he wants you to verbalize exactly what it was that you wanted.

"Why don't we what?"

"C'mon Ken," you whine, moving your hips against his once. He grits his teeth, suppressing the moan that climbs up his throat at the drag of your hips against his own. You smirk at the reaction you pull from him, leaning forward so that your lips just barely ghost against his. "You know."

Nanami glances up at you, swallowing his nervousness and leaning forward again, attaching his lips to your neck and kissing the skin there. You exhale shakily, nails biting into his shoulders as you rock against him again.

"Are you sure?" Nanami mutters against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver in the best way possible.

"I'm sure."

Nanami continues to place featherlight kisses against your neck, hands moving your hips back and forth against his own, craving that friction that you had provided. You don't protest, allowing him to move you while he sucks a dark purple hickey into your neck – one that you would definitely have trouble hiding in the morning.

Hesitantly, his hands travel upwards, one hand cupping over your clothed breast and giving it an apprehensive squeeze. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to meet his own as he gives you a look that asks 'is this okay'.

You nod again at him, urging him to keep going.

Nanami's hands return to your hips, where he then guides you off of his lap and lays you down flat on the couch, hovering over you. His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, lips moving in sync with your own. His hands wander, squeezing and groping your tits.

You moan quietly into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and mussing his bangs. He smirks against your lips, hungrily swallowing your moans. His hands continue their assault, thumbs experimentally flicking over your nipples through your shirt.

That pulls a particularly loud whine from you – one that Nanami immediately wants to hear again.

Hesitantly, Nanami begins to lift your shirt, getting it rolled up to your stomach before you wiggle the rest of the way out, throwing the clothing across the room. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands working to quickly unclasp your bra and discard that as well.

The moment that your tits spill out over your chest, Nanami flicks his thumb against one of your nipples, relishing the whine that you let out. Your back arches from the couch, body not quite used to the sensation that Nanami had been the source of.

"Ken," you moan out, raising a hand to tilt his head so that his gaze meets yours. He nearly cums in his pants at the expression you wear – lust-blown pupils and slightly swollen lips from the force at which he had kissed them.

He exhales, leaning his head down and dragging his tongue down the valley of your breasts, eyes occasionally flickering up to you just in case you wanted him to stop. Your hands tangle in his hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp – you truly didn't want him to stop. Not that he was opposed.

He turns, bringing one nipple into his mouth and hesitantly running his tongue over it. Your back arches, lips parting to release a choked-out moan as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Ken,” you whine out again, glancing down your body at him and panting as you wait in anticipation. His hands hook underneath the waistband of your pants, helping you shimmy out of them with a small smirk plastered onto his face.

“What is it?” he whispers, his hands holding your hips with his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the supple flesh. He squeezes them lovingly, earning a whine from you. “You’ll have to tell me.”

“C’mon Kento, stop teasing,” you whine, bucking your hips upward and chasing the pleasure that his hands had been giving you up until that point. He smirks, leaning down to kiss your pussy over your panties — the feeling making you squirm in anticipation.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Nanami answers honestly, kissing your pussy again before his eyes flicker up to meet yours, taking a mental note of the expression of lust that occupies your face.

"I am," you whisper in response, moving your hips upward again in a silent plea for him to continue. Nanami hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and biting back a breathy chuckle at the way you eagerly help him in removing the article of clothing.

He runs a finger down your glistening folds, your body stuttering at the touch and a broken moan falling from your lips. He lifts his hand for a moment, twisting his wrist so that the pad of his thumb rubs circles into your clit – the action sends sparks up your spine.

You whine out at the contact, lifting your hips to drag your clit along his finger. In response, he continues to rub circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling his cock strain in his pants at the sound of your whines and moans.

Hesitantly, Nanami leans in, tentatively flicking his tongue against your clit. Your body jolts forward, hands tangling in his hair. You tug him closer to your pussy, letting out a panted breath as he presses a featherlight kiss against your clit.

He remains between your legs for what feels like hours – even though it had to have been only fifteen minutes at most. He licks, sucks, and drags his tongue flat against your pussy, eager to pull those sweet sounds from your throat.

"Ken...fuck...I'm cumming!" Your voice raises in pitch as your back arches off of the couch, chest stuttering as the knot in your stomach – which had been building up slowly – snaps completely. Nanami continues his assault on your pussy, desperate to feel you cum against him.

He sucks your clit between his lips, that being enough to send you over the edge. Your hips buck up into him, small shocks sent through your entire body as you lay back down against the couch, panting and trying to catch your breath.

Nanami rises from his spot between your legs, dragging the back of his knuckles against his lips as he stares through half-lidded eyes to admire your fucked out expression. Soft pants fall from your parted lips, a small line of drool dribbling down your chin — which he swipes his thumb against.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, smiling as your eyes focus on him again. Your own lips quirk upward, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Better than alright," you answer honestly, panting slightly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at Nanami through half-lidded eyes.

He finds himself smiling at your exhaustion, crawling up to you and softly pressing his lips to yours. You moan quietly against his lips, your fingers weaving into his golden locks and tugging lightly. He pulls back to admire you again, both of you staring at the other in comfortable silence.

"I think that's enough for you," he whispers. You shake your head at him, though your eyes betray you, slowly blinking at him and biting back the yawn that threatens to escape your lips. "Yes. Come now, don't worry about me, you're exhausted."

"I'm not," you weakly protest, leaning your forehead against Nanami's. He chuckles at you, bringing you into his arms and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. "Kento."

"Hush," he shushes you, squeezing you. You sigh, allowing your heavy eyes to fall shut, body curling closer to his and absorbing the warmth that he radiates. "There's always next time," he promises. You hum in response.

Yeah, there was always next time.

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winterrrnight · 10 months ago

Text

always? always.

PAIRING: frat!rafe cameron x gn!ex bsf!reader

SUMMARY: you and rafe were best friends, but you parted ways in high school for reasons unknown. but what happens when you get a text from him, asking you to come over?

WARNINGS: abuse, ward being a shitty dad, swearing, bruises, cuts, blood, hurt/comfort. it talks explicitly about physical and emotional abuse!

EDITH SPEAKS: so. this is actually one of my works for my 300 followers celly and it was requested by @bejeweledreverie, but I accidentally posted their request without any actual content in it 🥲 so anyways, Annie, I hope you enjoy reading! <3

I got a little carried away, and usually I don't write themes like this, I think it turned out pretty good! Let me know any thoughts you may have 💞 this is set right in the beginning of S1!

PROMPT REQUESTED: "you came." "you called."

300 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

This is strange. This is never supposed to happen. Rafe Cameron, out of all the people, has texted you if you can come over if you aren’t busy.

Where is this coming from?

You stare at the text for minutes, trying to figure out maybe there’s something which will show you this is all just a bluff. But it seems genuine. Really genuine.

And that’s what is concerning you.

You have known Rafe since basically forever, and you were close when you were little. But something happened in high school, something which you still haven’t figured out exactly what it is, that he basically refuses to do anything but detest you. You’ve tried to understand what it is; tried your level best to separate each strand of the situation to figure what exactly did you do that made him act this way. But you returned with no luck, and the best thing you could do was accept it, and move on from it.

As you think more and more about the text, the more it bothers you. It tugs on your heartstrings and you start to feel concerned for him. Fuck it, you whisper to yourself and get up from your bed to go to him.

As you’re driving to his place, you turn the situation over and over in your head. Maybe it is a prank, maybe it’s just some practical joke.

Or maybe, just maybe, he actually does need your help.

Even though the last one seems the one which has the least probability to happen, yet you’re on your way, as if you’re still his best friend.

You park your car right outside Tannyhill and make your way to its porch. You take a deep breath, trying your level best to calm down your nerves, and then you ring the bell.

The moment swells as you wait for someone to open the door for you, the only thing audible in your ears being your own heartbeat. Finally the door opens, and Rafe is standing right opposite you, in a condition that makes you gasp.

His nose is bloody and there’s a deep cut on his right cheek. Sweat and sticky tears shine on his face, and he’s almost trembling when he’s standing, holding the door open for you.

“Rafe?” You mumble softly, your breathing erratic and your eyes wide as you try to comprehend the situation at hand. Rafe Cameron texted you to come over, and when you do, you see he’s beat up.

Rafe isn’t one to back up from a fight and you know that. If a fight breaks out at school, you know, no matter what, the other person is going to be the one left with bruises all over them. Not Rafe.

It’s never Rafe.

But right now, he’s almost on the verge of breaking down, all covered in blood, and you know exactly who’s the cause of it.

Ward.

It’s been happening since you’ve known him. Ward has never been satisfied with him. He has always had a sense of control over Rafe that gives him a superiority complex and makes him think he can do whatever his heart desires.

And that’s what made Rafe so cold.

So cold from love, and touch.

But with you, he used to be relaxed. You were just kids, but you’d be comforting him, letting him know he’s okay.

But when your separation happened, you never knew how he’s been doing, but never also asked him, because Rafe never really responded well to you.

But now that he’s asked you to come, after not being close for years, you know this is something huge.

Rafe is avoiding all sorts of eye contact with you, his gaze drifting to his shoes. You are still standing at the porch, your eyes desperately trying to find his.

“You came,” he softly mumbles, his gaze fixated at the floor.

“You called,” you breathe out.

His eyes train up to yours, blue eyes – which aren’t icy how you usually see them, but soft and full of hurt. Your heart almost breaks seeing him in this condition.

He silently steps aside to make way for you. You enter inside Tannyhill, and you realize you haven't been in here in the last few years except for occasionally at a party Rafe has thrown which your friend has dragged you to. You had almost forgotten the hugeness of the mansion, and how silent it feels when there’s not many people in it.

Rafe walks ahead of you and climbs up his stairs and up to his room. You silently follow him, even though your mind remembers all the paths like the back of your hand.

Rafe reaches his room and he grips onto the door knob, and you notice his knuckles are bloody too; definitely from punching something a little too hard. You peel your gaze away from him, the blood and the bruises making you a little uncomfortable.

Rafe opens the door and you both walk inside. The room is completely disheveled; the pillows thrown around, the duvet all wrinkly and messed up, a cluttered desk, and the worst: a hole in the wall. You’re quick to connect the dots when you realize the hole and his bleeding knuckles are connected.

Rafe is now sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands and his fingers are pulling on his hair strands. You sigh at the sight and sit next to him, a small distance between you two. Rafe has never been one to like physical touch, so you’re careful to not touch him in any way, when your heart is breaking at the sight and all you want to do is softly caress his back.

He looks up from his hand towards you. “I’m sorry for calling you at such a short notice,” he mumbles. “I- I didn’t have anyone else to call,”

You shake your head at him, a sympathetic look in your eyes. “It’s okay Rafe. What happened?”

He breaks your eye contact and looks at the floor, his gaze not wavering. His forehead is creased from stress, and you can see his chest heaving as he’s taking deep breaths.

“It’s getting worse,” he whispers so faintly, the words get lost in the air around you. “So much worse,”

“Where is he right now?” you softly ask.

“Cameron Development,” he sniffs. “It’s just, I can’t fight back. When it's him, I can never fight back. I feel like a little boy, completely lost and vulnerable. He plays with my feelings. One day he’s telling me he’s proud of me, and the next? Hitting me like I’m some toy,” he whispers. “I’m, I’m done with this shit.” He looks up at you, his eyes boring into yours. “And you’re the only one who knows about it,”

You intake a sharp breath at his words, them striking a chord in you. You have never known what to exactly do in these situations, all you do is help him calm down, listen to what he has to say, clean up his wounds, and ask him to just hope for it all to end. But it's been years. It hasn’t ended yet. Why will it ever end any time soon?

You feel your own eyes pricked by tears, but you try your best to not let them fall. Rafe is so good at hiding his true feelings behind a carefully curated façade, no one ever suspects him to be going through so much shit.

“Apparently I need to get my shit together,” he chuckles dryly, when you both know there is nothing humorous about this situation. “Because if I don’t, I’ll be a shitty heir to the family business. I won’t deserve it,”

“Rafe, I know for a fact you won’t be a shitty heir. You’ll be good, heck, you’ll be great,” you say. “I have so much faith in you. That’s just how Ward is. I don’t want you listening to him, okay? He’s fucked in the head. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” You get up from his bed and stand in front of him, letting out your hand for him. “Come on, I’ll clean you up, yeah? All that blood and stuff,”

He only nods at your words and takes your hand, and he gets up. You walk to his bathroom where he has a first aid kit kept. Rafe sits on the sink and you stand in front of him, the first aid kit in your hand.

You firstly take a wet towel to clean the dried up blood from his face. You rub it gently over his face, cleaning all the blood and sweat off him.

His breathing starts to slow, and his muscles start to visibly relax as he’s letting you carefully patch him up. You can see his eyes are fluttered close, the creases in his forehead now completely absent, and he looks relaxed.

