#SO sorry to my followers for this really long post i hope you have cut off long posts enabled

[luveline]

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 

“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 

He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 

“Why?” Spencer asks. 

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 

“Okay.” 

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 

“And stuff.” 

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 

“What are you enjoying lately?” 

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 

“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 

“Nothing,” Spencer says. 

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[golbrocklovely]

our girlfriend // sam and colby

A/N: it's my bday and i'm giving you guys a present... aren't i so nice lol i know it's been a LONG time since i posted any form of a fic, and i'm sorry about that. but hopefully this makes up for it a bit. if you squint hard enough, this could basically be a 'careful what you wish for' fic as well (but not really since the boys are just normal and not a demon or vampire). hope you enjoy and let me know what you think !

prompt: you and the boys always had your fun, but you never tried it in public. and now they want to. || fem!reader x sam and colby

trigger warning: SMUT, threesome (but no actual sex), no solby, you are sam and colby's girlfriend…. lucky you lmao, fingering, oral fixation/finger sucking, bossy!bf sam and colby, also very possessive, a wee bit of degradation, mentions of baby, darling, baby girl, love, good girl, slut, and it also takes place slightly in public (but away from everyone)

word count: 2003

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, are you sure about this?" You questioned hurriedly as you rushed up the stairs.

Sam looked back at you, his voice loud over the thumping music of the party. "Yeah, c’mon Y/N. There’s no one up here."

"Probably for good reason." You grumbled.

"You’ve never been one to follow the rules. Don’t start now..." Colby smirked devilishly, his voice right by your ear as he passed you on the stairs.

Reaching the top and with each one of them holding a hand, Sam and Colby pulled you down the hallway. They stopped right outside a door tucked away from the stairs. If someone came up, they would see you. Your heart raced at the idea alone.

Colby leaned his back against the wall as you looked around the corner, glancing at the stairs nervously. He rolled his eyes, pulling you against him. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. You're with us. When have we ever gotten caught?"

You glared up at him, annoyed. "You literally have a rap sheet that proves you don't know how to hide."

"Someone's feeling bratty tonight..." Sam joked playfully, leaning across from you and Colby.

You gazed at him over your shoulder, brows furrowed. "I'm just worried about someone finding out about us. God knows how the fans would react if they knew..."

Colby's finger lightly turned your chin so that you were looking at him. "Knew about what? That we both love to play with our girlfriend, and now we're trying it out in public?"

You stuttered, the lustful glint in Colby's eye making you blush. "Y-yes. Exactly that."

Colby pouted. "But I thought you loved when we both touched you."

"And tasted you..." Sam replied, sounding closer.

Colby leaned his face in, getting close to yours. "And fucked y-"

You cut him off, slapping his chest. "That's not the issue I have. It's the getting caught part. Or someone seeing us."

"But that's what's fun about this," Sam turned you around to face him, Colby's hands still resting low on your hips. "You're getting fucked as a party is being thrown downstairs in our honor. And if anyone tries to find us, they'll see us all up here... with you. So we gotta make sure we don't get caught."

"Especially since no one is allowed up here." You mentioned again.

"Well, we're allowed up here. No one else is." Colby informed.

Your face scrunched up, "I thought the owner said-"

"The owner can suck my dick. If I want to fuck my girlfriend in a house I'm renting out for a party, I'm gonna do it wherever I want to." Colby ranted.

"Excuse me." Sam raised an eyebrow, a light glare thrown at Colby.

"Right, my bad, Sam. Our girlfriend." Colby responded, smiling.

Sam sighed, "Much better."

"Speaking of...." Colby slid his hand under your skirt, pressing your damp panties against your swollen sex. "Our girlfriend is very wet."

You gasped, your body arching against Colby's. He exhaled as your ass grinded into his crotch. His breath was hot against your neck, raising goosebumps across your cool skin.

Sam's eyes danced up your body, studying it as Colby kneaded your clit slowly. Sam hummed when his gaze reached your face, his voice low, "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Kiss me." You shuddered, grabbing his shirt lightly and tugging him closer.

"She's so aggressive when she's needy." Colby chuckled darkly, applying pressure to his movements.

Sam nodded, leaning in and kissing you tenderly. You could barely breathe to begin with but having Sam's mouth on yours and Colby's fingers on your clit, you felt yourself get lightheaded. It was so overwhelming already, and they barely had done anything to you. God, or the devil himself, only knew what they had in store for you.

As Sam's tongue glided into your mouth, tangling with yours, Colby moved your panties out of the way and slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them at an achingly slow pace. Your breath hitched, a moan falling from your lips. Lucky for you, it was muffled by Sam's mouth.

"What did we say, baby girl? You can’t be too loud. And we know how loud you can get." Sam teased.

"Even with the music playing, they would be able to hear her." Colby sneered jokingly.

"Is that what you want? To get caught? To have all of our friends know you're being fucked by us? That you're needy for us?" Sam grunted, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

"I think that's what she wants. She loves to pretend to be such a good girl, but in reality, she's bad." Colby snickered into your ear quietly. "She's a little slut for us."

"Our slutty little girlfriend who can't stop herself from moaning when we touch her." Sam closed the space between you two, gripping your chin so that your eyes were looking into his piercing blues. "You're so pathetic and horny, aren't you?"

You shook your head, a whimper falling from your lips as Colby slid another finger in. You bit your lip hard to not make a noise, knowing it wasn't doing much to help.

"We might have to cover her mouth, since she can't listen." Colby hissed mischievously, biting your neck softly.

