#HI THIS IS TERRIFYING 😭 i think this is the first time i have a) shared something in progress and b) shared something that is like. real fic
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j0kers-light · 3 days ago
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Three Steps Back
Ooooh this was the settling in phase chapters walking on eggshell around Joker. Good soup.
You were unable to come to terms on what almost happened between the two of you, so you decided to pretend that it didn't happen in the first place.
Who’s gonna tell her? đŸ„Ž
He wormed himself past your defenses in just a few day's time with minimal effort on his part. When did you lower your guard around him? One minute you were guiding him towards the bed, the next he was making a pass at you.
The man got rizz Y/n! Natural charisma n’ stuff. đŸ”„đŸ”„
You never cared for the color green until you met Joker. He made the hue come alive and take on a much deeper meaning. In less than a week, you saw the color in everything.
Y/n you’re starting early on the “I might have feelings criteria.”
You couldn't get his eyes out of your head even if someone paid you to. How could something so dark and dangerous be so warm and inviting? Up close you didn't understand why the populace was terrified by his gaze; it was intense and gorgeous in your opinion. You could write essays on what you saw swirling within them.
I was down bad when I wrote this paragraph 👀
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It was agreed upon that he would stay for two weeks until his stitches needed to be removed but you knew something would ruin that target date.
Gotta love foreshadowing. I wonder what would ruin the original two weeks deal?
You were stuck with him now. No take backies just because you couldn't handle your psychotic roommate trying to kiss you.
And they were roommates! đŸ€Ł
You just refused to fall for a guy like Joker. Simple as that.
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Elsewhere, Joker was finishing up the breakfast hash you made him when he heard the loud crash in the main room. He tried his hardest not to panic as the silence dragged on but breathed a sigh of relief once he heard your sarcastic ramblings drift down the hall.
Why you panicking Joker? You’re not supposed to care, remember? 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
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He didn't know this interview had aired so he needed to watch every second to add anything said to his pre-existing notes. Some would say Joker was obsessed– he just considered himself a huge fan of your work and wanted to appreciate all the content you provided.
I would literally pass out if Joker was obsessed with my work or anyone for that matter. You wanna interview me?
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He really spent two hours thinking about you. He really needed to get out of his room.
Certified simp!
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“Don't worry that pretty little head of yours! For now on, I'll keep my hands to myself, bunny."
No he won’t. Ahhh he’s using that name we totally don’t like him using! It’s so cool to go back and see how we accepted Bunny as a nickname. Slowly but surely.
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Call mom, she calls GCPD, the police swarm your apartment, both you and Joker are taken into custody. You confess he forced you to heal him and after a call to your lawyer, you'd be given a deal to save your own behind. You could write a story about your ordeal and make a fortune off of it while Joker rots away at Arkham Asylum. Roll credits.
This was so not how His Lighthouse was supposed to end hahaha đŸ‘€đŸ«ą
“Does that mean I can hold your hand?" He asked.
I’m not sure if Joker was teasing or being serious here.
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Of course there were plenty of times he wanted to smother you with a pillow or stab you with a butter knife, or strangle you with his bare hands, but every time some unknown power steadied his hand.
😭😭 This is a good dive into Joker’s mind. He’s still an insane psychopath but he’s battling inner demons in order to begin loving Y/n.
He couldn't resist teasing you. "Ah, are you showering with me Bunny?"
Chaos are you hinting at a shower scene between these two!? Why yes I am!
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His Lighthouse Re-Read Thread
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Hey hi my loves!!! I've read my own story 14 million times but I never did an official reread thread so thank @jaysmentalspace for what's about to happen! đŸ–€âœš
This will be an interactive thread. Yes, you can join in with your own comments, reblogs, whatever! I will start from chapter one and I guess, review/commentate my own story! I hope you enjoy the ride. There's gonna be fun facts, behind the scenes commentary, who knows. đŸ€·đŸŸâ€â™€ïž
His Lighthouse masterlist let's get started.
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years ago
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Oh these all look so lovely. May i ask about good dog bad dream for WIP files?
of course!!! đŸ„°đŸ’• i answered a little bit about it here, but this is one of the tag stories i really, REALLY want to actually become a fic so i did promise a little snippet of the 2K that is done:
Things that Dylan should do: turn off the light, shut the door, walk back inside to the rumpled sheets still warm from when he left them to grab a glass of water. Leave the creature outside to the lightning bugs and the quarter moon and the shifting shadows of the woods along the gap-toothed fenceline of his yard, and then come out in the morning to nothing more than a paw print and the clean reassurance of sunlight to tell him nobody’s there, to ignore the prickle of discomfort that shivers its way across his body as goosebumps and raised hairs when he thinks about turning his back on the memory of those red eyes.
Things that Dylan does instead: whistle.
#the two moods of just:#HI THIS IS TERRIFYING 😭 i think this is the first time i have a) shared something in progress and b) shared something that is like. real fic#and then also:#YAY TYSM FOR ASKING 😭😭😭 me rn just like đŸ„čđŸ„șđŸ„°đŸ’•âœšâ€Œïžâ˜ș you want to hear about my fic???#ALSO ALSO ALSO. i forgot to mention in the last post my formative m*ggie st*efvater influences growing up (read shiver) & seeing the video#on twitter the other day of them actually starting to film??? for a shiver tv show/movie??? made me be like OH GOD I HAVE TO ACTUALLY WRITE#(also a devastating notesapp sentence i have written down that i said prior to the bertuzzi trade but you know it’s fine i’m fine)#liv in the replies#also i work so much better FOR things (creating for people etc) akdjskdjak so i’m just like. who wants to beta read now#so that i have to write in order to not disappoint you is this not what beta readers are for#other tag stories i also want to become fics (and technically could have listed since their docs are me stealing tags & accumulating them:#pk carey ​lonesome cowboy au / the vestigial old gods detroit au / jackty the breakup / catch carter faerie prince)#tyler borzoituzzi#anyWAY. the absolute poetic justice of me sitting on these two asks for like. days bc busy and then coming to tumblr & IMMEDIATELY seeing#a post and going TYLER BORZOITUZZI about it i can’t explain to you how hard i’m laughing akdhskdjaksj#also yes i DID write another 300 words so i could say 2k in this post instead of 1.7k we love to be a stubborn taurus rising l m a o#wip ask game
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evilmenarehot · 1 month ago
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Jealousy
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Rafe Cameron x Reader (established relationship)
Summary: Reader meets Sofia and isn’t pleased.