“Listen…” You mumble softly, as you're preparing a cotton pad with some antiseptic on top of it. “You don’t have long left before you can move out, yeah? It’s all almost done. You’re almost done with it.” You smile gently, as you very carefully start to dab the cotton pad on his bruises. “You’ve been so strong all your life, and now, it’s almost done. You’ll live far away from Ward, where he can’t say anything to you, yeah?”

He winces a little as the antiseptic burns him, but he doesn’t push you away. He stays fixed in his seat, his eyes closed, as he hears your words and lets you treat him.

A silence falls around you both as you start to put the band aids where they are needed. You take a step back to look if you’ve covered him okay, and it looks like you have.

“All done,” You smile, screwing the cap of the antiseptic back and keeping it in the box. Rafe opens his eyes, a soft look taking over his features as he watches you clean everything up and set it all aside.

“I’m, I’m sorry…” he whispers quietly. You look at him with a confused expression on your face.

“What for?” You mutter, not really knowing where he’s coming from.

“For pushing you away, I didn’t want to do that. It was the shittiest thing I’ve ever done. You’re the only one who understands me, who listens to me. Everyone just thinks I’m this privileged boy with a shit ton of money,” he shakes his head. “But you, you’ve seen it all through it. And I don’t think I can ever be this way with anyone else.”

You sigh at him, his words starting to sink in me. “I just want to know why you pushed me away.” You whisper. “We were best friends, Rafe,”

“I- I hated seeing you hanging out with the Pogues,” he mutters quietly. “I didn’t like losing you to them.”

You think hard about what he’s saying, and you realize he’s right. When you started at a new high school, it was overwhelming to say the very least. Pope was one of your study buddies in your class, and through him you met the rest of his friend group. To say they were living their life to the fullest is an understatement. They were enjoying every single moment of it.

“I know they live on the edge, they like doing adventurous things, and you’ve always seeked adventure just like that,” he continues, “it just hurts so much seeing you get with them. We parted ways, and the only thing I thought I could’ve done was to hate you. And, now that I think about it, I was just being petty, I know. I just, I just wish to have you back,”

The tears start to roll down your cheeks, your eyes red and your heart loud. You instantly wrap your arms around Rafe, clutching him tightly to you.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, my head in the crook of his neck. “I’m really sorry I did that. It’s my fault we separated. It’s all my fault and I’m really sorry about that,”

Rafe’s hands reach for your back as he gently rubs it, the motion soothing and relaxing. “It’s okay, it really is. I was being a little child,” he softly chuckles. He holds onto your shoulders and gently pulls you back, looking into your eyes. “Just, don’t leave me again, yeah? I can’t do this life thing without you,”

You nod your head at his words, a soft smile taking over you as you feel your tears coming to a stop. “I promise to be by your side.” you say, your words firm.

“Always?” He asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You sigh at his words, your smile still tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Always.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae

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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.

Not happening.

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.

She’s clearly looking for Solana.

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.

And that’s not the case.

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.”

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”

Dulce barks in response.

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.

He got the blueprint from Roman.

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma.

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.

Protectiveness.

It feels like he’s being protective of her.

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.”

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that.

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.

So unlike her.

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing.

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later.

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies.

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.

It’s just the calm.

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!poc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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sinner-as-saint · 4 months ago

Text

no masters or kings - 3

Priest!Bucky x Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 here

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before.

Requested: “i really wanna hear more about priest bucky. what would be his reaction to the readers partner coming back to town suddenly? or what about readers spouse saying they should start trying for a baby?”

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), breeding kink, jealous!bucky, slight angst

a/n: for @cadence-on-beat and @winters1917 (sorry this took so long ily)

Bucky was leading a double life, and he had never been happier.

By day he was the kind, gentle, compassionate priest he’d been for years in this small town. By day he was the man who had chosen this plain life rather than be the heir to his parents’ business empire. He still visited his family home over the holidays, and helped out with business stuff whenever he could. Like the good man he was. By day he prayed, and helped, and preached, and listened to all those who came to him, to confess, to lean on his shoulder, to cry, to repent. By day he was the priest the people in this small town knew and loved him as.

But then in the dark, he’d find his way to you. Always. Each night ever since those first few times. It was almost instinctual. Natural. Like Persephone finding her way back to Hades’ kingdom of darkness come autumn. Like it was destiny. A primal pull.

Bucky didn’t run at night that often anymore. If ever he did, he’d never come home. He would just run to you and stay the night, and leave right before the sun rose.

It all started that one night he found himself running in the dark in one specific direction – towards your luxurious home.

Your home was located in the rather quiet part of the town, which was a good thing. You didn’t have any neighbours, which was also good because no one saw him making his way to your front door.

His heart raced as he reached for the door handle. He thought back to what you’d once confessed to him: “Sometimes I leave the doors and windows unlocked or opened, even at night. Shamelessly hoping someone might just walk in…”

Surely not. Right? But what if–

He stopped thinking and froze the moment he turned the handle and the door opened an inch. Unlocked, just as you had said. Were you secretly hoping he’d seek you out one night?

He was here unannounced. This was not planned. He was sort of worried that he might scare you, given the boundaries he was crossing. But part of him – the long restrained, dark corner of him – was excited for this little game he was about to play. Hunter. Prey. Cat. Mouse. Something stirred inside him, and he quickly realised that his cock was harder than ever as he quietly stepped into your home.

It was dark inside, no lights were on. Except one upstairs, it looked like the soft, dim light in the hallway which lit part of the staircase. The house smelt a lot like you. Sweet. Soft. Warm. For a moment he pictured you moving around this space. And he liked it a lot.

He began making his way upstairs, he figured by the darkness and silence that you weren’t downstairs. He went to follow the dimmed light coming from somewhere, then two things happened at the same time. It began raining outside, the wind making the rain hit the windows harder than normal. And second, Bucky realised that the stairs were creaking with each step.

He went still for a moment. Every other sound around him became louder. His heartbeats, the rain hitting the glass around the house, and the muffled shuffling coming from upstairs.

You were awake. He figured. You were awake and aware that he was here. And you were trying to be as quiet as possible, not screaming bloody murder which meant that… you wanted to play as well.

Bucky smirked as he took his sweet time in making his way upstairs, making sure and letting each step creak as loudly as possible. He soon found himself in that dimly lit hallway, at the end of which were dark, double doors. One of them was partially opened. Surely your bedroom.

He could hear noises the more he approached the doors. And he was certain he even heard a soft giggle which warmed his heart, and made him smile despite the hard as rock erection in his running shorts which desperately needed attention.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the already opened door, he just pushed it open wider so he could step inside. And there, even in the dark room only lit by the street lights outside, he could see the shape of you in the middle of your four-poster bed, sitting, waiting.

“Father Barnes?” You called out softly.

“You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. You don’t know who might just walk in,” He spoke as he walked further into your room, approaching the bed. “You wouldn’t know it, but some people walk around with the most dark thoughts in their heads. You don’t know when they might just…” He braced a hand against one of the posters on your bed and leaned down just a little, “... give in.”

He didn’t see the slight smirk on your face. It was dark after all, the rain was getting heavier, trapping you two even more inside this perfect bubble.

Father Barnes spoke to you with that priestly voice of his, like he only had good intentions. Like he wasn’t here to fuck you, but guide you gently like you were a lost little lamb. It was comforting, that voice. Except right now, it only made you clench your thighs tighter together under the covers.

“I see.” You mumbled, faking the apologetic tone in your voice. All you wanted was to pull him down onto your bed and straddle him but if he wanted to play this little game, then fine. You could wait a little more. “But I’m safe with you, aren’t I? You’re here to make sure no one with ill intentions finds their way to me?”

You watched as he walked around the bed to come to the side, sat down on the edge of your bed and reached out to touch your cheek with his cold hand. “Of course, little lamb. You’re always safe with me.” He said, stroking your cheek. His hand was cold so you shivered against his touch, but didn’t pull away. He noticed and said, “Are you cold? Poor you, come here.” He patted his lap, “I’ll keep you warm, and safe. I promise.”

You wasted no time in getting out of the covers and finding your way onto his lap, straddling him and enjoying the way he groaned the moment your bare cunt brushed against his hard on. “Fuck,” You mumbled, unable to help yourself from grinding against him just once. Just to feel him between your thighs. It made your head all foggy.

“What is this?” He questioned, faking displeasure. “Is this what you wear to sleep? With the door unlocked? You’re practically naked.” He chided, fingers rubbing against your exposed back the moment he noticed you were wearing nothing but an excuse of a silky night dress, with the back open, the neckline dangerously low, and the length barely below your butt. “Good women don’t dress like this, you know? You’re a walking temptation. Is this what you want? To lure strange men into your home while your husband is away? Is that what this is?”

His hand found its way in between your legs, shamelessly toying with your wet folds and clit, making you whine and whimper as you ground your hips against his hand, seeking more.

“No,” You mumbled, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t do anything.” You whined as his finger slowly slid inside you. His other hand still stroking your back. This was all you wanted. To be here in his embrace.

Father Barnes chuckled, “Ah, see but you did. You lured me in. You tempted me.” He looked down and saw, with whatever minimal light was available, how his hand disappeared in between your thighs, and how your hips moved so perfectly, riding his finger. “Look,” He said, “Look at what you’re making me do.”

You moaned out loud when he slid another finger inside you, fucking you so slowly and perfectly that it felt like you might die. “But I–,”

“Shh,” He cut you off. “You should be thankful I’m not like other men. You see, they would just walk in and use you. But not me. You know me. You’re safe with me, remember?”

You nodded, shoving your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “Yes, Father Barnes.” You mumbled in between moans.

“That’s it, lamb. Just trust me, okay?”

Fuck.

Bucky couldn’t take this any longer. He enjoyed this little game but he needed you. So it didn’t take much for him to twist around and place you down on the bed and hover above you. The little light coming in from outside allowed him to see parts of you. Your parted lips, the hunger in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, the way your thighs cradled his body. Fuck. He could live in this moment forever.

“How many nights have you waited for me to just walk in here and play with you, hmm?” He lifted the hem of your night dress and sighed at the sight of your naked body.

You easily removed the night dress and threw it aside, your hands finding their way into his hair as you pulled him closer. “Too many to count.” You whispered, lips brushing against his mouth. “I need you, please.”

You were barely done talking when he lazily ran his fingers down your wet folds. You shivered under him, squirming on the bed.

“Look at you, so shamelessly wet.” He growled, grabbing your face in his other hand as he slid two fingers inside you and making you gasp and moan. “Does this feel good? Hmm? This is why you leave your door open, and dress like that at night, huh? All because you want some man to show up and touch you however he wants? Does that make you feel wanted?” He stroked you in all the right places and had you coming all over his fingers in no time.You whined and squirmed as he kept finger-fucking you through your orgasm.

He pulled away for a brief moment, taking his clothes off but leaving his boxers lowered just enough to free his erected cock. You watched as he stroked it once, twice before finding his way back in between your legs.

One of his hands found its way to your throat and he wrapped his fingers around it carefully as he stared into your eyes. “You’re gonna let me fuck you just that easily, huh? You’re that hungry for it? I found my way into your house at night, unexpected, and you’re not even gonna put up a fight?”

You were trembling with need. Unable to look away from his intense eyes as he guided the tip of his cock over to your clit and circled it, smearing his precum and your wetness around. You whimpered at the sensation. “Please…” You begged.

He chuckled, teasing you a bit more by just pressing the tip of his cock against your tight hole. Not pushing it in, just pressing ever so gently until you whined and clawed at his shoulders. “See how bad you want it? Is this how good women behave?” He taunted before pushing his cock inside you. “No they don’t,” He whispered as he slid all the way in, “This is how good little sluts behave.”

He remained still for a few moments, just relishing the feeling of your warmth around him. Your breath was shaky as you felt him fill you up and stretch you out so deliciously, snug deep inside you.

He stared at your face, contorting in pleasure. Then he chuckled, and the slightest friction made you whine even louder. “I feel good inside you, don’t I?” He teased, rolling his hips just the slightest bit against you. When you cried out in pleasure, he tightened his grip around your throat and said, “I know, I know it feels good. Desperate woman like you, this is all you needed, huh?” He whispered.

Fuck, he felt so good. You nodded, going along with whatever he said because it was so hot – his body, his words, his touch, the depravity of it all. “Yes,” You mumbled, so overcome with pleasure even though he hadn’t started fucking you yet that you felt like you could cry.

“Then tell me.” He said, “Tell me I feel good inside you.”

Another whine, and a gasp, then you mumbled, “You feel so good inside me, Father Barnes.” A pause then, “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, desperately.

Bucky didn’t want to wait another second, he couldn’t take it anymore either. His entire body felt like it was on fire as he started fucking into you hard and fast, not bothering to be nice to you. Not this time, not right now he couldn’t.

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you how good you felt. You could only respond with moans and whimpers, which only made him fuck you harder.

“That little head of yours is filled with filthy thoughts only, isn’t it? Seducing a priest,” He said in a tone of pretend discontent, “You should be punished for that.” He whispered in your ear, in a daze as he pounded into you. Your body squirmed under him, your back arching off the bed, chest pressing into his.