"I know the perfect way to do that." Sam placed the tips of his index and middle finger against your lips, "Open." Your lips fell open instantly, and he snaked them in, resting them against your tongue. "Suck."

You immediately started sucking his fingers, whining around them and bobbing your head up and down. Sam growled lowly at the sensation of you sucking off his fingers. He pushed himself closer to you, sandwiching you in between him and Colby completely. You couldn't have escaped their hold if you wanted it, and you definitely didn't want to.

"Her mouth feels amazing, Colby. You'll have to give it a try soon." Sam closed his tightly, focusing on the feeling.

"I remember how good she feels, trust me." Colby leaned down, pressing his lips to your ear, "You always need something in your mouth, don't you darling? You can't help but want to suck on something. On one of us."

Colby's fingers sped up, a groan deep within your throat rocketed out, stifled by Sam's fingers. You kept grinding your ass against Colby, who now was hard in his leather pants. He followed your movements, his hips pressing hard into you. Your hand gripped his wrist, clinging onto the hand that was fucking you. Your other hand held Sam close as your nails dug into his back.

"Are you getting close, baby girl? Do you want to come?" Sam barked.

You mewled, nodding your head desperately. Sam tsked, leaning his forehead against yours. "Not yet, baby. I think you need a bit more help."

His other hand drifted down, stopping right above your clit. He teased you for a moment, the tip of his finger brushing across it ever so gently. Your body shook and both boys laughed.

Colby feigned concern. "Aw Sam, c’mon now. You gotta be nice to her. She's not gonna make it."

"I guess we traded places this time, since you're the one that's always so mean to her." Sam quipped sassily.

Colby faux gasped, "Me? Being mean?" He leaned into your ear, whispering, "I'm not mean, am I love? You like when I treat you rough. I know you do, sweetheart."

You closed your eyes tight, trying to hold yourself back from exploding. Both of their motions were all too much for you, but you didn't want it to end just yet. You needed it to keep going. You just loved being theirs.

Sam pushed his lower half into his hand that was rubbing your clit, both boys now grinding against you. Their cocks were hard, and they were touching you in all the right places; you could feel your orgasm building up to its breaking point. You needed them to say you could let go. You weren't sure how much longer you could last.

"Feel how hard you've made us, baby girl. You want us inside of you? Wanna get filled up by us?" Sam rasped.

You whined and nodded mindlessly. You couldn't even form words if you want to.

"She's squeezing my fingers so tight. God, I can't wait to taste you, Y/N. You're getting so close..." Colby panted. "Maybe we should let her come."

"Only if she deserves it. Do you, baby? Do you deserve to come? Have you been good for us?" Sam taunted, staring into your eyes.

You moaned around his fingers in agreement, shaking your head again.

Sam bit his lip, glancing at Colby for a moment. "She has been following our demands very well. She made me hard just by sucking my fingers."

"You've been such a needy, good girl for us, haven't you? You take our fingers so well. Do you wanna come? Say you want to." Colby lowered his voice, "Use your words, love."

You choked around Sam's fingers, a 'I wanna come' mumbled through his digits.

Colby harshly snapped in your ear, "Who owns this cunt, darling?"

You grunted out a 'You do', eyes pleading with Sam to say you could let go.

Sam smirked, an almost evil glint in his eye. "I think she can come now. What about you, Colby?"

Colby paused, his fingers still moving at their fast pace. Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your back. Your face was flushed, and you felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for Colby to say the magic phrase.

He kissed right under your ear sweetly, his lips then pressed against you. "Come for us, baby."

You cried out around their fingers, your body spasming in ecstasy. Sam finger fucked your mouth, making sure your screams weren't heard over the music as he sped up his fingers on your clit. Colby kept the pace as you exploded around him, your juices running down your thighs. He cooed in your ear, speaking softly that you were a good girl, a good slut for them, and that you were so beautiful when you come.

Your pleasure slowly subsided, Sam and Colby resting against you and their motions still. They breathed with you, kissing along your neck and face as you relaxed.

You were about to say something when all three of you could hear someone walking up the stairs. Sam backed up, removing his hands from your mouth and clit. Colby spun you both around, facing the person coming up the stairs. It was a scramble to make sure you looked okay, and you weren't even sure if you did.

A tall man in an all-black suit, one of the security guards, looked down the hallway at you all. "Excuse me, you can't be up here."

"Uh, sorry about that. My girlfriend wasn't feeling too well and the line for the bathroom was kinda long so we figured she could come up here and use this one." Colby smiled, placing you in front of him to cover up his hard on.

"Are you feeling better now, miss?" The man asked, looking at you.

Sam cut you off, thankfully; since you weren't sure if you could even speak yet. He cupped his hands in front of his body, trying to cover himself up. "Yeah, she's good. We'll make sure she feels better later tonight, though. Just to be safe."

You glanced at Sam, and he gave you a little wink.

"Please follow me back downstairs to the party." The man stated.

You trudged down the hall towards the man, Sam and Colby following close behind. Once the man turned around, you could hear Sam smack Colby's arm, saying 'She's our girlfriend' to him. They bickered back and forth until you got to the bottom of the stairs.

Colby smacked your ass playfully, his voice loud enough for only you to hear, "Don’t go too far, Y/N. We're not done with you yet."

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Shouldn’t come back.

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Hello lovely people, long time no see! This here was inspired by a scene from a tv show about superheroes (I will not be posting the name because I’m not caught up and I want no spoilers, but it rhymes with The Toys) it is once again my try at angst! So I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Word count: 1,415.

Masterlist.