*this is my first time writing so don’t be mean😭
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You slam your car door behind you and set fourth to meet Rafe and his boyfriends at the country club bar. Tired from coming straight from working the opening shift at the local coffee shop, you’re hoping you can convince Rafe to go back to tannyhill and just spend a relaxing day with you. Being the nice girlfriend you are however, meant agreeing to meet at the club when he texted you during your shift. Your outfit wasn’t terrible so you skipped stopping at home and here you are. You make your way inside and see the boys all standing around a table on the deck and decide you need a drink before you can handle that much toxic testosterone. You make your way to the bar to and grab the bartender's attention. “Can I get a glass of rose please” she timidly nods and hands me the glass once she’s done pouring. “And what tab name should I put that under?”
Looking her up and down you realized she was probably new, no one had to ask who your tab was under. They knew you were Rafes. You politely smiled back “Rafe, Rafe Cameron,” she looked at you with confusion and protested “um I unfortunately cannot put your drinks under someone else’s tab if they’re not here with you, but If you give me your name I can add it to your club account!” The look you gave her was one of pure disdain. You were simply not in the mood for this today. “I don’t have a member account I’m a guest, a guest of Rafe Cameron, who if you use your eyes you can see is literally right there, on the deck. Right behind us.” You blinked at her waiting for her to get on with it and hopefully let you leave this irking conversation, but no, she continues
“See I understand but since he didn’t accompany you here I have now way of know-“ you turned around and walked away cutting her off mid sentence. You marched towards Rafe who had his back to you, you gripped his wrist promptly ending his conversation with kelce and topper and dragged him to the bar. He looked down at you confused considering he didn’t even know you were there. Once you reach the bar you put on your best fake smile until the girl speaks up while fluttering her eyelashes “oh hi Rafe!” So that’s what this is about. Miss bartender bitch is also a pick me bitch. Got it. You bite your lip while giving this girl a look that could kill and put your hand over Rafe’s chest possessively “sweetie, this lovely new girl
 what was your name?”
“Sofia” she answered with a scared look.
“Yes, Sofia, thinks I’m some wandering alcoholic from the street who roams in unaccompanied and tries to add my drinks to strangers tabs, so please for the love of god tell her I’m with you so we can end this wonderful conversation and I can get on with enjoying the rest of my day.” You blink up at him waiting for his response, while he looks at the girl looking like a deer in headlights. You clear your throat and he snaps out of his daze and gives you an evil look. “Yeah actually I have no clue who this girl is, I’ve never see-
You smack his chest simply not having his childish behavior. He sighs and rolls his eyes down at you “Yes yes I unfortunately know this woman.” You smack his chest again “unfortunately?!”
“No sorry, I mean that I get the great pleasure of dating this terrifying woman” he blinks down at you with a stupid smirk, you turn your attention back to Sofia, “are we good now? Is this over?” She gulps and nods her head frantically. “Great, bye Sophie” you grab your drink and while you’re walking away you hear her mutter “it’s Sofia” . You roll your eyes and look up at Rafe who pulls you aside before you reach the table with the boys at it. “Someone’s feisty today” he settles his hands on your hips and looks down at you lovingly. “It was just a shitty day and I can’t put up with people's stupidity anymore.” You take a sip from your glass and rest your free hand on his chest. “I don’t know why you don’t just quit, I told you I can take care of you” you think it over for a second while swirling your wine around. “Yeah but I’m not a gold digger, I don’t have it in me, I would get too bored being a stay at home girlfriend” let’s not forget the fear of him leaving you and you being stuck with nothing! He chuckles at you and gives you a peck to your forehead while moving his hand to the small of your back and ushering you to the table.
“Ayo y/n” topper loudly shouts as you approach.
“What’s up girl?” Kelce asks. Before you get a chance to answer, Rafe steps in for you. “She almost just bit the head off of Sofia the new girl” he laughs along with the boys as you grow annoyed again. “Bro why?” Asks topper. “She kept saying I couldn’t put my drinks on Rafes tab and she also kept batting those slutty eyelashes at him.” You scoff replaying the scene in your head. “Ahh so you're jealous.” Kelce says. You blink at him hoping that he’ll drop dead at any moment. “I will slit your throat Kelce.” You’re really not having this today. The boys all erupt in laughter while Rafe pulls you into his side. You down the rest of your wine and look up at him. “Can we just go back to Tanny? I'm not in a good mood and I was hoping for it just to be us today.” You slightly whisper so that the other two boys wouldn’t hear. Rafe looks at you with a sense of guilt in his eyes seeing as he’s the reason you’re here in the first place. “Yeah, I’m sorry baby let’s go.” He says his goodbye to the boys and you make your way off the deck holding hands while your other hand rests on his bicep. While you’re passing the bar you make sure to catch Sofias eye “Bye Zoey” you say in a sing-song voice. Rafe gives you another smirk while leading you to your car. “You’re kinda a bitch you know that?” He says with nothing but love in his eyes. He hops in your driver's seat since you’re a passenger princess at heart. You click your seatbelt in place and look over at him while he starts up the car. “Yeah I know, but you love me” you’re smiling over at him watching how handsome he looks when he’s putting his arm behind your seat, while looking back to reverse. “Yeah, I really do don't I” he says with a boyish grin. He places his free hand on your thigh and you head off to enjoy the rest of the day in peace with your favorite Cameron boy.
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yeyinde · 7 months ago
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(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭
are you planning on writing any more for either of those?
ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.
stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.
Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.
Your dog does not like strangers.
He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.
He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.
But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.
You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.
And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.
Or so you thought.
But he's been acting strange lately.
You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.
It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 
As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.
It's small—at first. 
He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.
He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.
"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"
But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.
Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—
There's nothing to worry about.
He'll protect you.
But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—
He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.
It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 
The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—
They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.
Something thick, firm between your thighs—
Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.
Baby will protect you. 
Always. 
But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—
It's not normal.
He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.
But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 
Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—
No. You're just—
Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.