You must’ve wanted him closer still because Bucky let out a soft chuckle when he noticed you raised your trembling legs and wrapped them around his hips. Pulling him deeper into you, if that was possible.

“You want me closer? Want me to fuck you deeper, harder? Hmm? Is that what this is?” He taunted. “You just want to be my dirty, filthy, little slut? Huh? You never want me to stop?” He held your stare, pressing the sides of your throat as he fucked deeper into you.

He watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your moans getting louder, your body heating up beneath him, your walls clenching around his cock in that way he loved.

“Well then, you don’t get to come that easily.”

Those words brought you right back to reality, just when you were right on that edge.

“What?” You questioned in disbelief, but not doing anything to stop him as he pulled out, grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around onto your stomach.

“Bucky!” You cried out as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back with one hand. That earned you a smack on the butt. Hard. Stinging.

“That’s Father Barnes to you, you little slut.”

You moaned when you felt him guiding his cock back to your hole again.

He leaned over your back to whisper into your ear, sliding his cock inside you as he said, “You belong to me.” He said, like it was the most ardent prayer. He tugged on your pinned wrists, which made you whine in pain and pleasure. “So if you’re gonna leave the doors unlocked, and if you’re gonna wear these slutty things to bed, it’ll be only for me. You hear me?”

“Yes!” You agreed immediately, then yelped in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back into you from behind.

Then he began fucking you again, hard and fast. Mercilessly. Like an ancient god taking what was offered to him at his altar. Like it was his right. Like you were there, open and willing only for his taking. Rough. Raw. The pleasure was overwhelming.

“Come for me…”

And you did.

Not just that night, but every night which followed.

Each time you heard those stairs creak in the middle of the night, your heart would begin racing in anticipation. Because nothing was as exciting as indulging in what was forbidden.

But naturally, things couldn’t go on like this for long without some kind of hindrance.

Then there was that phone call.

Your husband called and a conversation was had which soured your mood for the rest of the day. To a point where not even Father Barnes could take your mind off things.

The two of you laid in your bed that night, both sweaty and damp and in dire need of showers but neither of you wanted to move so there you remained. Limbs tangled. Your head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeats. His hand rubbing your back, while the other traced random shapes all over your thigh.

“What is it?” He asked after a good half an hour of just cuddling in silence.

The room was dark, and it wasn’t raining so the silence was too loud to ignore.

“Nothing.” You answered.

Bucky sighed. Of course it wasn’t nothing. “Tell me,” He insisted.

“It’s… complicated.” You answered.

“Try. We’ll make sense of it together, I promise.” He used that priestly tone, one he knew worked with everyone.

A moment of silence later you said, “My husband called.” And Bucky’s heart dropped. Suddenly he felt cold, empty, deserted. Like something, someone had abandoned him. And he didn’t even know what your husband had said yet, but he could tell he wouldn’t like it.

“I see. Has he found out about us?”

A humourless chuckle from you meant that that wasn’t the case.

“Worse,” You spoke quietly, “He met up with our parents for lunch recently and… they mentioned wanting grandkids.”

Bucky pulled away instantly like your touch burned his skin. It was childish, he knew, to be this jealous when he was clearly in the wrong. He sat up on the edge of your bed, and tried to get his emotions under control.

He had no right to be angry. To feel betrayed. To feel sad.

“Don’t pull away from me. Please.” You whispered, kneeling behind him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him from behind.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the warmth of your skin. The feeling of your chest pressing against his back. The way you nuzzled his neck, leaving soft kisses all over his skin.

“Everytime I think I have you, I’m reminded that you belong to someone else.” He confessed. “And I have no right to be angry. Or expected anything from you.”

You sighed, letting your hands touch him all over his chest, caressing his shoulders, down his arms as you said, “I don’t belong to anyone but you. My husband and I… we talked about it earlier. We respect each other, but there’s no way we could get together like that. Maybe we can adopt. Or find a surrogate, but–,”

He cut you off, annoyed at the mere mention of another man. “There’s no place for me in your life.” He announced, calmly. “There is still time. We could put an end to this. Then perhaps you two could try and do right by your marriage and–,”

That calm tone pissed you off for some reason, “Oh stop trying to be all nice, calm, and priestly as if you weren’t fucking me like an animal just now!” You pulled away from him, glaring at the back of his neck even in the mostly dark room. “Do right by my marriage.” You scoffed. “Is that what you want?” You questioned, keeping your voice steady. “You want me to climb into my husband’s bed? Let him fuck me however he wants until–,”

You barely processed what was happening because that’s how fast he moved. One moment you were talking and the next his hand was around your throat and he was standing up, looking down at you still kneeling on the bed.

“Keep talking, come on.” He dared you, squeezing the sides of your neck. His voice was cold, and unlike anything you’d heard before.

Despite the chokehold, you smirked. “You don’t like the sound of that, do you, Father Barnes?” You taunted. “I’m just telling you how it’ll go.”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He growled.

You found yourself flat on your back again, with him above you. The little light available allowed you to see his silhouette. Broad and muscular, all that running made him just the right amount of lean.

He parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out easily. Bucky’s thoughts were all over the place. How dare you talk about sleeping with another man? How dare he get jealous? How dare you even think about having someone else’s kids?

There it was. The thing that bothered him the most. Someone else’s kids. Not his. And suddenly he was nothing but a man – not a priest, or a considerate human being, just a man.

“How fucking dare you?” He questioned, his cock buried so deep inside of you that he was certain neither of you could even think straight. “I give you everything,” He spoke through gritted teeth as he began fucking you, “I take care of you, I fuck you whenever you ask for it, and this is what I get in return?”

There was nothing gentle or passionate about him. He was wild, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear while you were a moaning mess under him. Skin slapping, breaths mingling, it was so hot. So hot and you couldn’t think.

“You belong to me.” He hissed in your ear; speeding up again. “I don’t care what the rules are, if you’re gonna carry a child it’ll be mine. Do you fucking hear me?”

Your heart raced at what he said. What about the consequences? What about his job? What will you tell your family?

But none of that mattered right now, not with his body weight on top of you, not with how perfectly his cock moved in and out of you. You whimpered desperately as he fucked you, relentlessly.

He sped up into you, whispering into your ear, “I can already see it… you with a bump, my child growing, and safe inside you.” He spoke in a haze, his voice deep and growly. “We’ll go far away from here, consequences be damned.”

You nodded, agreeing.

Bucky had never thought about laicization before. Never considered it as an option. Never wanted to. But now? Now things were different. Now he was determined to make you his. He wanted this now, he wanted to have this forever, have you forever.

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He slowed down just the slightest bit. He pulled away a little and stared down into your eyes. “You will be mine, forever. I promise you.” He whispered as he fucked deeper into you. “I’ll fix this, I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry about a thing, you hear me?”

He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing all your moans and mewls as he came inside of you. You felt his warm load shooting at your walls as he shoved his tongue past your lips. You cried out as that triggered your orgasm, and your walls clenched violently around him until you came undone as well.

Your brain was a foggy mess at this point.

He pulled his cock out of you and pulled away to reach for the bedside lamp, turned it on so he could admire you under him better.

A triumphant smirk appeared on his face as he stared at his cum leaking out of you while you panted under him, squirming still as you came down from your high and tried to control your breathing.

He slowly slipped his fingers back into you and watched how your face morphed into a frown as he fingered his cum back into you again, making you arch your back and whine in pleasure, “Please…” you whined, unsure if you wanted him to stop playing with your body or if you wanted him to make you cum again.

He didn’t care about how sensitive you were, he just needed to remind you that you belonged to him. He had to make sure you knew.

Bucky leaned in to kiss you again. “You will carry my child, won’t you, baby?” He whispered against your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “We’re gonna find a way to make this work. But you are not fucking leaving me, you hear that?” He growled against your lips as you came again.

He kissed your lips gently, then your closed eyelids, then he left a final kiss on your forehead before he laid beside you, leaving the light on, as he pulled you into his arms. You were limp, and quiet, possibly closer to sleep than consciousness.

Bucky on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking. He wanted this with you, he’d never been more sure about something in his life before.

Money was not an issue, he was always going to inherit everything his parents have anyway, and they’ve always begged him to come home and take over the businesses. The only issue would be your family and husband, but he was certain that although some difficult conversations would need to be had, things would be sorted soon enough.

Then you and him could start your new life.

He couldn’t wait.

—

A/n: I won’t be writing more parts for this series, I like to leave some things open-ended. Have fun imagining the rest, if you want, I’ll leave that to you <3 Thank you for loving Father Barnes as much as I did, see y’all in hell. I’ll wait by the gates ;)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au

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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

Text

"savior"

MDNI, sexual tension, "master geto," slightly obsessed reader (please stand up)

suguru geto x reader

Synopsis: you consider yourself to be geto’s most devoted follower, and what can he do but take advantage of your unyielding faithfulness

to sum it up: your love for and desire to please geto awakens the Master Manipulator in him

WC: 5,787

Warning(s): manipulation, suggestive themes, mentions of cult, glorification ['divine' comparisons bc its a cult]

The overwhelming silence that took the room did very little to ease your nerves as your head hung low in a bow, your figure kneeling in the middle of the room. Before you lounged your savior, the man you had admired and devoted your life to, albeit from afar, for years.

Suguru Geto peered down at you through warm brown eyes of curiosity, his genial smile beaming. You had struck him by pleasant surprise when you dropped down to your knees before him, preparing yourself to grovel or worship his presence.

Geto was quite familiar with the attention. His followers were devoted people, kissing upon the ground he walked on as though he were a prophet reincarnated. He was quite grateful to have his ambitions supported by such unbridled allegiance, but outside of his immediate companions and cult members, like his darling girls and his secretary, he hardly had the opportunity to encounter his more distant followers face to face.

He was a busy man, with pressing goals and aspirations. He had a new world to rebuild, and there remained an understanding that a significant space resided amidst the connection between himself and his followers. Rarely did they approach him privately with matters of their own to bring to his concern.

For that reason, he was intrigued by your candid boldness and your willingness to step outside of the general norm. You must have waited weeks to grab this opportunity when you saw it, for Manami had been keeping him busy with non-sorcerers’ requests for curse exorcisms. While he despised the interactions, he never turned down swiping a new curse into his possession.

The pink haired curse user had, in fact, warned Geto about a persistent follower trying to meet with him for months. He had proceeded to advise her to tell you that he would get to you when he could, which he had determined for himself would likely be never, but if he had known just how darling you were, desperate for even the quickest second to fawn over his greatness at his feet, he would have opened the door for you to peak in a long time ago.

Your heart was hammering with unease, the cool air growing hot around your skin as you closed your eyes, forehead pressed to the floor. Now that you had come this far, your body had failed you, unsure of how to respond to being so close to Master Geto. Your head was spinning and your mouth was running dry, all the words you had recited to yourself in the mirror for practice over and over again completely vanishing from your brain. You had been preparing yourself for this moment for longer than you could remember, and now that it was here, you were frozen.

“Stand.”

His command glided eloquently past his lips and resonated heavily within the space. Your body twitched before you rushed to push yourself off the floor, rising slowly to your feet and lifting your eyes up.

The image of him came to you once more. He was a work of art. He leaned against his fist, elbow propped over his wooden bench as he lounged on his side, smiling down at you. His robes draped regally over his large frame, dark hair cascaded down his back. His presence was warm and cool at the same time, consoling and refreshing yet fierce and unearthly. Your heart rejoiced within your chest at the sight of him in all his glory. He sat before you, truly, as a god on earth.

He looked so calm, almost happy to see you though the two of you had never met. You had always admired that about him, how he managed to speak to hundreds of people at once and simultaneously make it feel as though he had a personal affiliation with each and every one of them. It was in the way that he spoke, the way that he smiled, the way that those sharp eyes melted into softness each time he preached before you all, gaze dancing over the crowd. You knew well enough that it was a tactic he used to keep up with the image of himself that he’d built in accordance to your excited gazes, but you believed him to be so very kind for thinking of you all in such a way.

You found Geto Suguru to be quite generous, intelligent, and oh, so powerful. How could his followers not have loved him?

You didn’t dare to speak unless he encouraged you to out of sheer respect for all that he was. His eyes meeting yours was enough to keep you going for the rest of your life if that was all he decided to keep your brief meeting to, for you had never been blessed with the privilege to have all of his attention poured into you and only you. You felt as though you had been chosen, as if a bright white light were beaming down on you from above, isolating you for the sake of serving dutifully on Geto’s behalf. You would have weeped for joy if you hadn’t forced yourself to remain composed.

Geto looked over your frame, eyes snapping from your tightly clasped hands to your wide eyes and your stiff stance. You were such an anxious, timid thing, he found it hard to believe that you were a curse user who shared his desire to wipe the planet clean of all human beings. He excused your mannerisms because he knew they were inspired by his presence alone, which, while it was nothing new to him, struck him as endearing.