It was late at night, you were watching a film after the long tedious day you had when a sudden knock on your door pulls your attention away from the television.

Choosing to ignore the insistent knocking because of the late hour you higher the volume on your tv. Causing the knocks on your door to suddenly seize.

But after a few minutes they begin once again so you let out a sigh before standing up from your comfortable couch and making your way to your door. Peering through the peephole before you, cursing under your breath at the person on the other side of the door.

“Please detka, open up,” you hear Wanda say and you hold your breath, “I know you’re there, I can feel you,” she whispers and you roll your eyes but nonetheless open up your door.

“What are you doing here Wanda?” You ask harshly, not content to see your ex.

“I was finishing a mission up in the area and I- well, may I come in?” The witch asks softly and you scoff.

“Sure,” you answer, opening your door some more and moving to the side to make room for the redhead.

“So…” she begins as you both stand in the foyer of your home, “it’s good to see you, how have you been?” Wanda asks, looking around your house, eyes taking in how much you’ve erased her from your life.

“Is that really what you came to ask?” You say, a humorless chuckle escaping your lips.

“Uh, no, I didn’t-” Wanda stutters, shaking her head as tears brim in her eyes at your hostility. “Wait. Where’s Sparky?” The witch asks as she looks around, the lack of presence of the dog you once shared making itself known.

“Sparky died. Two years ago,” you say, posture rigged as you cross your arms on your chest to keep the hurt at bay. The redhead witch looking at you with pity, a look you hate coming from everyone, especially her.

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t know” she begins, but you cut her off with a hand in the air.

“Look Wanda, it’s late,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had a long day and I’m not really up for whatever this is,” you say gesturing between you both. “So uh, could you please leave. Also why don’t you call next time before just showing up at my house, alright?” You say as you begin walking towards your door to escort Wanda out.

“You know I can’t call you, not after you blocked my number,” the witch says, and you scoff.

“And yet, you somehow still don’t get the hint that I want nothing to do with you,” you say and Wanda sighs.

“Y/N please, you don’t have to be like this,” Wanda whispers, from behind you as she slowly follows after you, her words making you halt your steps immediately, making you sharply turn around.

“Be like what exactly, Wanda?” You question harshly, a deadly look in your eyes. “You show up to my home, in the middle of the fucking night, asking about Sparky and you want me to just what? Be okay with that?” You ask as you look at Wanda which is when you notice her misty eyed look. “Jesus,” you begin, shaking your head incredulously, “you’ve been drinking.”

“What, no?” The witch chuckles nervously, as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes flitting around to avoid yours.

“Do not lie to me Maximoff,” you say seriously and Wanda breathes before meeting your eyes.

“Look I had one drink, okay,” she says and you immediately know it’s a lie.

“Have you been seeing your therapist? Are you still attending your AA meetings?” You ask, your mask slipping, allowing Wanda to see your genuine concern.

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now. I just came because I miss you baby,” Wanda begins, taking a step towards you, causing you to step back.

“Stop, you don’t get to say that to me,” you say, the mask of indifference slipping as each minute that Wanda is with you passes, “now please, leave.” You say pointing to your door.

“Please, I haven’t seen you in years, I just- I want to spend time with you-“ she begins, but you cut her off.

“Look Wanda, you may not have seen me in years, but I can’t say the same about you,” you begin, “Because I see you. I see you EVERYDAY, every damn day. I see you on my way to work, because you’re all over the damn billboards. I see you when I’m watching my favorite TV shows, because you just happen to be in every goddamn commercial. So yeah, I may be out of your life, but unfortunately you’re still very much in mine, and you have no idea how hard that is. How hard I desperately want to move on, but I can’t because I am constantly reminded of you, and what we had so please, do me a favor and leave me the hell alone,” you say, ending your rant with tears finally slipping past your eyes.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t know I- look, I’m really sorry,” Wanda stutters.

“I don’t want your apologies, okay?” You say, shaking your head harshly, “I just want you to leave me the hell alone so that I can try to continue building on my life. Alright, so go back to your Avengers tower, go back to the life of glitz and glamour you so desperately wanted,” you yell, arms flailing in distress. “Go back to the life where you could drink and fuck whoever you wanted without a care in the world, alright. Return to playing house with Vision and please just forget about me like how I’m trying to forget about you!” You exclaim, causing Wanda to stumble backwards into your wall before a humorless laugh escapes her lips and she slides down the wall, tears rushing down her face.

“I can’t go back,” she begins, hands trembling in distress. “I don’t want to go back,” she whispers, looking up at you from the ground with the most bewildered eyes you’ve seen on her and you frown before you kneel down in front of the redhead witch.

“Wanda, what? What’s going on? Talk to me. What happened?” You ask softly.

“It’s just too hard, I can’t- I can’t do it anymore,” she cries, as leans her face further into your hands, body trembling as she takes in sobbing breaths.

“Yes you can Max, this is what you’ve always wanted, the life of a hero, you’ll figure it out, you always do,” you whisper encouragingly.

“No, no, you don’t get it. There’s just been so many casualties. I lost you and I just don’t think I can’t get past this,” she cries, moving forward to hug you.

“You will, Wanda, you’ll figure it out, you always do,” you say, hugging her before pulling back slightly to cup her face in your hands, “you’re the smartest person I know Max,” you say with a soft smile, “you’ll get through it.” You whisper, thumbs softly caressing her cheekbones. Causing Wanda to look into your eyes before moving forward suddenly and pressing her lips into yours. “Wanda.” You begin in between kisses, “no, no, this isn’t a good idea,” you say, pulling back slightly causing Wanda to follow after you.