You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.
"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"
His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 
When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—
You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.
A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—
A wet dream.
—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 
You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 
It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 
Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—
It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.
A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.
This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.
And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.
He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.
There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,
your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—
You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 
It doesn’t matter, though. 
The man has been watching from the beginning. 
Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.
His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.
"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—
Baby growls.
He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.
But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 
The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.
"Baby—?"
"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”
He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 
"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 
You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 
The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 
"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."
Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—
Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 
“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 
You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 
“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—
It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—
There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 
And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—
But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 
“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”
His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.
"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.
He has you.
Your submission makes him purr.
"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 4 months ago
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heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓
- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)
Unwavering
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.
An: I think this is a stupid cute idea đŸ„č Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it đŸ«‚
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Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.
Learning to simply
 live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.
With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature
 maybe it was the extra set of arms
 maybe it was the tattoos.
Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain
 Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.
Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.
Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.
With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”
You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.
“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous
 or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”
Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant
 just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.
“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.
“Oh
” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.
Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though
 He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.
“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job
 Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So
 Ryomen, what can I get for you?”
Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.
Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”
Oh boy.
*** *** ***
After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.
He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.
He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.
It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.
It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.
But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.
But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how
 happy you make him.
He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.
His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.
His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.
Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.
Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.
His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.
“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.
His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.
After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.
He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.
His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.
Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.
He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.
Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.
By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.
His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.
“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.
You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.
“It’s not that. I just
” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “
 don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”
Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”
You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do
 Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we
?”
His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man
 that is very large and muscular.
“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”
Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”
Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.
You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before
 the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.
Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.
“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.
“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.
His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you
 I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”
You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.
His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”
“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.
“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.
“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”
Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.
You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.
It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.
This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.
Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.
“How am I
?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.
“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now
” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.
You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.
Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.
Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.
Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.
He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.
“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.
“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just
 the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.
Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.
You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”
Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.
A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.
Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.
“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.
“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.
“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”
You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.
Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.
When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.
Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.
You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.
“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.
Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.
His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.
Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.
“K-Kuna
 mmnnf! I’m gonna
. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.
“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.
“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.
“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.
When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.
His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.
“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.
“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.
“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”
“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.
“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.
Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.
Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.
His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.
Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.
“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.
“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.
“Badly! B-badly
 please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.
Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.
Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.
Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.
Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.
“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.
Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.
“Ah
 hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.
“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.
Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.
His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.
It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.
He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.
“Mmm fuck
 such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.
“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still
 but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.
“Mmph~ Kuna
 so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.
The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.
“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.
They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.
Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.
Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.
Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.
Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.
He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.
“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh
 fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.
“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it
”
It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.
He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.
You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.
His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”
All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty
”
As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.
Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.
“Oh gods-! F-fuck
” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.
“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.
He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?
1K notes · View notes
laligraves · 9 months ago
Text
a wedding in june
cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write
You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop. 
The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune. 
Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.
Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication. 
The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you. 
The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room. 
There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion. 
Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.  
You were wrong. 
Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.  
And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off. 
You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that. 
A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here. 
Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass. 
“No,” you scream, “let me go!” 
“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?” 
“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!” 
He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand. 
“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.” 
He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him. 
“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance. 
“Yeah, I got ‘er.” 
“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–” 
“No,” Joel calls out. 
“Joel–” 
“Leave,” Joel interrupts. 
He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties. 
“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls. 
He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together. 
“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?” 
You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost
 sad. 
“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?” 
You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.  
“I’m sorry, Joel–” 
He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass. 
“You address me as sir.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.” 
Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens. 
“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” 
He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life. 
He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you. 
“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.” 
“No, please,” you whimper. 
He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other. 
“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–” 
“Sir–” 
His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words. 
“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.” 
Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking. 
“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.” 
You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air. 
You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.
Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are. 
“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–” 
He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down. 
“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.  
“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–” 
He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth. 
Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.
He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver. 
“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.” 
Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap. 
“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.” 
With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you. 
“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.” 
With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.   
“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.” 
“What do you mean—“
You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy. 
You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night. 
But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere. 
His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark. 
He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance. 
The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin. 
“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air. 
Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.
He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops. 
“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs. 
Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.  
Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him. 
“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.” 
You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length. 
“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”
The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face. 
“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.” 
“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.” 
Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.” 
There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head. 
You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means. 
Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.
He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness. 
“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.” 
“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!” 
He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint. 
“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”
The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek. 
“Answer me.” 
“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine. 
“Again, fu–again,” he demands. 
You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.  
You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him. 
“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.” 
His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall. 
The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles. 
“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”
He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids. 
“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?” 
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead. 
He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples. 
Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky. 
“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.” 
“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.” 
You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood. 
The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.
“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?” 
This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body. 
“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.” 
You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.  
He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.
"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.
You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you. 
With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.
"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."
You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.
"I won’t," you promise. 
Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.
You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.
"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"
“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.” 
You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm. 
“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”
-
general taglist: iloved1lfs0
ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines đŸ€đŸ€đŸ€
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rosenclaws · 1 month ago
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Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭
warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting
a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.
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Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.
Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.
"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.
“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.
“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or
”
“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.
“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.
“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”
“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.
Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.
“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."
"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.
"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.
"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."
"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.
"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.
"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.
Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.
"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.
"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.
"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.
"Fine."
You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.
You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.
"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.
"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.
"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.
"Alright deal."
Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.
It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.
You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.
He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.
Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.
He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.
"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.
A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.
"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.
"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.
"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?
The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.
"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.
"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.
"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.
"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.
"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.
"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."
"Well she's my girlfriend."
"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.
"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.
Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.
"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.
"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.
Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.
Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.
"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."
"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.
"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.
"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.
"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.
Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.
"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."
You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.
"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.
"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.
"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.
"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.
"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.
There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.
"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."
"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.
Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.
"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.
"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.
"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."
"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.
"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.
"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"
"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.
"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.
"What?" You ask in disbelief.
Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.
"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."
"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.
"It doesn't matter,"
"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.
"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.
All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.
"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.
His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.
His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.
"I wish we had done this sooner."
"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.
"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.
"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.
"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.
"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.
God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.
"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.
"I've never been better. Now, take me home."
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504py · 6 months ago
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A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]
Warnings below the cut 。。。
⚠ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.
hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!
thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again đŸ©”đŸ™
also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.
MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭
┊͙✧˖*Â°àż
The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.
Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.
The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.
It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.
Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.
You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.
Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.
Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.
"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.
"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."
The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.
The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.
As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.
He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.
You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.
"Is it bad?"
"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore."
And that was that.
You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.
Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.
Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.
"Mm. ЁжОĐș ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒĐŒaĐœĐ”?"
"Yeah. I like this one."
"A little somber, isn't it?"
"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."
Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.
"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.
He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."
"What will you be wearing?"
"What I usually do."
You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."
"What about you?" He asks.
"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."
Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.
"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.
"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"You do it perfectly, Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь ĐŒĐŸŃ." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."
"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."
He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."
"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."
A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.
"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.
You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.
"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.
All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.
"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?
"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.
"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"
Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.
His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.
"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"
"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.
It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.
Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.
Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.
"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"
He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.
"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.
With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.
Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.
"Only for a few minutes."
You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?
That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.
You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.
You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.
Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.
And that's when you hear it.
Soft footsteps.
You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.
Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.
The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.
Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.
"I won't ask again."
Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.
"I-I'm sorry. Please."
And he smiles.
Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.
You don't understand why he's giggling right now.
He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.
"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.
As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.
Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.
"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.
"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.
"What did you do?"
"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."
Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.
"It will be okay. I love you."
You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.
"I love– I love you too."
He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.
"This does not mean I forgive you, though."
Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.
He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"
You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."
"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.
Disgust registers for only a second.
Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.
After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.
"You will not bite me this time?"
Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.
Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.
Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.
Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.
Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.
Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.
While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.
Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.
Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.
Maybe he'll get lucky again.
Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.
The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–
Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.
He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?
Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.
And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.
"Bed– B-Bedroom."
A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.
Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.
You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.
Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.
The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.
That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...
Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.
Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.
┊͙✧˖*Â°àż
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bbearthyy · 2 months ago
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JJ and John B have shared everything since they were 8
~~~
this is just a lil something i was thinking about this morning and figured i could write to ring in the new year. it’s kinda short sorry😭
Smut!!! MDNI
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they’d figured it out very quickly - how to share things. john b shared with jj because he could, jj shared with john b because he had to. they both knew this and were perfectly fine with it.
the first time jj slept over at the chateau they shared the bed. jj was supposed to sleep on the couch but there was a thunderstorm roaring outside, and the noise terrified him. jj poked his head into john b’s room seeking comfort and before he knew it he was waking up, cuddled so closely to john b in his small twin bed that it was hard for them to decipher where one ended and the other began. it became instinct at that point. every morning that they woke up together (which was almost every morning, as long as jj snuck back into his home before his dad awoke) john b would give jj his clothes to wear, and jj would give john b a hat to borrow. they shared a plate at breakfast when food was low, shared toothpaste, and of course all of john bs toys were jjs as well. and as they grew older they shared bigger things, such as their vehicles, beers, their surf boards, girls.
so it should come as no surprise that they had to share you. john b never understood how jj bagged a girl as pretty as you, but he couldn’t think too much on it right now. couldn’t think at all really. your back was pressed against his chest, arm reached behind you to jerk him off. your legs were spread wide, jj’s strong hands pinning your thighs to the bed as he ate you like a man starved. you didn’t think he could get any deeper, but john b reached out anyways, placing a firm hand on the back of jjs head and pushing, forcing jj to press even further into you. you wanted to pull away, worried that the blonde couldn’t breathe, but by the time you could grasp a coherent thought you were cumming. your juices spilled all over jjs face, meanwhile john bs hand kept him pressed into you, giving the blonde no where to go, not that he would’ve pulled away if he could. your hand kept stroking john bs thick cock even as your orgasm rushed through you, and he soon was cumming too, release spilling over your back. it was lucky your long hair was pulled up into an updo, otherwise it would’ve been ruined by john bs massive load.
you were still awake, fighting the aftershocks of your orgasm, but your eyes were fluttering shut. jj took note of this once he was able to pull back from your center, reaching a hand up to swiftly but gently tap the side of your face. “hey,” he mumbled, “don’t forget about me sweet girl. papa j needs some loving too.” he sealed the deal with a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he pulled away. you giggled at his words, body going lax as he picked you up, laying you back onto the bed on your stomach beside john b. jj spread your legs, squeezing your thighs as a silent way of saying keep them open. john b laid down beside you, hand gently caressing your cheek and murmuring words of praise as jj stripped out of his shorts. your eyes had closed once more, relaxing under john bs gentle touch and kind words, but abruptly snapped right back open. jj has his thick cock in his hand, smacking the heavy tip against your clit. you moaned out, making the blonde chuckle. “oh baby,” he began, “i haven’t even done anything yet.” but it didn’t matter. because then he was reaching up with his other hand to grab your hip, the hand on his cock pushing it forward, forcing his way into your gummy walls. “fuck mama,” jj panted out, clearly wanting to say more but being unable to after feeling your wetness around him. the blonde began moving immediately, heavy sack smacking against your clit with every thrust. you were soaked, arousal spilling out all over jjs cock. his eyes rolled back into his head, hips slamming harder into yours. john b reached out, grabbing onto jjs hand to pull the boy back into reality. the blonde smiled gratefully, looking at his best friend, before his head turned towards yours. “‘m gonna fucking ruin you.”
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coffeeshopguest · 10 months ago
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please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!
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I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭
The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night
Word Count: 1569
Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott
Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex
It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 
What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 
"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 
Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 
"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 
Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 
"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 
Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 
Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 
Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 
"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 
Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"
 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."
"You...you're in?" 
Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 
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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 
"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 
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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 
So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 
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Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.
"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 
And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 
"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 
You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 
You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 
"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 
A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 
"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 
He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 
Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 
"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 
To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 
In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 
When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 
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yooniivrse · 5 months ago
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early mornings | myg
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summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: established relationship au, tooth-rotting fluff
word count: 1k
content: yoongi and oc wake up in each others arms / they love each other a bit too much and they make it pretty clear / they kiss a lot :3
warnings: fear of abandonment (kind of? if you squint??), allusions to sex
notes: idk why i'm procrastinating the third part of 'stumble into you' so bad, but this is a result of me still wanting to write something. also, ignore the images at the top if they don’t go well together, i’m too lazy to actually put in effort today 😭 likes, reblogs, comments, and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i love you guys and i hope you enjoy <33333
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main masterlist
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Amber rays spill across the room, seeping between the gaps in the curtains and kissing your bare skin with its golden warmth.