Perhaps it was because he had seen you before, standing proudly in a crowd of his worshippers. Though his eyes brushed over you all in general greeting, he had always been able to catch a glimpse of you off in the corner. You kept yourself at a distance, but you carried a look of pure captivation and awe on your face. Your lips always parted cutely and your eyes shining, moved by his words of holy defiance and corruption. He hardly cared who you were before, writing you off as yet another woman touched by her lust for his dominance, but now that you had gone so far as to pester his secretary for a chance to see him, to breathe the air surrounding him, to stand there wordlessly, awaiting his permission to talk, he couldn’t help but entertain your little obsession for the time being.

After all, you had caught him finally on a rare free day after having waited so patiently. As your Master, it was only polite for him to let you in.

“What’s your name?” was the first question he asked you, and your heart burst. Geto Suguru wanted to know who you were. He wanted to address you by your title.

How blessed, how lucky you were to be granted this gift.

You shifted on your feet, socks rubbing against the cool tile of the incense soaked space. Your shoulders broadened and your graceful lashes batted with amazed wonder.

“My name is (Y/n),” you answered swiftly, breathlessly, your voice a soft whisper. “But… you can call me whatever you’d like,” you were quick to add, your enchantment with and overwhelming desire to please Geto influencing your thoughts.

Now, he was amused. He tilted his head back against his knuckles. “Do you think you have to tell me something that I already know?” he asked, his tone dripping with sweet condescending. He hadn’t been offended, but he was curious to see how you would react to him reminding you of his pride.

You instantly paled, jaw dropping slightly. You looked mortified, brows curling in concern at the very notion that you may have insulted your salvation. “No,” you shook your head. “No, I’d never. I-” you stopped yourself, perhaps thinking that you were speaking too much. With the swift bow of your head, you clamped your mouth shut. “I apologize. That was foolish of me.”

The dark haired curse user wanted to laugh at your sensitivity. You were so cautious, so obedient and frail with your words. Perhaps you were a perfectionist, by the looks of how you stepped around yourself carefully. You wanted him to be pleased with you, that much was perfectly evident, and fortunately for you, he was already finding himself to be.

But he would have much rather watched you work harder for whatever it was you desired from him, to see what motivated you and how far you would go in order to achieve it.

“You are forgiven,” he waved his hand happily. “While I appreciate your respect, I would rather you sit up so that I can look and speak to you directly. Don’t kneel unless I say.”

Your eyes bounced up to his face before your body did, (e/c) circles buzzing with anticipation for his next orders. He met your gaze slyly, eyes locking with yours to monitor your steady movements, to make sure that you had listened. Then you were straightening your posture as fast as you could, hands clasped and posture pristine.

He grinned when he noticed. You liked being told what to do by him.

“Good,” he commended. “I heard you’ve been trying to get in contact with me face to face for quite some time now. Is that so?”

You nodded. “Yes, Master Geto. It’s true,” you affirmed politely.

The said man shifted his head, gaze mellowing at the sound of your well-mannered address. “I see. And what would it be that you seek?”

You opened your mouth to answer, brain scrambling to recall the speech that you had memorized for this very instance. You could feel a tremble in your clasped hands. You were so nervous, having been granted the chance to speak freely before Geto Suguru, the man who had promised to wipe your worries away to make space for a new world, free of torment, weakness, and curses. You owed him your entire life, your soul, your very being in return for his mercy. You wanted to be more for him, to be someone he could use or turn to when he needed, as a thank you for promising to change your life, but now as you stood before him while he awaited your wishes, you couldn’t think right.

“Well?” he pressed, and you gulped, looking off to the side.

“I…”

“I didn’t tell you to look away.”

You looked back up at him, panicked. His smile had relaxed itself as well as the muscles under his eyes, making him appear far more intimidating as he watched you intensely. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. Continue.”

He was so bossy. Much bossier than he was when speaking to his followers as a whole. He was utilizing his power, his effect on you to his advantage, ensuring that you did not fail to remember his authority over you.

And you were such a scared, compliant woman. He knew that whatever he ordered you to do, you would follow. He was sure you would have stabbed yourself in the heart with a sword if he had told you that it would make him happy, and it excited him. It thrilled him to think of just how subservient you were for him.

You breathed in, body tingling in response to his control. “I just… I wanted to t-tell you face to face… how much you mean to me,” you began slowly, clearing your throat bashfully. Keeping your eyes locked on him as you spoke was far more difficult than you had previously thought it would be.

His eye contact was so intense. His gaze pierced through you with no intention of moving, testing your commitment to his demand. You could feel your heart thrumming in your fingers, for his beauty was enough to knock you off of your feet and render you unconscious.

Geto said nothing, expression serene and still. You couldn’t tell if he was judging you, criticizing your every word and movement. He was impossible to read, and it only made you more nervous under his stare.

“Um…” you stammered. “I’ve… admired you ever since I heard about that incident years ago… with the village,” you confessed. “I hadn’t known who you were then, but I was amazed by how much bravery and strength it must have taken for you to do something like that… to defy what you were taught to fight back against the weak. Then when word spread of your name and your goal to cleanse the world of non-sorcerers, of cursed spirits, I knew I’d found a light at the end of the tunnel.”

Geto had heard countless praises of his strength in his time as a cult leader. Humans sniveling with gratitude, followers reaching for his hands and crying for his greatness, the fear of those intimidated by his prowess. He’d heard and seen it all, and he had grown rather numb to it, for his astonishing ego was inflated enough to put the size of the sun to shame. Those words had all blended into each other to sound just as pathetic as the last, only emphasizing his point that he was above most beings on this planet (when Gojo Satoru was not a part of the conversation).

Even so, the way you were speaking and appearing to him now with such innocent, raw love in your eyes and your voice, that shy voice tenderly expressing your initial calling to his cause, had Geto subconsciously separating you from the rest. You were just as pathetic and helplessly bewitched by him as all the others, but there was something in your doe-like eyes and sugary tone that had him admittedly taken by you.

In addition to your submissive nature, you had dressed up like a doll for him. Your floral sundress and daintily glossed lips complemented your demeanor well, bare legs smooth and shiny beneath the fabric. You were practically a present wrapped up for him at his doorstep, and he was sure that you had done so purposefully just for the sake of his aesthetic pleasure.

“You flatter me,” he hummed. “But I am now interested to hear what this ‘tunnel’ of yours is. What led you to me, then, hm? What hell have you seen?”

You were momentarily stunned by the question. “What… hell?”

“Many of my followers were lost souls who found their way under my lead. What have you come from?”

You pursed your lips, and Geto noticed that your eagerness to respond had dwindled.

Flashes of your violent father, your absent mother, the faded scars, the burning touches, the snap that revealed your ability to manipulate and weaponize your cursed energy crossed your mind. Then the screams, the blood, the pure feeling of release.

“Non-sorcerers,” you murmured shamefully. “They know how to wound even without jujutsu.”

The sage eyed man before you watched it all show itself on your face and how it slightly fell and he calmed. “That they do,” he agreed, slowly lifting his head and rising to his feet.

You watched him silently, his hands meeting the other within his robe’s large sleeves. You had never noticed how tall he was before.

“But, only because they don’t know how else to cope with their own weakness.”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes,” he repeated, stepping down from his mat and approaching you slowly. Your breath hitched in your throat as he came closer, the temperature within your body rising. He stopped just a few feet before you, smiling gently. “Still, I’m not sure I understand what it is you want from me yet.”

You shivered, having never seen his face so clearly. His eyelashes were long, beautiful whisps and his milky skin smooth. His black gauges twinkled in the fluorescents of the soft light above, the floral shine of his wallpapers accentuating the glow. Gentle creases under his eyes showed from exhaustion or stress, and his shiny hair was so black it almost looked green.

He was breathtaking.

“It’s not what I want from you, Master Geto,” you revealed slowly. “You’ve already done so much for me… for all of us, I could never ask you for more.”

“Is that so?” he tilted his head. “Then why are you here?”

Your heart was in your throat now, banging against the barrier of your flesh and rattling your head. You couldn’t look away from his eyes, not even if you wanted to. “I’m here because… because I want to be… I want to do something for you.”

Geto’s brows lifted, his words kindling a thrill within him. “Oh?”

You were flushing, shifting on your feet again and twisting your fingers up in your hands. He found the sight all too amusing, all too invigorating. You had waited all this time just to see him and tell him that you wanted to submit even more to his will and to his desires. How much more perfect could you get?

“I wanted to… I… well…” your eyes flickered away just a moment, but it was long enough for Geto to catch.

He reached out a curved index finger from his sleeve, nudging it beneath your chin and guiding your eyes back to his. “Remember, keep your eyes up when you speak to me,” he reminded firmly yet kindly, as if the action itself were harmless.

You stammered, his touch sending shock waves running all down your body. His finger was just as soft as his tone of voice, his generosity boundless in his contact. You couldn’t believe that you were getting the chance to experience it for yourself.

“That’s better,” his arms crossed. “Go on, angel. What do you want to give me?”

Angel.

You could have passed out right then and there, dropped to his feet and kissed them graciously. So generous. That name he gave you was so generous.

“I just- I know you have a secretary, and I’m sure she’s lovely, but if there’s anything that you need or any service that you’ve wanted, I would be so honored to be that for you,” you exhaled, eyes glimmering and cheeks warm. “I could give you my shikigami. You could use me as a pawn for any of your upcoming plans. I could run your errands. I could- I would do anything you want. I just want to repay you… I want to help you, I want to please you, as your devoted follower. If there’s anything. Anything at all,” you declared.

Geto was smiling again, eyes tender and lidded as he listened to your begging. You were beautiful in such a way, standing before him and mustering up the courage to tell him that you were willing to put your life in his hands to make him happy.

He liked you in this state. He liked you overall. You were a breathtaking woman, absolutely gorgeous, and you were even more so as you stared up at him pleadingly, just as he deemed you should have been. He decided this was what you were meant to do, what your state of being should have been chalked up to. How could it not have been, when you looked so lovely as a thing for him to play with, to take advantage of, to use?

You were so kindhearted, he hardly believed that you had experienced some kind of trauma to bring you to his cult as a curse user. You had been faithful to him for so long, since the beginning of his journey to higher power, in fact, yet you had lingered from afar, admiring quietly in the dark until now.

You must have been tired of waiting, tired of keeping your appetite for his direct manipulation of you to yourself. You wanted him to see you, and he certainly did.

He saw your soft (s/c) skin, the hint of your cleavage peeking out from the low neckline of your dress, the wobble in your legs as you grew weaker for him. You were precious, and his hunger for playing your little game was growing insatiable.

You grew scared when he did not reply to your confession right away. He only continued to look at you, his expression still unreadable. Had you been too forward? Had you asked for something he was not willing to allow? Was he angry with you now? Would you be casted out for your boldness?

You knew you had been taking a risk by requesting to meet with him alone. You understood that whatever happened after you brought your proposal to him would be out of your control, for all you had wanted was the chance to bring it forward and to get your thoughts off your chest. You wanted him to at least know that you would always be there, as a follower, as an admirer, as his most devoted. You wanted him to see your face, at least, to be able to remember you if he needed to. Whether he rejected you or not was up to him, and though you would have understood if he were to turn you down, you feared his denial of you above all else.

To your surprise and hope, however, he did not turn you away.

There was a noticeable shift in his aura as he moved in closer. You held your breath, unsure of what was to happen next.

“You want to… please me, is that it?” he asked for clarification, though he was fully aware of what you wanted.

He brushed past your shoulder, the fabric of his robes rubbing against your arm as his figure rounded yours. You froze in your spot, keeping your eyes and body facing forward. You could feel him at your side, moving behind you, crossing over. His feet padded lightly against the floorboards, the sound of his steps almost nonexistent. He carried himself so lightly, as if he were brushing by on a gentle gust of air, or as though he were the encapsulation of the breeze itself.

You were having a hard time figuring out a way to respond to him. Your mind was entirely too occupied with the awareness of his movements, the scent of sandalwood and jasmine clinging to his body and invading your senses.

Just then, you suddenly noticed how private this room was. His secretary was nowhere to be found, and it was only getting later in the day as afternoon melded into early evening. Normally, Geto was surrounded by his cult members or clung to by Manami, but here and now, it was oddly empty.

Your body twitched when you felt his warmth capturing the left side of your body. You could feel him hovering from behind you, stopping to bow himself close to the back of your ear. He was disrupting whatever line that had been drawn between his personal space and yours, and you weren’t sure why.

The silence blared loudly as he leaned down to you. “Is that it?” he repeated lowly, words hitting the back of your neck enticingly. Goosebumps sprouted instantly across your neck, the hairs on your arm standing.

You nodded, your voice small. “Yes.”

A hum vibrated through his chest, smile stretching into a smirk. “And what makes you think I need you to please me?” he grinned, leaning so that you could see a peak of his face peering over you. You craned your neck to look up at him, skin tingling once more. “Or that I don’t already have people to do that?”

“I don’t think that,” you whispered. “But I can be more.”