“Baby, please,” she whispers brokenly.

“No Wanda, you’re clearly drunk,” you say before pulling away to stand, “and I’m tired of playing this back and forth game with you. So if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and let you know that you definitely shouldn't come back. I can't keep doing this, it’s not healthy for you or for me,” you sigh and Wanda nods solemnly.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you, one day I’ll be good enough for you. I promise,” Wanda says once she makes it to your door and you shake your head when she turns to face you.

“I’m not holding my breath for empty promises anymore Wanda, just go,” you say full of resignation and the witch swallows the knot in her throat.

“I truly am sorry,” Wanda says one last time.

“I know you are,” you whisper, before shutting your door in the face of the person that was once the love of your life.

[delugguk]

Only Mine, Nobody Else's.

pair: jungkook x reader.

genre: stablished relationship, smut, fluff.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: unprotected sex.

summary: there's you, who finds little things like eating perilla leafs as normal. then there's him,who finds such topics as horrendous. for him, this type of convos shouldn't even exist. so who'll win this battle? it's better to find out, now.

a/n: hellooooo here's the alternative version of THIS. finally!! I wrote this the same day I published the first drabble but never got to finish it until now, so I hope you enjoy this hehe. I really love them ㅠㅠ but I'll shut up now and enjoy their cute dynamics 😩 I'm sorry I took toooooo long to post but my irl schedule is kinda ass :( LET ME KNOW YALL REACTIONS!! I do appreciate it 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

everything can happen during dinner but.. let me explain, okay?

when you start a topic.. normally, your smart and super interesting boyfriend rambles around until he can't stop his pretty mouth from moving - not that you complained though, you adore listening to him.

but as interesting as it could be, there was some nights were each topic jumped from fun conversations to.. sudden serious ones.

like tonight.

A new trend has seemed to flow around socials making everyone have these interesting conversations that.. you're not really sure if you vibe with them to be honest - but it is what it is as soon as seho, jungkook's best friend, brings this topic to the table.

and yep, you wanted to chop his balls right in that moment.

you could swear you were having a good time until that moment came. you and jungkook were oblivious to the matter for some reason so when you're having dinner with your friends, this sudden theme really got you out off guard because you just knew how jungkook was gonna get.

"so what is it about?" jungkook asked and now that you think about it, you wished he could just.. not pay attention but.. oh well.

"well, it's basically a question about.. you letting somebody else help your girlfriend separate her perilla leaf-"

"hell nah." jungkook cuts him out of his sentence.

damn.

"wait.." seho's chuckles, "you didn't even let me finish and you're already prohibiting that from happening." finding the situation funny.

you only ironically rolled your eyes with an ironic smile too.

"you make questions knowing well the way he is.." you say but it wasn't annoying.

"what's love if there's not a little spice to it?" he laughs. oh you hated him.

not really. but you know what I mean.

jungkook's just listening until he began to speak with a cocky grin. "do you really think I'll let y/n get feed by another man?" a small scoff of a laugh leaving his mouth, "yeah sure." as he brushes his hair back with both hands.

just laying back on his sofa, casually looking so fine. but this wasn't the time to think about that.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a man, you know? It's just any other friend." says yoongi.

"whatever, I don't care. I wont allow it."

you chuckle. "mm.. why not?" sounding more curious, but you really wanted to know why he is so against it. "I don't see nothing wrong about sharing food?"

"not this way??"

"exactly?" seho's following just after jungkook.

"you, shut up." you point at seho. - now looking back at jungkook, "what do you mean 'this way'?"

"mm.. babe, this isn't just something you can share, you know?"

"but.. why not?"

both him and seho sigh. but just before they could talk, luckily, the theme dies as soon as yoongi successfully changes the topic to some stupid funny video he saw these days.

the fact that seho knows about jungkook's possessive/jealous behaviours makes this worst. they're like best friends, for god's sake.

after that little moment, not even a single wrinkle of happiness painted on your boyfriend's face but a slight eyebrow furrowing instead and it's just that his reaction to the matter was... priceless.

jungkook had so much to say but so little to think.. completely blinded by the thought of someone feeding his girl, this obviously wasn't going to end here.

..and you both knew it.

when you arrive to your apartment, jungkook didn't wasted any time to continue your conversation and it's just that.. he was so predictable sometimes, or maybe you knew him too well.

"what did you meant about that?" his voice sounds genuinely curious when he closes the door behind you.

"about.. what?" taking off your jacket as you respond, he smacks his lips in annoyance.

"you know what I'm talking aboutㅡ bam, hi" voice suddenly changing into a whisper-y cute tone when he kneels down to kiss his son.

"..hm?" and as he gets up, he takes your hand leading into the living room.

he seats first. tattooed hand giving little soft but strong palms at the other side of the sofa when he motions you to seat beside him.

when you cross your legs, you give yourself just the perfect enough space between him and you just so you don’t get any other contact with his dangerous body 'cause right now this wasn't your sweet, sweet boyfriend at his best. - not that he’ll do something bad to you, but because you were very weak when it came to having him close..

"are we.. really having this conversation?”

blinking many times as if it wasn't obvious, "uh.. yeah??" he answers.

you sigh. "okay." pausing, "shoot."

"do you really not care?"

"about what? food?"

he glances at you.

you exhale. "It's not that I don't care. It's more of me.. thinking it's not that serious."

his mouth drops into a little gasp. "how isn't it that serious? my friend could easily be feeding you.. you."

"so?"