Yoongi stirs under the sheets, attempting to untangle his limbs from you, who lay beside him. But your arms only tighten around him, and he quickly gives in to the comforts of your touch.
With your head on his chest and his arm secure under your head, he can't help the lazy smile that draws across his lips.
He's always loved early mornings with you; when neither of you have to think about anything else but each other; when time feels like it ceases to exist; when nothing else mattered, because why would it when you had each other?
You were his home; his universe; his first thought in the morning and the most frequent visitor of his dreams. Everything reminded him of you, and it was maddening. But he welcomed the longing with open arms, because he was a fool.
Because he knew that it was worth being foolish if it meant having you.
Yoongi places a kiss on your forehead, his lips pressing against a few strands of hair that lay messily across your face. The scent of your skin, faintly sweet like the lavender soap you use, lingers in the air as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, taking in the quiet of the morning, broken only by the soft hum of your breathing. He moves his hand to rest over yours, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.
He doesn't expect the gentle action to wake you, but your eyes flutter open. You hum, the sound quiet and laced with exhaustion as you stretch out your body.
Your eyes light up when you meet his gaze and the butterflies in his stomach erupt, fluttering around wildly.
"Morning," you whisper. You peck his lips with a soft kiss.
"Morning," Yoongi echoes. A faint blush paints his features, and a giggle tumbles from your mouth. Yoongi catches the sound with another kiss; then a third one that lingers for a few seconds longer than the others.
It is almost embarrassing to admit the effect you had on him. You've been together for years, and known each other for even more. He knows every dip and curve of your body and you have seen him through all of his highs and lows. Yet, a kiss from you still has him blushing.
"Missed me?" you tease, and he hums in agreement.
"A lot." He kisses corner of your lips and the curve of your jaw. "You're so pretty."
You laugh; a soft sound that rings through the air. It has always been Yoongi's favourite melody-the one sound that made his heart swell and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons to accommodate his growing smile.
He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand stay to cup your cheek so that he can bring his lips to yours again. He’s addicted to the way your lips fit perfectly with his, and no matter how often he kisses you, it’s never enough
And you can't stop smiling.
The feeling that courses under your skin is almost overwhelming. It still feels surreal—that kind of love, where just being with him made the world right
The possibility of losing Yoongi terrifies you, but it's a fear that follows you everyday. Sometimes, you expect to wake up one day only to realise that this is all a cruel dream, or to find the house suddenly void of his belongings and his presence.
Sometimes, the fear creeps in before you can stop it, a quiet panic that gripped you in the space between sleep and waking. You’d reach out, half-afraid to find the bed cold and empty. But then, your hand would meet the warmth of his skin, and the fear dissolved into nothing. Because every morning, he's here. Solid, warm, and real, wrapped up in the sheets beside you. His sleepy eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the way he pulls you closer as if you’re his anchor—it’s all so undeniably Yoongi, and it makes your heart flutter with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.
You press your forehead to his, noses brushing, as if the closer you hold him, the more real this will become. Yoongi's fingers trail lightly over your skin, tracing invisible patterns that make you shiver.
“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, voice raspy but tender, like he's always known your thoughts even before you speak them.
You let out a soft sigh, trying to find the words, but they dissolve on your tongue when his hand glides over your waist, settling at the small of your back.
“You’re here,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. It's a quiet confession of the relief that washes over you each time you wake up to find him still beside you. He smiles against your skin, a low hum of agreement in his throat. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken assurance. "You know that I'll always be right here-right beside you, whenever you need me."
For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no fear of loss, no dread of waking up alone. It’s just him, his presence grounding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. The intimacy of the moment swells between you, a shared heartbeat that drowns out the rest of the world.
Your legs tangle beneath the sheets as he pulls you even closer, his hand finding yours under the covers. His touch is gentle, tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you, and in the glow of the early morning, you feel more connected to him than ever.
You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his skin seep into yours, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.
And in that moment, you know—this is home.
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luvluu · 1 month ago
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Daylight
 Shuntaro Chishiya
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A/N: heeeey! So English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistake. I way loved this one and it’s probably getting a part two I don’t know you tell me pls😭
So almost all my stuff has a song title because I’m rlly bad with titles and it’s easier to me to name them as a song, but most times it has no connection at all😭🙏 hope you like this tho as you liked “I love you, I’m sorry”(which is probably getting a part two)
Requests are open tho!đŸ«¶đŸ»
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Shuntaro Chishiya x reader
Fluff❀‍đŸ©č
TW: none
WORDS: 942
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Daylight streamed in through the bedroom window. The faint rays of sunlight slowly woke you up. You pulled away from the sleeping figure beside you, but he grabbed your waist before you could, you smiled at the act of love.
“Chishiya...” you murmured, he only let out a moan, not letting go of you.
“Just a little while longer” he said pulling you to his body, you laughed you looked up at him who still half asleep.
“I have to go” you said, stroking his hair and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Chishiya didn't work in the summer, it was almost never his turn and although it seemed unbelievable to think, when Chishiya didn't work he didn't really know what to do. You worked in the bar of a swimming pool near your house, so Chishiya had to put up with being without you all morning. He used to go with you, pay the entrance fee even if he didn't swim in the pool despite the heat and ordered himself some refreshments just to be served by you, but your boss ended up banning him because, according to him, being with Chishiya was too distracting.
To say that Chishiya was in awe of you was not enough. Ever since he met you, his heart started beating a little faster. It was almost three years ago. You went with your little nephew to the hospital as he had to have a test:
“Walk” you said to the child, trying to get him to enter the consultation room. You were terrified of hospitals, very much so, and so was the little boy.
Since you were little, you were always forced to go to the doctor and you ended up panicking about hospitals and everything related to them. Doctors? Monsters. That's what they looked like to you, monsters.
You entered the consulting room behind the figure of your little nephew and Chishiya noticed the nervousness of both of you almost instantly. Neither of you sat down, you stared at Chishiya as if he was a ghost.
“His parent?” he asked, you were offended, but tried to hide it.