He clicked his teeth, eyes roaming over you shamelessly. That kindness you had seen moments before in his eyes had faded into something more carnal, more acute and greedy. His brows angled as well.

“You’re so forward to be so shy.” He slipped a hand over your right shoulder, brushing your hair out of your way and moving it to your back. You tried your hardest to keep yourself together, for you were beginning to falter under his frequent contact. “What ‘more’ could you possibly be, angel? Hm?”

You felt fingers crawl their way over the fabricate of your hips faintly and your mind went blank. They inched forward, experimentally slithering over your waist. Your breathing grew heavy, lashes fluttering against your cheeks and brows curving in confusion. You did not even have the courage nor the capacity to question why his hands were suddenly sneaking up your waist, thumbs and palms soothing over the small of your back in slow circles.

You looked down, catching a glimpse of his slender digits wrapping over you. “M-Master, Geto-”

“You know what I think, (Y/n)?” he interjected carelessly. “That is what you said your name was, right?”

Before you could confirm, he was latching his fingers into you and yanking you back into his chest. You gasped out, hands unclasping and arms hovering uncertainly in the air.

“I think that you just want an excuse to touch me.”

“Master-” you stuttered, head tucked under his chin. You could feel every pattern in his breath against you, how calmly he breathed in and out, his sculpted abdominals making themselves known through the layers of your clothes and the contact against your back. Geto snaked his arms slowly around your waist, hands feeling over your stomach. “I’d never,” you spoke through a strained breath.

The thought crossed your mind that he was testing you, pushing the boundaries to see if you would fold under pressure. You hadn’t believed Geto to be interested in mischief such as that prior to this meeting, but you assumed that any proud and successful leader would put the will of their followers to the test.

“Don’t lie to me, now,” he teased. “I can feel you easing into me.” His hands moved higher, over your abdomen and across your ribcage as he caressed the soft fabric of your dress. “You dressed all nice to see me, too. In this frilly little thing. You want something more from me, I can tell.”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” he pressed, fingers ghosting over the outline of your breasts. You jolted, a whine catching in your throat as his other arm kept you secured to him.

“No,” you whined.

“Then you admit it,” he hummed. “Or else you would have shown up wearing a bra.”

Your heart dropped. You hadn’t meant to make it appear as though you wanted to seduce him. While you had dressed up to make him happy, you had no idea that he would catch the fact that you actively and frequently chose not to wear bras. You hated to think that he believed you to have malicious intentions, especially when you thought so highly of him. Maybe this hadn’t been a test after all. Perhaps you had simply messed up.

“Please, I didn’t mean to make you think that I-” the sweep of his lips over your neck stole the words from your mouth and your lips parted involuntarily as his hand carefully cupped around your clothed tit. You shook against him, guilt rising as you struggled to battle between your body’s immediate reaction to his touch and your mind’s disapproval.

Geto Suguru was your savior. He was more than a man or a curse user, he was your world. Your life. While thoughts of him in an intimate light had crossed your mind countless times, you kept those fantasies barricaded within the confines of your imagination. You respected Master Geto too much to put yourself in a promiscuous situation with him. You hardly even believed that he would engage in such activities so freely, and especially not with members of his following.

You must have truly offended him to have inspired him to behave in such a way. How could you have been so foolish to allow your buried desires to show so easily? You had thought that you were behaving respectfully, but you had lied to yourself, and now at the expense of Geto’s composure.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, head rolling back as his lips met the shell of your ear softly, swiftly. This was so wrong, so wrong for you to have clumsily done. To have his godly hands upon you was a sin in itself, for you were hardly worthy of such a thing and you had thrown yourself at him, as Geto clearly showed you.

You would never forgive yourself. Not only because you had placed him and yourself into this position, but because you could not bring yourself to pull away.

“You should be,” he kissed your neck, a soft nip. His fingers searched the plush of your breast generously until they found your nipple. He grinned against your skin, pinching the bud of flesh gently, teasing it between the tips of his slender digits. You sucked in a breath, head rolling back onto his shoulder. “Now, would you look at that?”

“Please,” you whimpered, lips puckering forward. Your back arched against him, body writhing within his grasp.

“You impede on my free time after months of pestering my poor secretary, all for you to selfishly make demands that would only, in the end, serve you,” he mumbled deviously, rolling over your nipple in a slow, gradual motion.

You bit down on your lip, fighting against the mewls that were building up in your throat, seeking release. You were determined not to reveal yourself more than you already had, but the task was proving impossible.

The thickness of the tips of his fingers massaging your tit sent an ache throbbing between your thighs. You pressed them together tightly, trying your best to keep your true desires concealed.

His hand released your breast and moved over your neck, hands cradling your bottom jaw delicately. “How do you think that makes me feel?” he mumbled seductively into the crook of your neck, guiding your head over to the side.

You trembled pathetically. “I’m sorry,” you apologized once more, body relaxing against him once his hand had moved from your chest. “I didn’t come to you for- for this. I really do want to be there for you.”

“Personally?”

You couldn’t deny him. “...Yes.”

“And you expect me not to think that you’re after sexual favors,” the dark haired man grumbled, pressing plush kisses to the back of your neck.

“I-If that was what you asked of me, I would give it to you. If you let me,” you admitted, voice shaking as you spoke. He hummed in approval again, the sound rumbling against your skin deliciously. “But I’m here because I love you, Master Geto. I want my love to mean something.”

Geto lifted his head, looking over your shoulder to meet your eyes. “You love me.”

The phrase came out as a statement, wrapped in arrogance and lust yet somehow still with that hint of generosity pushing through, keeping you engaged with his manipulation.

Your pupils blew wide, wet lips parting to affirm confidently. “Very much.”

He kept your gaze, and you felt his arm around your waist move. Your brows furrowed as the sensation of his hand sliding down your stomach and over your thighs melted your brain. You had believed your declaration to be enough to excuse your behavior, but you were proven wrong when his fingers reached for the bottom of your dress and danced their way over your thin panties.

Your eyes flew to find the sight in panic when he tapped his fingers against your cheek. “Don’t make me tell you to keep your eyes on me again,” he warned.

His fingers blindly pried your legs apart from each other, the strength in his single hand alone astonishing you. He had you drowning in his brown eyes, forcing you to rely on the unexpected touch of his fingers over your underwear.

You could feel him swipe over your throbbing bundle of nerves, your underwear dampening in reaction to the very sensation. Your breaths picked up in pace, chest rising and falling under his touch. Geto’s smile stretched wider, eyes slimming into hazy vision.

“You love me enough to let me do this?” His finger pressed down over your clit, the pressure sending waves of pleasure to your brain. You raised a finger to your teeth to hold back the moan you were choking over, but he caught your wrist before you could do so. “Hm, angel? Enough for this?”

Geto pressed his middle finger down with his index, lazily rubbing circles over your throbbing sex. A gentle moan broke past you against your wishes, settling into the silent atmosphere like an enthralling note of music. He ducked down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, his fingers curling over your clit in a dizzying rotation.

Your lashes fluttered, dent between your brows pinching.

“Answer me,” he demanded, and you were sap at his hands.

“Yes. S’much. Love you so much, you can do anything,” you exhaled desperately, hips bucking sharply up against his hand. “I’ll let you do anything.”

Geto grinned.

He ripped his hand from your underwear, smoothing your dress back over your legs and lowering his hand from your jaw. You blinked weakly, mind trapped in a daze as he pulled away from you and stole the warmth along with him.

He turned over his shoulder, walking back over to his mat. You watched him in confusion, unstable on your own feet, wondering what had just happened. You stumbled before straightening yourself, looking up at him needily.

Once he was settled back down by his bench, elbow propped up and legs sprawled out, he smiled kindly again. He looked as though nothing had just happened, as if he hadn’t touched you, kissed you, breathed you in so sensually.

You were lost, folding your trembling hands over your thighs in a feeble attempt to get yourself back together. Had it been a test after all?

“I like you,” he abruptly, yet casually, announced. You swallowed hard, nervous all over again.

“...Thank you, Master Geto…”

“Since you waited all this time,” he started amiably, “I’ll grant your wish.”

Your face dropped, shocked joy overtaking you. “You will?”

“Of course, angel. How could I deny someone as devoted as you?”

A bright smile broke across your face, expression alit with pure happiness. “Thank you! Thank you, Master Geto,” you praised. “What is it I can do for you? How can I serve you?”

His lips stretched into a wide beam, brown eyes glinting with an inexplicable hunger. He patted his thigh twice, beckoning you over. “Come sit on my lap, and I’ll show you.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #anime #geto x reader #jjk #jjk fandom #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #jjk 0 #jjk 0 movie #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jjk geto suguru #geto smut #afab reader

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rebelliousstories · 5 months ago

Text

Ain’t That A Pretty Sight

Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Suggestive Themes, Drinking, Pregnancy

Word Count: 3,265

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: This is the story of how Cooper fell in love with his wife again, Janey is really excited, and Barb makes this about her.

“Honey, I’m home!” There was silence as she stepped inside. The entire time that she had been living with the enigma of a man known as Cooper Howard, the house had never been silent. Setting down the bags of groceries in the kitchen, she left them in favor of looking for her husband. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, even though the T.V. was still playing in the den. Moving up the stairs, she heard a noise, but could not confirm who was making it.

Checking in their room, she was disappointed to see it empty. But then she heard that same noise again, coming from the room across from theirs. Janey’s room. She made her way to her stepdaughter’s bedroom and pushed open the cracked door. Lying down on the floor with the young girl, was her husband. And in his hands, was a doll. It warmed her heart to see Cooper playing with his daughter, doing different voices for the dolls and what not. They were in their own little world for a while as she continued to watch them, but Janey looked up and caught her.

“Honey!” The young girl jumped up and ran to tackle the woman in a hug. Rolling, Cooper just watched his girls for a moment before he decided to get up. While honey was not the woman’s name, Janey still called her that after watching her dad do it so often.

“Have you been having fun, miss Janey?” She asked of her stepdaughter, not quite wanting to let the girl go yet. Janey was the first to pull away and nodded vigorously.

“Daddy has been playing with me the whole afternoon. It’s been fun.” Cooper finally made his way over to his wife to pull her in close. As Janey went back to her dolls, the Howard’s shared a loving kiss as they wrapped up each other in their arms.

“Hey honey. Was everything okay at the doctors?” He ran his hand up and down her back as he kept her close.

“Yeah. Just a little something I gotta discuss with you. But it can wait.” She reassured him, even though that look on his face said otherwise.

“I got to put the groceries away. Just wanted to see where you were.” Reluctantly, Cooper let us wife go back downstairs to do what she was doing, and went back to his daughter. His mind raced as he tried to think about what she could possibly be waiting to tell him.

Meanwhile downstairs, Mrs. Cooper was busy making dinner for that night. She was making enough for all three of them, even though she did not know when her husband’s ex-wife would be stopping by to pick up their daughter. Still, she wanted Janey to have enough to eat if she was going to be late. There was a full spread out on the table within the hour, and she was calling out for her husband and stepdaughter to join her in the dining room.

Eagerly, Janey began talking about her day with her dad. Becuase she had her doctor’s appointment and a few other errands to run, Cooper had thankfully taken the day off from work. It made everything a lot easier to flow throughout her day, especially the appointment. As they ate, her hand drifted over to Cooper’s as her nerves started to show. The later it got, the more she grew nervous.

A knock at the front door broke all of them out of their conversation. Cooper dismissed himself from the table, and went over to the door while she began to reengage Janey in the conversation. Hushed, clipped voices were heard from the front of the home, and footsteps followed shortly afterwards.

“Janey, your momma’s here.” Both girls at the table turned to where Cooper had reemerged with Barb next to him. Janey shot up out of her chair, much like she did earlier, and went to go hug her mom.

“Hi Barb.” She greeted, standing from her seat.

“Hello.” Barb’s voice was clipped as she spoke to the woman, which was not unusual for them. No matter how many times she tried to get along with Barb, for everybody’s sake, the woman refused to so much as give her a polite smile.

She sent a tight lipped grin to her husband, before beginning to clear the table. Plates were placed in the kitchen sink to take care of, as she heard the three other people in the house talking. Her hands and mind were kept occupied by the mundane task of cleaning the dishes from dinner as she did not want to intrude on their conversation. Small footsteps made their way into the kitchen and she turned to face Janey.

“Bye Honey.” The child said innocently, wrapping her arms around the woman sweetly.

“Oh, goodbye sugar cube. I’ll see you next week, okay?” She reassured, and only let go when Janey did. The girl left and went to her mom once more, who only stared at the woman still crouched with disdain.

Rising up, she waved them off while Cooper walked them out. Turning back to the dishes, she kept going about her routine while trying not to think too hard about Barb and her nature towards her. Finally she was able to place the dishes on the drying rack while hearing heavy footsteps grow closer. Arms wrapped around her waist while she was placing the last dish down.

“Now, ain’t that a gorgeous sight.” Cooper drawled, pressing himself against her back and resting his head on her shoulder.