"so???" he feels so offended. "are you really-"

"no, okay, wait. I do care about that. I dont agree about them feeding me. I don't like that either.. what the hell." you confirm because you realize. "what I'm trying to say is, they won't be feeding me."

"how?"

"because they will just help me separate the leafs, silly. they don't necessarily have to give them in my mouth?"

"but most people do. unconsciously."

"you do?"

"yes. and I think you can tell. I always do it with you."

"but that's because we're dating.."

"it's because I like you. romantically, silly." he flicks your head, making you blink.

"of course, so that makes sense!" you say. "I don't think a random friend will-- wait, friends can also do it if they like you.. as a friend?"

"uh-uh” he nods his head. “that doesn't exist when it comes to this food."

"what's so different about this?"

"you really don't know, huh?"

nodding your head, you shrink your shoulders as you keep silent for a few seconds and he crosses both his arms looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“what?” you playfully exclaimed as you’re also confused but jungkook just pushes his hair back once again, taking a big breather followed with an exhale. “babe," you continue, hands cupping his face. “tell me.” as your face gets closer, eyes trying to read his.

"they could touch your lips with the tip of his fingers." he says. big pupils staring at your lips when he’s soon piercing your gaze.

you do notice. butterflies in your stomach, god.

“no, they won't."

"yes they will and I can't let that happen."

you sigh. "babe, is not that big of a deal. you act as if that will make me fall in love with them.” then you pause to say, "which, it would never happen, by the way."

"but you could."

"no, I won't." you affirm.

"yes? you would." but he keeps being stubborn..

"no? I wouldn't?"

you both pause staring at each other and you roll your eyes.

"I still stand with what I said during dinner though." leaning back on his seat, you’re not longer cupping his face.

"honey, me helping your friend or my friend isn't going to change anything."

"you never know.."

"I think you should stop watching too many dramas. their messing with your little head." you playfully say while softly pulling one of his hair strings.

but he rolls his eyes. "how can you say that?" starting his funny drama. "those things definitely doesn't affect the way I think.." he pauses. "but If that was the case, then they'll be totally right because If it happens in dramas it could happen in real life."

"You're delusional.."

"No I'm not?"

"..and you want me to take you seriously?”

“babe.” jungkook warns, voice sharp.

“okay, okay..” you side smile. “I get it.”

“can you listen to me?”

"always."

"you can't.. you can't still do it for him or anybody that isn't me." he’s serious but his voice is so endearing..

taking a deep breath, you rest one hand against your cheek when you look directly into his eyes. "why though?"

"because I say so."

"mm… that still don’t help."

"yeah, it does."

"you can't just give me that answer as your reason why?"

"just did."

you lightly punch his shoulder. "jungkook!"

he laughs.

“you’re being childish right now.” you fake cry.

"okay, okay.." breathing, he goes back to being serious. "either way you still can't help."

rolling your eyes for the 281 time, you annoyingly respond with, "are you going to keep saying that?" pausing. "like is this about you thinking that's how I'll end up falling in love with somebody else? or… what?”

"mm.. yeah?" he's sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious?"

"how is it obvious?" you frown your eyebrows.

"because he'll give you one perilla leaf and you know how.. when somebody can't separate them, sometimes there's have to be another person to help, right?" he breathes as you nod. "well.. that person is, of course, you!" he argues, "and that could make you end up holding hands with him!”

"I- what?" he's unbelievable.

“as soon as I blink!" he continues - pointing at his eyes. "he has already taking you away from me!"

your reaction is.. well, you don’t even know how to react as he says all of this. only thing that could leave your mouth was, "jungkook.. you can't be serious now.."

"well I am?" he’s all pouty and annoying but you needed to make him understand your point of view and that’s all you think when his hands are lightly hitting his own thighs in frustration.

"well, that's ridiculous." now you’re the one leaning back into your side of the sofa.

"It is not?!"

"It is, and it doesn't even makes sense. I won't hold somebody's hand just because they helped me?" you blink several times as something that’s so obvious.

"but- how can you say that? this does makes sense and it can totally happen!"

then pausing, you decide to tease him instead even though you’re still serious. “are you, perhaps.. talking by experience? ..and that's why you're saying this to me?"

"no!” hands brushing his own face in frustration. "that's not why I'm saying this."

"then why you get so mad about it? It doesn't make sense to me. explain how it works because I do not understand and believe me when I say I'm having a hard time trying to." giving up, you give him a good opportunity to make you understand his point of view in full detail but that’s only if he want it though. you weren’t going to force him to do anything.

he was clear of it.

as soon as you said that, jungkook takes a short time of silence to think. rubbing his chin, rubbing his face.. you can clearly see he's really making up his mind for the way he keeps zooming out into his complex mind.

that could be pretty sometimes.

"let’s say.." he quickly nibbles his lip ring as his dimples slightly pronounce more and that's when you confirm for the second time that he wants to make this right. "..you have a friend, a girl friend.” you nod as he speaks. “and she needs help to separate all of her perilla leafs.."

"Aha.." you slowly nod your head.

"would you like it if I help? It'll take a lot of time.." his eyes feel so heavy looking at yours like he really wants you to say what he think is the right answer..

"..yes?"

but your answer is still very.. unbothered and that makes jungkook open his mouth with both hands on his head in a dramatic manner.

"yes???" he’s back to being exalted. “that’s really your answer?” he chuckles but it’s not even a friendly one. more of a sarcastic one.

“I mean.. what do you want me to say?! I just think it’s normal?”

“n-normal?” and there’s that sarcastic grin all over again. “why.”