“No, no, of course not” you quickly denied. Chishiya hid a smile.
He gave your nephew a test while you sat in the chair in front of the desk, your gaze fixed on the fridge full of injections, your stomach churning at that image alone.
When he finished, Chishiya told your nephew to go outside for a moment while he gave you the results, it was not usually good for children to be around while the doctor gave the test results, if they had something serious they could get scared and it was better for the children.
Chishiya held out a piece of paper to you and told you that your nephew was fine, he just needed to do more sports.
“I'm sorry I offended you earlier.” you frowned in confusion. “When I asked if you were the boy's parent.”
“Oh, don't worry” you denied, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible.
“Let me make it up to you with a coffee” he replied, offering you a piece of paper with your name and his phone number on it with a reassuring smile. You scanned the paper before taking it with a small smile and a noticeable blush is your cheeks, the urge to leave gone.
“I don't drink coffee” you said, though when you realized that sounded like a rejection you spoke again. “But I'd love to go with you, yes” you said nervously and walked out of the office.
You had been together for two and a half years and you were the fuel of Chishiya's life: every time he saw a piece of clothing in the store next to the hospital he thought about how wonderful you would look in it, or every time he ate alone in the hospital he wondered if you were eating alone too. You just wouldn't get out of his head.
Summer was supposed to be when you could be together. You would spend all day in bed cuddling and watching series or movies, you both loved those moments. You loved the comfort of your bed and the smell of Chishiya flooding the room as his arms cuddled you. And Chishita loved anything that involved being near you, but your summer job fucked it all up.
You didn't need money, Chishiya was a doctor and you were a teacher, but the owner(yes, the same one who banned your boyfriend) was the brother of one of your best friends, and he needed someone to work for at least two weeks, so you, as the people-pleaser you were, you couldn't say no.
“Stay today” he murmured, kissing your lips in one swift movement.
“I'll get fired.” you said.
“Better” he laughed, throwing you back on the bed, making you laugh. “I don't plan to let you leave” he said lying on top of you.
At first, Chishiya was kind of carefree, he didn't seem to care about anything, he didn't seem to care about anything, but after a few months of relationship, his attitude changed and Chishiya ended up being one of the cutest men you had ever met.
“I have to work or I won't do anything productive all morning.”
“I can think of a couple of ways to do something productive together” he said giving you a kiss on the neck followed by a laugh.
“Shuntaro!” you scolded. He got up from on top of you, looking at you as you got out of bed and got dressed. “I'll see you before lunchtime, okay? I promise” you said giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“If you come and I'm not around it's because I might stop by Shibuya today. I have to buy something.”
You nodded as you walked to the door.
“Okay! I love you!” you said walking out.
“Love you more” he shouted from the bed.
If you had stayed with him in bed, maybe that meteorite wouldn't have killed him for 1 minute. 1 minute that for him was another life.
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crushmeeren · 3 months ago
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no bc thinking about akutagawa, the port mafia dog that everyone thinks is so scary (he is) but who is actually the biggest gentleman. who hates plants bc they’re such a hassle to take care of, but who buys you flowers and puts sugar in the water vase to keep them alive ! đŸ«§đŸ«§
who also just loves biting you. who is the biggest dick in bed, choking you and watching you cum with slits for eyes. who’ll kiss your throat right after he bruises it.
i forget if this is canon or not, but i saw somewhere that he doesn’t know what the frilly thing around his neck is called 😭 (i think its a cravat?)
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Oh my FUCK!! Just like that I’m being sucked in and writing about him
 Also I think that’s correct, it’s a cravat. Levi from AOT wore one too.đŸ€€
master list link
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You’re right
. Ryuu is such a fucking guard dog — a Doberman, if you will. He’s tightlipped and terrifying when he tails you around town, or anywhere really.
You want a few inches of space while you’re in the bar? At the store? At a birthday party? Too fucking bad. He sneers at everyone who gets too close, challenging each person who dares chat you up in his presence without a single word. You smack him in the chest when he pushes the line, teasing him with a “down Ryuunosuke, be a good boy.” He huffs, unhappy, but backs off for the time being. Until something sets him off again.
Although you have to use an unfair amount of willpower not to show it, Ryuu’s aware, and smug, about the fact that his protective and obsessive behavior tugs on the part of your brain that tells you to shove him into the sheets when you get home.
This isn’t to go without saying that Ryuu’s such a sweetie when it comes to you. Like tooth rotting sort of sweet. It’s not so much displayed through words, but rather it’s spelled out in his actions. As stated above, the man does not have a green thumb. First off, plants require far too much attention. Attention that he’d rather spend on you. Second, even if he has tried to grow plants before, though he swears he hasn’t, they just seem to mock him. They die and if he’s honest, he can’t be bothered with whether they live or not.
But, for you, Ryuu did just enough research on how to keep flowers off of life support. When Ryuu brought you flowers for the first time and he noticed how your eyes brightened, how you buried your nose into soft petals and inhaled a lungful, only to hum in delight and aim the single most affectionate look he’s ever gotten at him, well, he needed the flowers to live for as long as you willed them to.
Ryuunosuke loves to suck bruises along your throat, your collarbone, any unmarked part of your body he can get his hands on. It absolutely ties into his possessiveness. You tell him he’s a “territorial ass,” but you moan his name and tilt your head to the side, spreading your thighs open as you insult him. You ask him for more kisses without really asking him.
He rolls his eyes but one side of his mouth twists into a smile, fitting himself snug between your legs. He always comes back with “Yeah? Well you’re a fucking brat,” pressing the harsh words into your collarbone. “You think I won’t mark what’s mine? That I’d let anyone not know who owns you?”
It’s got to be common knowledge that Ryuu is a jerk in bed. That he likes to tease, likes to edge you, even ruin your orgasm once in a while because his dick gets hard when you cry. A thrill races down his spine when you let him choke you, stomach drawing in tight. The pads of his fingers press deep into the sides of your throat, making your head throb and your cheeks flush hot to the touch when all your blood rushes to them. He almost bites the tip of his tongue off when your pussy squeezes the life out of his cock.