“You’re just being partial.” She retorted, wiping her hands off and resting them on top of her husband’s.

“Want dessert?” She turned in his arms to face him with a smirk.

“Whatcha giving me?”

“Gin martini.”

“Well, then yes. I’d love dessert. Although I’d love it more if you were paired with the martini.” A husky whisper was placed in her ear right as she went to go leave.

“Mr. Howard!” She exclaimed, turning and looking at her husband with a shocked look on her face at his words. He just smiled innocently at her in return.

“What?” Cooper’s tone was so innocent, she was almost able to think that he did not mean anything by that comment. But the little smirk he gave her was enough to tell her that he knew exactly what he meant. Chuckling, she went over to their mini bar in the living room while Cooper made his way to the sofa. He patted his thighs as she neared with only one drink in hand.

“Thank you dalrin’. But where’s yours?” Cooper inquired while taking a sip of the drink his wife made for him.

“Not in the mood for a drink tonight.” She shrugged offhandedly. Cooper was confused and set the glass down on the table to wrap abound his wife.

“Alright now,” he started, “you told me earlier that you had something that could wait to talk about. You’re not having a drink even though I just bought a new thing of that grenadine that you love so much. So what’s going on?”

“Well, I wanted to tell you alone because I wasn’t sure how Janey would take it. Let me go grab something.” She pressed a kiss to his head as she hopped off of his lap. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out a little white envelope that held a very important piece of paper inside. Making her way back over, she sat in her husband’s lap once more, and gave the envelope to him. Cooper looked at the item in his hands with a skeptical glance before looking at his wife.

“Go on. Open it.” Her excited expression prompted the man to follow suit. His hands retracted the rest in between them and began to tear through the paper envelope. There was another piece of paper in the envelope that Cooper pulled out. He glanced at his wife before beginning to read the paper in his hands.

Her nail found its way to her mouth as she tried not to bite down nervously on her freshly done manicure. The longer she waited, the more doubt crept into her. What if he was upset? What if this forever changed them and they would never recover? Cooper’s jaw fell as he neared the edge of the page, and he finally looked at his wife. His knuckles were white as they gripped the paper.

“Is this real?” He whispered, eyes focused solely on hers. She nodded, and that was when life became a blur.

Cooper disregarded the sheet of paper and picked her up in his arms as he stood. The pure laughter that left his body as he held her close made her also laugh out of reflex. He spun them around, unable to contain his excitement over the news. Setting her down gently, Cooper grabbed his wife’s waist and pulled her in close to kiss her senseless. The only reason they separated was the lack of oxygen, and she was utterly stunned by the reaction from her husband.

“So, you’re happy?” She asked timidly. Her hands began to play with his shirt buttons while she dipped her head down. Gentle fingertips brought them back up, and now she was face to face with him again.

“I’m over the moon, darling. You’ve given me the most perfect gift I could have ever asked for. How far along?” Cooper ran his hands all over her midsection, unable to help himself.

“Eleven weeks. I want to wait before telling anyone else. I mean, if you want to tell Janey when we get her next week, we can. But everyone else can wait.” She patted his chest, and leaned in for a kiss. He greatly appreciated it, but pulled away fast.

“We’ve gotta set up a nursery.” Cooper suddenly proclaimed. She giggled at the eagerness of her husband and they spent the night talking about everyone for their little baby.

Almost two months later, it was once again their week with Janey. Telling the girl that she was going to become a big sister felt like a relief, and she was so excited. Janey had helped her dad put together the crib, paint the walls, and decorate the area. They still had yet to get a changing table in, but she was only four months along; they had plenty of time.

Hooves clomping and chatter from outside in the pasture became louder and louder, prompting her to poke her head outside. The Howard duo had just returned from another function, and they were eagerly talking about it. As soon as they came inside, Janey gave a quick hug and hello to her stepmother, and little sibling, before running up the stairs to go wash up. Cooper, however, was a little more nonchalant about washing up for dinner.

“Uh uh. No sir, Mr. Howard. You are going to wash before I vomit and ruin my appetite.” Mrs. Howard pushed her husband away who tried to come in for a hug and a kiss.

“Mr. Howard, huh? We back to using last names, darling?” He teased, trying again to step forward and give her affection. But she just pushed him away and to the stairs.

“You want me to use your first name, then you better go wash. I’m serious, Coop. The smell.” She complained, but was relieved when her husband obliged and left for their room upstairs.

Several minutes went by before Janey returned. It was clear that she had only washed her hands and face, as well as changing into new clothes, but it was a big improvement on the smell of horses and sweat that bothered her. The girl was helping place food and plates on the table, when the doorbell rang.

“Have your daddy finish when he gets out here. I’ll go get the door.” The woman instructed, and made her way over to the front door. Pulling it open, she was a little surprised to see Janey’s mom here this early in the evening. She called out for the little girl to come to the door, who greeted her mother warmly. Soon she was taking off for her room to grab her things that she would be bringing to her mom’s house. Which left the two women there awkwardly.

“How are you doing today, Barb?” She tried to start, but the woman was not having it.

“How far along are you?” Barb quipped, her tone sharp and clipped.

“Um, just made it to eighteen weeks. We go in soon to find out the gender.” Her tone was happy, as compared to Barb’s. But for some reason, the joy was not shared.

“Is it Coop’s?” There was the reason. Taken aback by the invasive and offensive question, she was not quite sure how to respond to that.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” She stuttered, gripping the side of the door to control herself.

“And are you sure that Cooper is ready for another kid? At his age? He’s done with that part of his life. He already has Janey. And Janey, how is she going to feel once you have the baby and aren’t showing her as much attention. Besides, if you two don’t have godparents for the child, they’ll end up growing up alone if something happens to you two.” Stunned was all she felt. There was a sense of numb that washed over her body as she took in the woman’s words. Barb said all of that with such confidence that it almost made her second guess this whole pregnancy.

“Barb, what are you doing here so early?” Cooper came up behind his wife and placed an arm around her waist so that his hand rested on her stomach.

“Picking up Janey and discovering this… situation. You never told me.” She spoke smoothly, while the current Mrs. Howard was panicking inside.

“Well, we just didn’t want anything to happen and have us say something too soon. But, yes Barb, we’re expecting a baby in a few more months. Janey is really excited about being a big sister.” He reassured the woman, rubbing soothing circles into the side of his wife’s belly.

“Oh, Janey knows already?” The shock on Barb’s face was almost enough to make her feel good.

“Yep. She’s super excited. I think she may be more excited than us to have this baby.” Cooper joked, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple as she was starting to come out of her stupor.

“Is this really the best thing for you, Coop?” There it was again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He countered, not willing to back down to his ex-wife.

“Well, with your age and already having an older child, is this really the best course?” Barb shifted her weight from foot to foot while crossing her arms.

“Barb, I was in my early fourties’ when Janey was born, and a lot of people think that’s too old. I like being a dad, and I can’t wait to have another baby.” At that moment, Janey came running down the stairs with all her stuff ready to go. The adults did not talk much after that, choosing to focus on the child instead of anything else. She said a quick goodbye to her father, stepmother and baby sibling before going along with her mom to where her car waited.

As soon as Barb left, she felt like she could breathe again. Making her way into the kitchen, she finished setting the table and began dishing out food before any more conversation could come up. Of course, Cooper noticed the odd way his wife was acting throughout dinner, but he figured that she would come to him when she was ready.

After dinner, the woman hurriedly collected the plates and dishes to clean them, leaving Cooper at the table confused. This went beyond normal pregnancy hormones being out of balance. He waited a moment, before getting up and going to the kitchen where she stood over the sink full of dishes. She was busy scrubbing away, and flinched when her husband’s hands wrapped around her middle and pulled her close.

“Ain’t this a pretty sight.” He drawled, peppering kisses down her neck and shoulders; wherever he could reach.

“What, Coop?” She retorted, not pausing her task in spite of the affection.

“Well, just my beautiful wife being all domestic. Washing dishes after she made her husband a scrumptious meal, round with my child. It does something to a man.” Cooper’s voice dropped down low and gravely, which she knew he knew that was her weakness. Anytime his voice got like that, she was not able to think clearly anymore.

“What’s got you so bothered tonight, momma?” He rested his head against her shoulders, and felt how tense they were.

“It’s nothing. Just stuff Barb said.” When she tried to resume her dishes, Cooper took them out of her hands and spun her around. Her back to the sink, and her eyes downcast as she was unable to look at him in the eyes. But gentle fingertips fixed that real quick.

“Now what could she say that would get you this bummed?” He was super concerned for his wife’s wellbeing; normally she would not put any validity into the words that woman said.

“She asked me if the baby was yours, and then went on a spiel about how you probably didn’t want another kid. Or how Janey was going to feel left out with a baby in the house. And even how she would not care what happens to the baby if something were to happen to us. I mean, who makes a pregnancy not related to them about them.” Tears began to well up inside hers eyes as she let her mind race with thoughts that she was voicing out loud.

“Oh, darling. Come here.” Cooper pulled her in close and pushed her face into his chest. She cried hard, and all he could do was keep consoling her. He let her get out everything that was bothering her in that moment, and never once tried to rush her. It took several minutes for her sobs to die down enough that she could be intelligible.

“Now, I want you to listen and listen well, darling,” Cooper spoke softly as he held her close. “I don’t want you to listen to a thing that woman says. She’s just bitter. I know that baby’s mine because I know that you would never do that to me. You know that Janey might be more excited than us to have a new member of the family, and you know damn sure that we’ll figure out a contingency plan for our child when we get there. You’re only five moths along, just over halfway. You still got some cookin’ to do for that little bun.”

She giggled lightly as his southern accent came forth more and more the longer he talked. Taking this as a good sign, he pulled away just enough to see her face. Keeping one hand around her body, he brought the other to wipe at her face, drying the remaining tears.

“I love you so much, darling. And this little bundle we’re gonna have in our arms in a few months? I’m gonna fall in love with you even more.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her lips, and wrapped her back up in his arms. once they pulled away again, she smiled genuinely since before dinner.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x oc #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins #Walton goggins imagine #Walton goggins x reader

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

Note

Hiiiii! Could you please write a fic where Donna takes reader to a lord’s meeting to help control Angie and Alcina and Karl start hitting on Reader to tease Donna, making Donna gettin really jealous so she ends up trying to state her claim on Reader by getting her pregnant. And if you’d like maybe Donna announcing to the Lord’s & Miranda that reader is pregnant and Karl & Karl teasing her about her jealousy?

Yesss!!!!! Thanks for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :))))

How to make you hers

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, dark Donna, jealousy...

Word count: 5,980

Summary: Maybe to go to that meeting wasn't a good idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Where are you?” You asked humming, walking slowly through the living room, looking for the Angie doll, like almost every afternoon.

Definitely, playing hide and seek with a possessed doll was not the strangest thing that had happened to you in the last few months, although it might seem that way.

It was even stranger when the village merchant, the Duke, hired you to be his assistant, arguing that you might have a future in the business world. How ironic, no one could have a future in that cursed village.

It was even stranger when your new job led you to meet the most authority figures, and emerge unscathed in the process. The few villagers who had the privilege of being close enough hadn't had much luck, and that included friends and acquaintances of yours.

And if something even stranger could happen, it was meeting one of those shadowy Lords, Donna Beneviento. She was a dark, sick and lonely woman, who saw your presence as a threat at first and little by little, as a necessity. Her shadowy figure, her hoarse voice, and the puppet she used to express her emotions were a combination of factors that also caught your attention.

But no, none of that was the strangest thing that had happened to you. The strangest, most extraordinary thing that had happened in your life was precisely finding yourself madly in love with the lady in black, almost as much as her, or even more. Those short meetings stopped being short, those talks stopped making no sense. Angie was no longer a speaker, but a complement.

Everything happened so quickly, but in such an intense way, that you soon forgot even to return home after visiting the old estate. There was a moment, the moment when that strange love materialized in the form of discovery, the moment when Donna lifted the black veil from her face so you could admire her beauty and throw her insecurities away, with your first kiss. At that moment you knew that you would no longer return to your old home.

Of course, you never forgot who you were kissing, who you were caressing. She was a Lord, a dangerous and terribly jealous woman. You couldn't blame her for being that way, not after knowing her past, her present, and not after wanting to be part of her future. That toxic possessiveness wasn't a problem for you. You understood her motives, although you had a hard time adjusting at first.

For Lady Beneviento you were a beam of light in the darkness, but also a new concern. Neither her scar nor her body was a reason for fear, for shame, not anymore. At the moment your lips expressed your love there was only one thing she feared, there was only one thing that made fear itself tremble, losing you.

“Come on... Come out of hiding... You've beaten me...” You sighed, tired of looking for the puppet all over the house.

Well, at least Angie had an easier time adjusting to your presence. The puppet had found in you an unbeatable playmate.

A nervous giggle reached your ears and formed an evil smile on your face, making you crouch down in front of one of the tables in the room, checking to see if the puppet was there.