"because.. it's just food?"

he covers his face in disbelief. "but I'm the one giving it to them.." he pauses. "Isn't it like if I was deeply caring for them? that's why it's wrong! It can look bad."

"not for me.." you look around.

he sighs for the 10th time smacking his lips as he reveals, "babe, you can't help others with perilla leafs because it'll look like you have second intentions with them."

"who said that?" now you're the one rolling your eyes.

jungkook sighs, rubbing his eyes. "it’s something to flirt about.”

“flirt?”

“yeah." he leans his body a little closer to yours, staring at your eyes almost intensely. you felt tension. not a bad one necessarily.

"have you done that?" genuine question.

"no!" he whines with the same pout on his lips. "why do you keep asking me this?”

“genuinely curious.. and you’re saying a lot of things.” you say.

he rolls his eyes. “I know a lot of people that do it..”

“how?”

"well.." he takes one of your hands to caress it while he speaks, "you know how hard they are to separate, right?"

"yeah..?"

"you normally will have to lean closer to that person in order to do so." he pauses. eyes piercing at yours when his voice goes two tones down. "people like closeness."

you nervously clear your throat. "ah.. yeah," immediately changing the direction this was taking— "so.. imagine we're eating on a cute restaurant-“ you fix your posture and jungkook only grins to himself. he has made you feel nervous.

he liked that.

“…with a friend, it doesn't matter if it's a woman or man” he nods, paying attention to your words. “and I can't help like you said.."

“aha..?”

“if I’m minding my business in that situation but my friend needs help, does that mean you’ll be the one helping them?”

"of course not." tone? annoyed and very serious.

"why not?"

"because I don't care if it's a woman or man, I shouldn't be helping anybody that isn't you. MY girlfriend."

that kinda made your stomach flip, let's not lie here.

"but then who'll help them eat?"

"nobody."

"jungkook!" you call him out.

but all he does is shrink his broad shoulders. “what? It's easy! nobody helps them! don't they have arms of their own?" he annoyingly responds.

"but that's so ass. it's not like you're giving them food directly into their mouth?!"

"..and? I still don't care! If I say you shouldn't then you shouldn't."

you raise your eyebrows. “okay boss?”

jungkook exhales, “I'm not saying that. but.. it’s just what's obvious? I can't help either and we're dating."

"..and you're possesive."

"I'm not possessive.

"yes, you are."

"okay, maybe a little but I'm not most of the time."

and that makes you laugh for sure. “see how you shamelessly lie to yourself, gosh.”

now he’s the one raising his eyebrows. “lie? do you want to know what’s a real lie?” he questions.

“yes.” you sarcastically smile.

“the fact that I don’t want to fuck for your stupid answers and the way that I hate how my solution to this has to be to fuck you silly.” then he whispers to himself, “fuck.” really wanting that to happen.

you were frozen, didn’t expected him to say all that. he’s surely crazy too because why did he had to say it while having that nasty smile on his face? why.

“then why don’t you act on it?” you tease back.

“because that’s a “lie”. he smirks, “told you I’ll say a real lie.”

“I hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” he smiles but then, goes back to the main theme. “listen to me, doing that.. I just think it’s thoughtful. like you’re clearly showing you deeply care for that person, you know?” then he pouts, “from my point of view.. we should be the only ones helping each other.. nobody else.”

you sigh. “okay.. I see what you mean. but I still think it depends on how you perceive it though.”

“fine, now you’re the one who needs to explain.” he said that with a slightly annoyed tone that made you chuckle.

“I think you keep seeing it as something romantic and that’s why you can’t accept it.”

“..and you think it’s not?”

“if I considered that to be romantic you think I’ll be reacting this way?”

“…no..”

“there’s your answer.” you smile.

"just.." he exhales. "take care of me and me only, yeah?" plastering his forehead against yours, his palms holds your cheeks ever so delicately when he says, "I will not feel comfortable if you take care of others in that manner when you have me. specially me. your boyfriend." voice so soft while pointing at himself and god, does he was really cute sometimes. "…would you like it if I took care of your friends?"

and at that question you take your time to think.

"I think it depends on the person too, jungkook.."

"why?" he responds as he is genuily curious.

"because.. Imagine if the friend we’re eating with needs help with their perilla but let’s say I’ve eaten that many times with them and everything was always fine,” jungkook nods his head as he carefully listens. “..so in this case, since they’re my friend I know them the most right?”

"yeah."

“but they’re asking for help, your help, when I know they could handle themselves just right..”

“I see where this is going..” there’s a little building smile on jungkooks lips.

“me seeing them acting dumb just so you could help them— of course that’ll make me definitely jealous.”

"you see?!" he suddenly raises his voice in excitement. "that's what I'm saying!" smiling brightly at you.

"but I'll be more mad because of you not noticing this person second intentions!" you defend yourself. "and because my friend must know I'm obviously dating you!"

"but see? you'll still get jealous, and this just meansㅡperilla leafs could lean into romance! you basically said it yourself! It's a way of flirting.." he says, looking very triumphant.

and at his reaction, you just roll your eyes smiling through it because you can't help it at this point.

"yeah..whatever!" you rapidly correct yourself in which he laughs. "all I'm saying is.. that I could only get jealous in circumstances like these because then I'll know this friend is obviously shamelessly flirting with you."

"but I wouldn't be falling in love with them." he says.

then suddenly, being caught off guard, you blink. “meaning… that you’ll help?”

"nope, I still wouldn't." he warmly says. "since I can't be comfortable with you doing it, I have to keep on my word. I can't do things that I wouldn't like someone do to me." then he adds, "and I would not fall in love with them, because I love you." he finishes saying when he plays with your fingers and his eyes tenderly lingers at yours.