On the other side, something probably scratches the out of reach itch in Ryuunosuke’s brain when you take the reins from him. He’s always got too much on his plate, and being able to give up control satisfies his secret desire to be taken care of. His expression is never more open, never more loving, more tender than when you’re riding him. It’s slow and steady, you appreciate every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your pussy.
You brace your hands on either side of his head and Ryuu stares up at you, his heavy lidded gaze mirroring yours as he pants, these small puffs of air that are just loud enough to make out. You repeat the smooth, steady rise and fall of your hips, lips parting and a breathy “Ryuunosuke,” drips off your tongue. You play it up a bit, knowing how worked up Ryuu gets when you moan his full name.
It works this time as it has all the others.
His breath stutters in his chest, nails digging in and pinching your ass. “Ryuunosuke, please baby, make me cum. Your cock is so good, help me.” Your pussy squeezes tight around him.
Ryuu’s eyes begin to roll, lids fluttering before he lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re playing with me, angel.” He’s too smart, he realized what you were doing from the get go. He secures his arms around your waist and rolls until your back hits the mattress. “Such a helpless little thing for me, aren’t you princess?” He pushes his hips forward and you swear the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.
Ryuunosuke trails his fingers up the underside of your forearms, tickling you, and laces your fingers together, pinning your hands by your head. He dips down to whisper in your ear.
“You don’t have to worry, my angel. I’ll ruin you. You’ll never think of another man or want someone else’s cock ever again.”
You belong to Ryuunosuke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?
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jinxs-gf · 6 months ago
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chuck’s favorite regular
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jinx x bartender!reader
summary: it’s your first night working at The Last Drop. the stories of jinx being an
interesting customer are true
content, warnings: bar & drinks? jinx calls r ‘toots’, idk how much I like this writing style (bear with me now)
word count: 1.1k
a.n. this was requested but the ask disappeared 😭
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It was your first night bartending at the Last Drop. Silco's bar. He owns a lot of them, close to owning all in the Undercity. This one just so happens to be special. Previously the Hound of the Underground's place. Now Silco proudly resides inside it.
Your future bartending partner, Thieram warned you about your boss's daughter. How she was a wild card and if you happened to get caught in her wrath there was no escaping until she decided to let you out. Not unlike a spider's web, you could only hope she'd let go and not eat you alive. To have mercy.
Though he insists Jinx has none.
He's...kind of right you decide. She's not done anything crazy yet. But she gives off this certain energy, one that screams be careful, to not turn your back on her.
She looks fairly innocent at the moment, at least compared to the bar that's in full rage. Loud music, dangerous games, dancing bodies...who could believe this is the girl that torments Thieram on the daily? Maybe she won't be so bad...
You’re contradicting yourself you realize. It's only your first time meeting, you shouldn't set your opinions on her just yet
She sits on the bar table, kicking her legs and looking at you expectantly.
You gulp, "Can I uh...help you?"
"Yeah you can, toots. Mind getting me my drink?"
Dammit Thieram. He didn't tell you what she orders. He spent so much time warning you about her yet he couldn't simply give you what she drinks?! What if she gets upset that you don't know and unleashes her-
"Earth to toots! Yoohoooo" her hand is shaking aggressively in your face, snapping a few times.
You stand in your spot, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and pulse jumping.
"Uh...what is your drink?" Your voice is meek and careful (and a bit shaky), you felt as if you were poking a bear with a stick. Stupid stupid stupid.
Jinx cackles suddenly and very loudly.
"You crack me up, toots. It's only blood in a bottle."
She drinks blood?! Thieram! How could he not mention-
You try to be as nonchalant as possible despite your own blood running cold.
"So you're like a...vampire? Or-"
She laughs in your face once more, "Oh you poor thing," it's said quite mockingly, "it's a joke! You were totally convinced!"
You blink your eyes once, twice, and shake your head. As if it'll erase the image of a blood sucking Jinx. Your blood...from your neck. A very graphic image your mind unfortunately conjured up.
As if she wasn't intimidating enough, knowing she's loaded with guns and bombs at all times. Imagine if she was a vampire?! You'd be doomed.
However, you were curious now, what if she did have fangs? Maybe you could get a peek-
"My drink is the bottom cabinet in front of you. It gets a special place for Chuck's favorite customer."
Chuck?
You squat down in search for her drink, reach for the lone bottle, "Oh um, who?"
"Oh you've got to know Chuck! He's hilarious! A friend of mine, not my best friend of course. He's a little weird—you can tell him I said that."
You nod along, terrified of the blue eyed menace (one of the many nicknames given by Thieram, you agree. Though even thinking it worries you, what if she can hear your thoughts?). Speaking of Thieram—oh! That’s who she’s talking about.
"You two must get on well," if the man in question's stories were anything to go by, you'd say they didn't get on well. He doesn't enjoy her company, but she certainly enjoys his. By tormenting him.
You only hope you don't land in the same boat as him.
"Oh we definitely do, toots. Who’da thought a girl like me could befriend a scaredy-cat like him? I'd say we'd make good friends too someday. Maybe tomorrow!”
"What's that supposed to mean?" Because to you it sounds like a threat. If you become a good "friend" to her like Thieram is, does that mean you'll get the same treatment? And as soon as tomorrow?! You've barely worked at this place for a few hours and she's already planning on tormenting you by tomorrow!
She doesn't answer your question, instead pointing to (what you assume is) her cup. If the colorful scribbles were anything to go by. And a straw lying right next to it. At least you didn't have to go searching for those.
You nod, gulping. You're hoping to please her, not get on her bad side.
Jinx brings her feet up the counter, crossing and holding them with her hands, rocking playfully back and forth.
She’s dangerously close to the edge, one miscalculated move and she’ll go splat onto the sticky floors.
Maybe it’ll knock some sense into her? Okay that’s rude.
You quietly hand her the drink, plopping the straw in.
Jinx jumps down the counter to sit on the stool, hunched over the bar table to sip. She dramatically smacks her lips, as if taste testing. You’ll admit you were a bit nervous, what if you forgot something in her drink? What if you poured it in wrong the wrong way? Would she get upset over that?
After a few seconds she smiles and nods manically, “10 out of 10! You pour a good cup o’ juice, toots.”
You breathe out relieved, deciding to play along, a little humor could ease your anxiety surely, “Thanks, am I already better than Th- Chuck?”