“Ah!” You scream when a cold hand landed on your shoulder, causing you to jump and hit your head on the furniture in a comical way. When you stood up, rubbing the spot where you hit yourself, you realized who had scared you, Donna.

“Are you hurt?” She asked with that soft voice, the voice that betrayed the insane time she spent alone in her doll workshop. You smiled, like every time you saw that tender look, that fragility only you were capable of loving.

“No, I don't think so,” you said, playing it off, verifying that the blow was nothing else than that. “You’ve scared me.”

“I'm sorry,” Donna whispered, lowering her head, which you prevented by raising her chin with two fingers and leaning in to kiss her softly, which made the lady sigh in relief.

“Don't worry,” you whispered into her lips, turning them into a tender smile, accompanying that gesture of affection with a soft grip on her waist. “Are you finished with the dolls?”

The lady nodded, without erasing that splendid smile from her face, feeling comfortable in your embrace, exploring your skin with her hands in a curious way, as if she couldn't quite believe that you were there, that you loved her, that someone could loved her. .

“I have something for you,” she said, moving away from you a bit and handing you what looked like a golden chain with a medallion hanging from it, a small medallion with the symbol of House Beneviento. You took it with a grateful smile and examined it more closely. It was a beautiful necklace.

“Wow... It's so nice...” You whispered, running your fingers over the medallion. Her expression cooled a bit, betraying incipient concern.

“Don’t you like it?” She asked worriedly, to which you nodded profusely, putting that idea out of her head, hoping this time it wouldn't be as complicated as others.

“I love it, Donna. Come on, help me put it on,” you said amused, turning around and brushing your hair away from your neck.

The doll maker sighed again, wrapping her delicate hands around your neck and tying that little necklace where it belonged, slowly turning you around to admire the result.

“It suits you well, (Y/N)” the lady commented, observing you with that necklace on, with the silent symbol that made you hers.

“You suit me well...” You murmured with a seductive purr, drawing the woman a little closer to you, making her laugh nervously, her cheeks blushing.

It could have been one of those moments in which the silence of that sinister mansion was interrupted by gasps, by words of love, by the sounds of your passion, but it seemed that the phone resting on a table had other plans for you. The screeching sound of the device made you jerk away, making a disgusted face.

“Angie!” Donna called, making the puppet, the undisputed champion of hiding, come out of a dark corner of the room and walk comically towards the phone.

“I'm coming, I'm coming...” The doll sang. Donna's gaze was on that phone, although her hand remained in yours.

You sighed in frustration, but your touch calmed her nerves. The telephone was never a good sign at all.

“Beneviento house here, who is calling?” Angie said, grabbing the device and comically putting it on her head. “Oh, Mother Miranda…”

Donna tensed completely, not taking her eyes off her doll. Surely she would be listening to the priestess's words.

“Okay, see you later...” Angie hummed, hanging up the phone abruptly and getting off the table.

“What's wrong, honey?” You asked, seeing your lover's confused and worried expression. She let your hand go lazily.

“Mother Miranda calls us for a meeting,” the lady in black explained, walking away from you. You frowned and sighed, knowing that not even lust could fight against that.

“Meeting, meeting, meeting!” Angie screamed, making you cover your ears. “We can all play hide and seek together!”

“No, Angie, no one is going to play hide-and-seek,” Donna said, with a dry voice, showing how she didn’t wanted to go to that old cathedral and see the rest of her siblings.

“You boring thing!” The doll protested, making the lady turn around abruptly, surprised by this lack of respect from Angie.

“Hey, come on, tell her what she wants to hear and...” You whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, calming her nerves with the heat of your caresses. “You know the way she is.”

Donna shook her head, chasing after her doll, which seemed to want to make fun of her, something she couldn't stand, something that made her too nervous.

“Come on, stay still,” the lady said frustrated, squeezing her hands tightly on either side of her hips. “Angie, please…”

“No! You're mean, Donna! You don’t want to play with me! You just want to play with her!” The doll screeched, pointing at you. The lady in black growled angrily, walking quickly towards the puppet.

“Maledizione… Angie!” The lady in black cursed, trying to snatch her black veil from Angie, an indispensable accessory when she left the safety of her home. You watched the scene helplessly, unable to do anything.

“I want (Y/N) to come with us!” The puppet ordered, making Donna stop and look at you slowly, studying that possibility.

“No, no way,” she said in a dark whisper, looking at you like blaming you for something.

“Well, I will run and run and I will not give you your veil!” Angie sang, running away from the lady again.

After a ridiculous chase and several well-founded threats from the doll, Donna agreed to her request and the three of you headed towards that horrible place.

You were used to the Lords, you knew them, but you had never seen them all together, together with Mother Miranda.

“Donna, dear, who is our guest?” The priestess asked when the two of you approached the altar, to that bird woman who gave you chills. You had your head bowed in respect, but her golden claws forced you to look into those cold eyes.

“(Y/N), Mother Miranda, this is my... My... My girlfriend,” Donna said, with an almost inaudible whisper, causing a sinister smile to form on the Goddess's face, looking at you curiously.

“Wow... I'm happy for you, dear, please take a seat,” she said, giving you a mysterious look, one that passed through your body. Donna took your hand and guided you to a chair next to hers.

“This place is so creepy...” You murmured, studying that ancient structure, with the lady's hand always in yours. She looked at you and nodded, unable to hide the trembling of her body, her own nerves.

“It won't last long, (Y/N), it's a routine meeting,” Donna explained through that horrible black veil. You nodded reluctantly, holding Angie, who was looking at you curiously.

Some steps that you already knew put you on alert. It was an elegant walk, one from another time, one that belonged to Alcina Dimitrescu, owner of the castle, and one of your first clients. You couldn't deny you showed some interest in her at first, but it went away when you met Donna.

“Well, well, well... What do we have here...” The tall woman said, walking slowly towards you. The sweaty hand that was squeezing yours started to hurt you. Donna was very nervous. “A little bird that has come out of her cage…”

“Lady Dimitrescu,” you murmured respectfully, lowering your head and earning a sinister smile from the lady in white.

“How daring are you, Donna, why do bring this delicious maid into my presence?” Alcina asked in a velvety voice, making the lady in black tense, shaking her head.

“She’s not a maid!” Angie screeched, nervous as her owner, or rather, speaking for her owner, who was breathing hard. You looked at her to calm her down, but she looked away, as if you had done something wrong. Going to that meeting was a bad idea.

“Isn’t she? And what is she? Your companion?” The lady in white asked with a mocking tone making angry even you.

“She's my girlfriend,” the doll said, jumping off your lap, facing that monstrous woman, something that made you smile.

“Oh, your girlfriend... I see...” The lady of the castle murmured, leaning towards you, making Donna stand up, dragging her chair with an unpleasant sound.

“Don't go close to her,” Donna hissed, in her own voice. Alcina looked at her and laughed softly, without stopping her actions, grabbing with one of her fingers the necklace that Donna had given you just an hour ago.

“Nice necklace, little bird...” She whispered, completely ignoring her sister's protests, which intensified by kicking the ground childishly.

“Thank you, my lady.” That was all you could say. Having that vampire so close made you very nervous, you couldn't help it.

“I see my sister appreciates you a lot, right?” She asked you, with that same seductive tone. “But tell me, (Y/N), does my poor little sister know how to appreciate you properly?”

“Basta,” Donna said, with a stronger voice, making the lady in white look at her out of the corner of her eye, but returning her gaze to you immediately.

“Come on, Donna, we're just talking, right?” Alcina said laughing softly, clearly mocking her, something that also made you burn. “I'm not going to eat her... Yet...” She whispered, making you clear your throat.

“She's mine,” the lady in black whispered, threatening again, making you have the most uncomfortable time of your life. Well, until then.

“Yes, yes, yes...” Alcina sighed, standing up again, making a gesture of contempt with her hands. “Maybe one day you would like to come to my castle and…”

“Hey, fat ass, leave the girl alone!” A male voice interrupted this mocking and uncomfortable conversation. You could have calmed down, but quite the opposite. The voice belonged to Karl Heisenberg, one of the Lords, according to Donna, the most dangerous.

“Oh, it's you...” The vampire sighed, listlessly, ignoring the metallic man. “Haven't they told you that you shouldn't interrupt a ladies’ conversation?”

“I didn't know you were a lady,” he replied, mockingly, as always, pushing the large lady aside and leaning comically on the back of your chair, blowing the smoke from his cigar at you in an unpleasant way.

“You stupid vermin...” Dimitrescu protested, to which Karl laughed amused, looking at you over his glasses.

“(Y/N), I'm glad to see you, my friend,” he told you, ignoring the vampire's fury, involuntarily shaking your hand. “It's good to know that Donna took you out for a walk.”

“I'm not a dog,” you protested for that derogatory comment, looking at the lady in black, who seemed calmer due to the presence of her brother.

“Oh, I didn't say such a thing...” He said, amused, shaking his head. “I have to congratulate you on the pieces you brought me last week, they were of amazing quality,” he commented.

You sighed to be able to relax after that huge amount of insinuations from the lady of the castle. But that tranquility would not last long.

“You should congratulate the Duke, I only make the deliveries,” you said, crossing your legs and arms, looking for Angie, who apparently had gone to greet Moreau.

“And also for having an assistant as beautiful as you,” he whispered, leaning into your ear, making you blush, closing your eyes knowing that Donna was nervous again, although she didn't show it as much as before.

“Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you said amused, knowing that at least with him, you could joke. Deep down, you liked him.

Karl nodded with a sinister smile, looking at the lady in black and leaning into your ear again.

“Just a question, just for the two of us… Is Donna as big as they say?” He asked, making you choke and open your eyes at that unpleasant question. Of course, the lady in black heard it, and she rose from her chair again, her knuckles white from the pressure she put on her fists.

“I'm not going to answer that,” you said, always monitoring Donna's posture and her breathing.

“There is no need to do it,” Karl said, leaning more comfortably on your chair. “They say that comparisons are hateful, but perhaps you would like to see it for yourself. I feel so alone in that factory...” He whispered, making your stomach turn.

“Stai zitto, cazzo!” The lady in black screamed, abruptly pushing the Lord, who laughed amused by that reaction. You stood up too, trying to calm the situation, which was already unbearably tense. “Porca puttana! Ti ucciderò!”

“Hey, hey, come on, calm down, little sister, I was just joking,” Karl said, avoiding the pushes of his sister, who was increasingly furious.

“Donna, calm down, nothing's wrong,” you said, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, preventing her from hitting her brother, who seemed to be having fun at her expense. “Come on, stay still, calm down…”

“What have you done to my Donna, stupid, stupid?!” Angie screamed, joining that strange fight. “Let her go, (Y/N), let her give him what he deserves!”

“Silence!” A voice bounced off the walls. Apparently the priestess had enough, and you couldn't help but thank her. “Have you finished torturing poor Donna?”

“Oh, come on, we were joking,” Heisenberg protested, adjusting his coat while you sat your girlfriend back in her chair.

“You're like children,” Miranda hissed, shaking her head and walking towards you, placing a golden hand on the shoulder of the lady in black. “Are you okay, dear?”

The lady took a while to respond, but she finally nodded, holding your hands tightly while you whispered nice things to calm her down. Miranda looked at you out of the corner of her eye, with a strange smile.

“You're good at it, (Y/N),” she whispered, seeing that your actions had an effect on the brunette. “It seems that I can entrust my little daughter to you without fear.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said, calming your girlfriend's sobs, which little by little stopped being so intense.

“Good,” the blonde said dryly, moving away from you and spreading her wings to start the meeting and thus end that hell.

The meeting went off without a hitch. Things seemed to have calmed down, but it didn't take you long to realize that it was just an illusion. As if you had gone back several months in the past, Donna was quiet, completely silent, holding your hand, almost dragging you back towards the mansion. Not even Angie dared to say anything.

“Hey, my love...” You said softly, removing the black cloth from her face, revealing a furious, resentful look. “Forget it, okay? They were just joking.”

Your caress on her cheek was brushed away sharply. That harsh expression remained on her face, as if she deeply hated you for something you weren't guilty of.

“Don't touch me,” she hissed, pushing you, leaving you completely stunned.

“Donna...” You sighed, already used to those crises of jealousy, which her cruel brothers made more complicated. “Come on, don't be angry with me, I haven't done anything.”

“Haven’t you?” She asked. “Haven’t you done anything?”

“Of course I haven’t, they were the ones who...” You said with a more serious tone, not willing to apologize for something that was not your fault at all.

“You were delighted,” she interrupted, between clenched teeth, approaching you with a dangerous step.

“Well, who doesn't like to feel desired?” You said amused, thinking that humor was the best option. You were wrong.

“You like it too much, (Y/N)... You enjoy it...” Donna accused you, with that eye shining with tears, red with hatred and her deranged possessiveness.

“I can't enjoy it if it hurts you, Donna, don't you understand?” You defended yourself, putting your hands on her shoulders, preventing her from moving them away again.