"but.. you never know." voice small, you shyly say.

"no, I'm clear of it." affirming with a confident side smile. "I only have eyes for you, love." he says, gently grabbing one of your hands to leave a lingering kiss on top of it when your eyes can’t stop looking at his sweet actions. you do adored him so much..

"shit, I can't even look at other girls if it isn't you. I love you too damn much." he then chuckles when your laugh merges with his.

lovey dovey eyes staring at his.. “I love you too..”

with a smile on your lips, he mirrors your face too.

that night you both ended up fall sleep hugging each other on his big sofa. you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable than this.

the other night though..

“should I fuck you? nah… I don’t think you deserve it.”

you must’ve seen this coming. eager times always results into this. mostly when a jealous jungkook was very much present. you couldn’t believe how you were so easily lured into his words but the more you get to know and see the new sides of your boyfriend, the more you fell in love and the more you get turned on by him.

you couldn’t resist him in situations like these and it’s just that a jealous jungkook wasn’t just something you got to see everyday. he is normally pretty chill, but whenever he wasn’t.. oh boy.

…you whine with that. "Jungkook.."

"Jungkook, what? now you wanna beg?" a smug grin paints his lips.

you whine as you try to squeeze your legs.

"mm-uh." he opens your legs once again. "don't even dare to take this view away from me."

"but I'm so wet.."

"I know baby. but I can't fuck you if you keep playing around when I'm so serious." he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. "dead serious."

"I won't let anyone else fuck me if it isn't you."

"are you sure about that?"

"one hundred percent."

"No lies?"

"No lies."

and he smiles when a finger slides through your clit up and down teasing on it. "torturing you is like torturing me.." he sighs. "fucking wet." licking his lips. "want to eat you again."

"no," you fake cry still feeling his now, moist fingers. "fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"is that so?"

"eunggg"

“you will have to keep waiting then.” he smirks before going down on you all over again.

"fuck, I love eating your pussy so much. always so wet and greedy for me." his voice’s raspy when he spits on it, just adding more into your dripping pussy. "I love making a mess out of you." he groans.

his tongue rapidly moves up and down as he adds a certain weight on it that makes you want to scream your lungs out. - making out with your clit, one finger slides caressing your folds very teasingly.

"jungkook.." you cry.

"what, baby?" he lowly breathes, eating your cunt still. just this time looking up at you.

when you look down the sight is just so fucking hot. your hands hold onto his hair as he gives you those puppy but very dominant eyes. he loves teasing you like this. he knows how much you love when he treats you like this.

"babe.." your hips thrust into his mouth. as you expose your neck to him.

jungkook leaves a slow kiss into your clit very sensually. "fuck.." he sighs as your arousal mixed with his saliva, dripped down your ass. your pussy pulsating and clenching like crazy. "what do you want?" voice raspy.

"fucking make me cum, babe. please" you whine, trying to touch your clit with your fingers the moment jungkook stopped eating you. - he takes his hands off you.

"not yet baby.. can't let you cum just yet." he sensually and very much needy bites his lower lip. piercing just shining. him very full of desire, just wanted to slide his hard dick along your wet folds. he wanting to feel you coating his length. make a mess out of you, make you beg for him to get fucked - to want him to destroy you. he wanted you to be left thinking about him only, to let you know how you were his and his only even though he was pretty sure he couldn't claim a person, neither you. but he still very much wanted to. he wanted you to scream you were his and his only. he wanted to have you whole. he also wanted to punish you for ever thinking about having help for someone else but him. is not like nobody could help you but why would you ask or need another person's help when he was right there? it made no fucking sense.

he could be seems as calm and collected from outside but his want and need into wanting to ruin you, begging for him until his name could be marked onto your skin were just fucking growing so much. he wished he could just have you like this forever.

"you make me fucking crazy. I shouldn't even be treating you like this. I should let your fucking pussy scream for me. be left untouched until it's begging for me to be touched." he murmurs, palming himself with one hand as his other one rest on your thight and his legs keep yours spread out enough to feel every blow of breeze as he constantly slaps his dick on your clit from time to time and the sticky sounds going in and out of his head made him want to devour you and swallow you whole. he felt feral, his point of possessiveness getting the best of him but fuck, you deserved this. he needed to show you to fucking behave and not say that stupid shit in front of him -or anyone- ever again. It shouldn't even be a topic of conversation at this point. It should be obvious too.

so that's why he's sliding his thick length along your slit and juices, hissing and cursing to himself a lot - closing his eyes every now and then because his desire into fucking your sopping pussy was getting into him.

"I fucking want you all to myselfㅡfuck." he moans. "I can't let nobody else see you like this." he then exhales, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. "only me.. fuck."

"I want to fuck you so bad but you don't deserve it." he tortures himself.

you cry and move your hips along him for more friction and it's so sticky between both your genitals, you feel so horny for him.

"why do you do this to me.." his lidded eyes gazes at you. "..hm?" he slaps one of your thighs. "you want me to fuck you stupid?" he takes both your legs, placing them at the side of his shoulders. "Is that what you want?" he pants, voice heavy and gone while he continues teasing his tip between your folds. "fffuck.. tell me - baby.. do you want me to fuck you so bad?"

"nngn yes.." you cry, feeling very hot and needy for him. your hips keep moving with tip and the feeling was so hot.. you were so wet it was an absolute mess down there. "babyㅡfuck. fuck me please.. fuck me." you beg.