"You're certainly prettier than he is."
"Oh."
You blank, unsure of what to do with that information. Be flattered? Terrified? Or is she being sarcastic? You continue to play along,
"Flattery will get you nowhere," you joke and only hope it lands.
"It'll get me a free drink," she wriggles her eyebrows.
"Don't you automatically get free drinks? I heard the last guy that asked you to pay mysteriously disappeared."
"You heard right, toots."
You gulp for the—how many times have you done that tonight? She's great at making one sweat.
“It was great getting to know ya toots, but I’m a busy girl. Gotta bounce—think you’ll be okay? Ya know what? You seem like you can hold your own, here—just in case!”
Jinx goes in for a rough hug, and it’s over before you process it at all.
But wait—what was that noise behind you? That sudden weight on your back

Uh oh.
And explosion goes off on you, and for a second you think it’s over.
But no, it’s simply a colorful, glitter bomb. The damage is done though, you’re sweating at your hairline. And your poor heart, it’s practically begging to run out of your chest.
There’s a note left on the counter, is it too hopeful to think it’s a ‘sorry for the bomb I just planted on your back’?
Nope. It’s simply a winky face in purple ink.
And you can't help but wonder...is she flirting with you?
How sick and twisted.
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first time meeting and already down bad for each other? hmm
the request:
Reader is a newly hired bartender that Silco hired. One night it's the usual busyness. Loud music, shimmer people, etc etc. Similarly to "chuck" Jinx enjoys fucking around with them. Little powder bombs and stuff like that.
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maplesyrupsainz · 10 months ago
Note
hi hi! I really like your imagines <3
Could I request a Charles imagine? Where the reader is the daughter of Toto Wolff and she and Charles have been secretly dating. After Charles wins the WDC, the reader hardlaunches their relationship and everyone is freaking out about it.
Thank you sm!!
pairing: charles leclerc x wolff!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: imagine/smau
warnings: just fluff, kind of short too
prompt: custom you and [driver] are finally ready to hard launch your relationship
a/n: this request inspired something in me LOL hope u like it?! wasnt sure if the req wanted smau or written but u got both instead LOL
my masterlist | my 1k celebration
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instagram ->
ynwolff
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liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and 396,184 others
ynwolff merc girl lifeeeee
view all 6,273 comments
user1 helloooo?? the flowers
user2 i bet she gets 100 bouquets a day
user3 i wish i had her life
user4 world's best nepo baby
charles_leclerc would look better in ferrari merch
ynwolff you would say that
mercedesamgf1 back off
charles_leclerc 👀
messages ->
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˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
at first, the idea of sharing your relationship with the world terrified you. the things people might say, what they'd think. but, you realised, as time progressed, that the idea of not sharing and people not knowing about your relationship seemed even scarier; you were becoming somewhat desperate to let the world know that charles leclerc was your boyfriend.
the only issue was gaining your father's approval. you had convinced yourself it would be easy to obtain, but the harder you thought about it the less you agreed with that sentiment. but, you couldn't hide forever.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
the formula one season had flown by you in a rush of lights; you blinked and it was almost over. it had been a thrilling title fight between max verstappen and charles, and this race was the decider.
you're pretty sure that you didn't take a breath for the whole race, closing your eyes on multiple occasions. no one knew what had you so invested in this race in particular; being the mercedes team principal's daughter, you had come to many a race and tended not to be that interested in the sport. in truth, you did enjoy it but it had been your whole life, you assumed it was normal to become somewhat burnt out.
twitter ->
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˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
you had never ran quite like it; from the mercedes garage to ferrari. all you knew was that you had to be there for him when he got out of the car. in that moment, you didn't care who saw or what they thought or if they found out the truth about your relationship with charles. all that mattered was him.
and when you saw him, you knew he felt the same as you did. you broke out into a grin as his eyes caught yours and, before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your face in his hands. shutter sounds and flashings of cameras surrounded you, your head spinning, your heart swelling with pride; your boyfriend had won his first drivers' championship.
instagram ->
f1wagupdates
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liked by charles_leclerc, susie_wolff, and 183,274 others
f1wagupdates after an olympic-esque dash from the mercedes garage to ferrari, y/n wolff joined charles leclerc in the celebration of winning his first ever wdc! is this the hard launch of a secret relationship? what does toto think? 👀 thoughts?
tagged: charles_leclerc, ynwolff
view all 11,183 comments
user5 CHARLES IS THE ONE WHO GOT HER THE FLOWERS
user6 omg i never would've guessed this
user7 charles AND susie in the likes omg😭😭😭
user8 OMG OBSESSED WITH THESE TWO
user9 the way she ran
user10 literally soo iconic
user11 me when
ynwolff
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liked by charles_leclerc, susie_wolff, and 679,926 others
ynwolff sorry dad
tagged: charles_leclerc
view all 14,273 comments
user12 the tshirt HAHAHA
user13 omg she's so real
user14 i still cant believe this
user15 THey R SO CUTE WTF
user16 how did they keep this a secret omg
susie_wolff i love my new son in law!
charles_leclerc đŸ„°đŸ„°
ynwolff love you đŸ™†â€â™€ïž
user17 ofc susie loves them tgthr
user18 wonder what toto thinks 💀
user19 the caption
user20 him bringing her breakfast in bed omg
user21 this is all i'll ever talk abt ever again
user22 f1 twt found dead
user23 we lost a real one gang (y/n wolff)
charles_leclerc love my girl
yourusername đŸ„ș love you crazy amounts
user24 STOP ITTTT
lewishamilton y/n toto said answer the phone
ynwolff my phone is dead rn sorry
user25 💀
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thebearer · 9 months ago
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please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭
should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol
but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.
he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".
"richie said-"
"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"
"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."
so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.
pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.
"carm, h-hey, man-"
"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.
"uh, i-i don't-"
"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.
a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.
pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."
"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.
"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."
carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.
"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"
"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"
"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"
"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."
"nat-"
"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"
"-i am-"
"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"
"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.
sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"
"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."
carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.
"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"
"-i-i'm not-"
"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.
"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."
carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.
"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."
she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.
fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"
carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"
"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"
fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"
"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.
"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.
"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."
fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.
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