“You don't understand that you are mine?” She asked back, making you sigh. No, you didn't like that term, at least outside of the bedroom.

“It's not my fault that your siblings were behaving that way,” you said in a more annoyed tone, with anger beginning to course through your veins.

“You're right...” She sighed, calming down mysteriously quickly, taking your hands and swinging them next to hers, as if she were turning something over in her head.

You, still alert, leaned towards her, kissing her quickly, thinking that a kiss from your lips would be the medicine she needed for her jealousy.

“I love you, Donna... I don't like to say it but... I'm yours, you know it, I know it. Nothing in this world will change my mind. I don't love anyone else, I don't want anyone else. Do you understand, my love?”

“Don't you like to say you're mine?” She asked, offended again by your words. “Then you don't like being so.”

You, sighing cupping her face in your hands, holding her gaze steady, ready to say whatever it took to make her calm down. Yes, you may not have liked the term, but the reality is that you were hers, and you always would be, you wanted to be hers.

“You're not understanding me, darling...” You said softly, brushing a strand of black hair away from her face, making her eye only look at you. “I like being yours, I want to be yours... It's just that... Well, I don't like feeling like an object.”

“You are not an object, you are my girlfriend,” she said, hardening her expression even more, but with a calmer tone. A shy smile appeared on your face as you nodded.

“You see? That's much better,” you said, kissing her gently again, noticing how her body relaxed with your caresses, with your selfless affection, something that none of them would ever have, and you would do anything to show it to her.

“Only mine,” she whispered, moving away from your lips, resting her forehead against yours, grabbing your face in an intense, desperate way.

“Yes, darling, only yours...” You repeated, wiping away a tear that was running down her cheek.

It seemed like everything was resolved, but Donna pulled away again, running a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

“No, it's not enough...” She murmured. “Your word is of no use to me…”

“Donna...” You sighed, frustrated at not being able to make her reason. “Come on, trust me.”

“I trust you,” she responded abruptly, with sincerity in her eye, which made you frown, confused. “But not them.”

“Well, that's normal,” you said amused, with a soft, comforting tone, approaching her again, caressing her trembling hand. When she raised her head to look at you, a different glow appeared in her eye, a strange one, one that you couldn't interpret.

“I have to... I have to do something... I have to show them that... That, that you are mine...” Donna murmured. She wasn't talking to you. She was talking to herself, which made you listen carefully to her ramblings to know what was on her mind.

“You show it by being by my side, giving me your affection in front of them... There is nothing else you can do to show that I only love you. You have to learn to trust me and...”

“You're wrong,” she interrupted you, changing her expression again. “There is something I can do…”

“What?” You asked curious. Donna wanted to respond, but she didn't, she just shook her head and took your hand, dragging you towards the living room. “Donna, what are you doing? What's wrong? You’re hurting me...”

Horrified by her impulsiveness, she let your sore wrist go, but the strange glint in her eye told you she was far from calming down.

“There is a way…” She whispered, grabbing you more gently this time, guiding you towards the dining room table. “A way to make them see that you are mine…”

“Okay, tell me what you are thinking,” you said in a calm tone, but with your body trembling from ignorance. It wouldn't take you long to realize her intentions, but at that moment you were completely lost.

“It won't do any good to say it. It's better... To let me doing it...” Donna whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe, forming a strange smile on your face due to that attack of sensuality. “I'm sorry, but you can't stop me, I have to do it or I will be consumed by my jealousy... I need to feel you mine, to claim you...”

“Donna, if you tell me what you're thinking...” You said, stopping talking when her hand went down your leg, getting under your dress, scratching your skin while her mouth covered you with kisses, preventing you from speaking or protesting...

“Silence, let me love you, (Y/N)” she protested, climbing you onto the table with excessive strength, placing herself between your legs and mercilessly attacking every exposed corner of your skin.

Faced with this change in circumstances, you decided to let yourself be carried away by that intense passion, by the fieryness with which her body claimed yours in such a sudden but strange way. It wasn't a slow moment, just small, innocent kisses.

No, Donna was wild, her kisses were messy and her hands played with the fabric of your underwear, thus showing her rush to have you, to take you right there, without thinking about the consequences.

“Donna...” You moaned at her soft touch, at the breeze you felt between your legs as you were freed from the article of clothing that was already beginning to get damp.

Her hips collided with yours in a sensual and fiery dance, her already noticeable erection rubbed against your body uninhibited by desire, by that sudden passion.

“Make me yours, my love...” You whispered tenderly, making her smile, releasing her trembling shaft, slowly placing it at your ready entrance.

“Don't doubt that I will, (Y/N), you will be mine forever, and we will be so happy... You'll see...” She murmured, giving your body the time to adjust to that intrusion, to the tip stretching your humidity slowly, but without wanting to withdraw.

Despite the strangeness of those words, you couldn't feel nothing but pleasure. Poor Heisenberg, surely the comparisons were hateful, hateful for him.

“Slow down, my love... It's so hard... So big... I love it,” you said, controlling your breathing, letting her erection slide completely inside you, with the ease that your excitement allowed.

Donna shook her head, gently grabbing your legs, spreading them a little more so she could move inside you better, something that made her moan, that made you moan. Her movements, although they betrayed an unusual haste, always tried to give you as much pleasure as possible, to make you see the stars, to make you swear and curse with pleasure, to make your hips move to adapt to her movements.

After a few thrusts, only accompanied by desperate moans and hungry gasps, you began to feel your body tense, preparing to release. Donna didn't seem to be far from it, but, unlike other times, her eye remained open, looking directly at you, checking the pleasure she was capable of giving you.

“I'm so close, my love... You're so good... You move so well,” you said, moving a hand to caress her cheek, a gesture that made her sigh in comfort before moaning at the wet embrace that your walls gave her as they contracted a bit.

“That's it, (Y/N), release yourself for me and I will do the same, I will claim you...” She said, her voice breaking from the intensity of her movements.

There was definitely something off about her, but your orgasm hit you before you could realize it, forcing you to arch your back and throw yourself into her arms, hanging onto her neck as her thrusts slowed.

“Good girl...” The doll maker whispered pleased by your movements, moving you away from her and lying you on the table. She grabbed your hips tightly, revealing the desire to release herself.

“You're so excited...” You said amused, moaning again as your body recovered from its release. “Watch out, okay? Try to do it out.”

Donna stopped and a sinister smile spread across her face as she shook her head.

“No, tesoro, I'm not going out. I’m going to do it inside... I'm going to get you pregnant so everyone will know that you're mine, mine forever...” Donna murmured, slowing her movements, making you sit up at those words, scared.

“What? Donna, wait…” You said when her movements resumed. Yes, that was her purpose, that was the way she would claim you. You didn't want it, but you didn't feel the need to run away or turn away either. After all, you always wanted to start a family. “This is very hasty…”

“I'm not going to wait. You will have my child, you will carry it in your womb and then we will be... A family...” She said with a whimper, unable to control her movements and words at the same time, just at the moment in which an agonized moan left her lips, making you feeling filled with her warmth, a sensation that you didn’t know, but from that moment on, you began to desire.

Your body accepted that release, writhing with pleasure as that wet, lascivious caress ran through you. You had never felt anything like that and desire and pleasure clouded your judgment, forgetting for a moment what your lover's purpose was.

“Donna... My love...” You said, your voice distorted by pleasure and worry, stroking her hair as she collapsed on top of your body, not wanting to leave you, not wanting to stop claiming you as she sobbed, surely regretting her abrupt attitude.

4 months later…

“Phone, phone!” Angie's squeaky voice was like a drill in your ears, waking you up from another of your countless naps.

“For Gods’ sake, Angie, don't yell,” you protested, sitting on the couch, sighing, with one hand on your already bulging belly.

“Don't scream, don't scream... You fat ass!” The doll mocked you, making you grit your teeth.

“I'm not fat, I'm pregnant. How should I tell you?” You said, ignoring the sound of the phone and getting up yourself to pick it up.

“Excuses...” Angie protested, making you roll your eyes and put your hand on the device, a hand that was stopped by a pale and soft one, Donna.

“Don't worry, tesoro,” she told you softly, with a reassuring smile. You kissed her softly and withdrew, pushing the doll away from your place abruptly and looking for a comfortable position, something complicated in your state.

“It’s a boy or a girl?” Angie asked, watching how you caressed your belly, while Donna responded to that call, which gave you very bad feelings.

“I've already told you that we don't know,” you said, irritable due to the pregnancy, but excited, much more excited than you thought.

“I hope it's a girl,” Angie said, when Donna hung up the phone and approached slowly, sitting next to you.

“What if it's a boy?” You asked amused, feeling more comfortable with your girlfriend by your side.

“I don't know, I guess you can make more babies, right?” The puppet answered. You laughed, eyes widening when you felt a strange movement.

“Donna, look...” You said excitedly, taking the lady in black's hand to your belly, making her feel those same movements.

“It's... Incredible,” she murmured, amazed by the movements of her child in your womb, by feeling that life the two of you had created in a strange, but lovely way.

“Yes, it is...” You whispered, enjoying that little moment for you, the beginning of that new family. “Donna.”

“Mm?” She murmured, hypnotized by her child, barely paying attention to you.

“The call, who was it?” You asked amused, making the lady wake up from her dream and look at you confused.

“Oh, yes, well... Miranda wants us to meet,” she commented with a relaxed voice, looking at you with a strange smile, which indicated she was going to ask you for something. “I would like you to come with me, you know, so everyone knows that…”

“Donna...” You protested, crossing your arms. “We have already talked about jealousy.”

“Please, I'm begging you, let me be proud of you in front of them...” She said, putting her hands together in a comical way. You had no choice but to nod.

The way was much calmer. As disturbing as it was that Donna thought a child would be the solution to her jealousy, in the end it didn't turn out to be a bad idea at all. Your pregnancy made the lady in black calm down in a surprising way, and she barely suffered crises or nightmares.

“Wow, (Y/N), I see you’re... Fine,” the priestess commented, clearly noticing the bulge in your dress. You lowered your head and bowed as a sign of respect.

“I'm better than ever, Mother Miranda,” you responded respectfully, not daring to look into those gray and dangerous eyes. She nodded, looking at Donna in a teasing but strangely loving way.

“I see... Congratulations, dear...” Miranda whispered, wrapping her arms around the lady in black, who nodded excitedly, whispering something in the witch's ear, to which the blonde nodded indicating for you to sit down.

It didn't take long for the other Lords to appear, as well as their mocking and sinister smiles, which were automatically directed towards you.

“What do my eyes are seeing...” Alcina whispered, approaching elegantly, swinging her hips sensually. You automatically put your hands on your belly, protecting it from a non-existent danger. “Little bird, you look so beautiful…”

Donna looked at her, but she didn't say anything, she seemed surprisingly calm. You nodded, grateful for the compliment, and because, after that comment and a fleeting glance at your belly, the lady in white retired to her seat.

Heisenberg, on the other hand, didn't approach you. He simply winked at you, making you shiver.

“Well, my dears, before we start, I think Donna has something to say,” Miranda commented, pleased cause that time there was no arguments or fights.

The lady in black stood up slowly, taking your hand so you could do the same. You were nervous, especially because all those evil eyes landed on you immediately.

“I just want to say that as you may have noticed, (Y/N) is pregnant. I wanted you to know before you tried to lay a finger on her,” Angie said, speaking for her owner, who was looking at you through her veil.

“Wow, and I thought you were eating too much pasta...” Heisenberg commented, amused, making Donna squeeze your hand tightly making you hiss in pain.

“You are a wild animal,” Alcina commented, despising her brother and looking back at you. “Congratulations, dears.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Karl said, standing up comically. “The kid's issue isn't because of the teasing that afternoon, right?”

Donna didn't respond, nor did Angie. Certainly, he was the most dangerous, he was tremendously intelligent.

“Oh, is that true, dear?” Alcina asked, showing her great height as she stood up. “Please, you can't be so naive, Donna. We were messing with you a bit.”

“I don't like being laughed at,” the lady in black protested, kicking the ground childishly, making you relax her again with your caresses.

“You make it very easy for us, Donna,” Heisenberg added. “Look at you. You are going to be a mother just for us to know we cannot touch your girl.”

“Shut up,” Angie protested, with an unpleasant squeak.

“I'm sure it will be a beautiful girl...” Alcina murmured, leaving the teasing aside for once. She looked like she was genuinely happy and that reassured you.

“You have no idea, Dracula, it will be a boy and I will take care of him, he needs a babysitter...” Karl said, making you smile, shaking your head.

“Don't even come close to my child, bastardo,” Donna threatened, making the Lord laugh harder.

“What? It’s my nephew,” he said, raising his eyebrows and looking at you over his glasses. You rolled your eyes, and dragged Donna back to the chair so she wouldn't get into the conflict again.

Well, at least the teasing is over, teasing that caused your future to change abruptly. You didn't blame Donna for doing it that way, you couldn't do it. She was fragile, weak, and afraid, afraid of losing you.

What she didn't know is that she would never lose you. She would never lose her family.

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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