"tell me how bad you want me to." he watches as his dick masturbates along your legs. he starts slow, later on hard when he's already starting moving his dick back and forth, pressing a bit hard on your pussy between your folds. "should I let you have it?" he scoff clicking his lips and a grin playing along. his legs also getting sticky with your arousal. "I don't think so.." he teases.

"baby please.." you arch your back, body distorting, nipples very much erect, your own hand squeezed your boob. shit, you wanted him so fucking bad. "I won'tㅡah. I won't do that again." you look at him with pleading doe eyes.

"do what?" he dares. eyes cloudy as he glances at his tip rubbing against your needy pulsating clitoris.

"ask stupid questions like that ever again." you moan as you try to open your legs but he keeps them close to his neck, adding more pressure to his dick. breathing hard.

"stupid, huh?" he rasps, chuckling a little about it. lidded eyes piercing at you. his tip moving a little more sensual and faster along your clitoris. He gives small slaps to it while he slides his tip.

It feels so good.

"mhmh-" you feel like crying, the pleasure only rising.

his cocky laugh resonating through your whole body.

"wish you’ve said that earlier.." he whispers. "because then I wouldn't be fucking losing my mind right now." pausing. "you're mine okay?" he says while introducing himself into your needy hole.

the moment he introduces himself, you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely fully put his dick in. "fuckㅡbaby, relax." jungkook opens his mouth into a gasp. "do you want me to cum now?" breathing heavier.

“nno.. but you feel so goood.” you swallow your words when you feel the leaks of your pussy. jungkook is the only person that has ever made you feel this horny.

“fuck.. baby.. how am I so lucky?” he said that one last thing more to himself than you.

after not taking it anymore he makes you ride him instead. “jump on me.” and you do. “fuck yeah, nice and hard baby.. so good..” as he holds your waist with his big hands.

eyes looking up and down your body it was as if he was admiring you. the woman he has in front of him. the perfect sculpture ever made, the hottest girl he has ever crossed his heart and eyes into. it was getting a lot so his natural reaction was to delicately examine each part of your body like how his hands fit so perfectly into your waist, they way your vagina swallowed him just right.. how wet you always were for him.. just the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wants you makes him crazy. the way you close your eyes with each jump or bite your lips giving him that pretty nasty look with a side fucked out smile he loves so much.. you were so sensual, he absolutely loved that.

“I love you so much.” he says before leaning your body against his just so he could start fucking you back and that made you scream.

“agh! mmfuck”

he was going sort of fast and deep just how you like it. the way you could feel his breathing against your neck made your nipples get harder but also because of the little rubs in had with his chest. you tried putting your boobs on his face which was a success so jungkook started to lick them or tried to because he was fucking you so fast now it was getting messy.

“I want to cum.” you say as you’re getting close.

“don’t cum like this.” he answers when he’s already flipping you stomach down, ass up. “let me see that pussy swallow my cum.” when he slaps your ass making you arch your back.

“fuck.”

you closed your legs and leaning your chest into the bed. this position making you hold your boyfriends dick a bit tighter.

he exhales with a ‘ho’ sound when he slaps your ass once again. “you just get better, hm baby?”

damn it he sounds so fucked out.

you felt so full you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna cum!”

“fucking do it, I can’t wait neither.”

as soon as you do he starts fucking you with paused but hard and deep thrusts. your legs were shaking, it’s like he knows exactly how to get you over it. when he cums inside you, the sight of it was what made him more crazy.

“swallowing my cum just right, huh? fuck..” he squishes your ass to the point it leaves a red stain. “how you’re still so deliciously tight….”

and without noticing, you were horny once again..

if you were going to tell everything that happened that night.. you’re sure you wouldn’t handle to finish with just a few paragraphs but you could guarantee that everything that happened was worth enough to let anybody with more than their mouth open..

[504py]

Do you have any thoughts on yandere SDV Harvey?🤔

i sure do!!!! i think i got a little carried away 😭😭😭 i hope i delivered!

Yandere Harvey Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, munchausen syndrome by proxy, implied murder, implied NSFW, Harvey's a little weird about bodily fluids and food, long post ahead!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

How the relationship started...

Let's say, he knows you outside of his work, and somehow, you're the one person in Stardew Valley who has never entered his clinic before. Honestly, you'd have drawn his attention right then and there because of your strange imperviousness to harm or disease.

Like... You? That farmer who goes down into the mines every other day to fight monsters has never been injured? You, who works day and night to the point of exhaustion has never gotten sick and required medical assistance?

The fact that you weren't one of his patients would worry him to his bones.

Even if you weren't one of his patients, he'd have befriended you outside of work. Perhaps at the saloon, after hours, and one of the very rare times he's seen you relax.

He notices the slight limp as you enter, different from your usual gait. When he asks, you chalk it up to a rock in your boot. Harvey sends you a disapproving stare and a furrowed mustache, and you loosen up.

You tell him you tripped while running away from a slime in the mines. And that you maybe pulled something while running. And maybe you lifted something wrong yesterday and hurt your back. And-

Harvey takes off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyebrows, stressed.

"And not once did you think to come visit me?"

"Thought it would go away if I just slept and drank enough water."

His gaze softens.

"..I really do advise it. Please."

Your fingers play with your glass. He can see a bruise forming on the side of your wrist, and the cuts and calluses on your skin.

"...I'll do it tomorrow."

He sighs slightly.

"Well, since I can't do anything for you right now, I'll at least buy you a drink."

"You can do that?"

"Hey, it numbs the pain. Painkiller." He jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. He realizes he likes the sound of your laugh.

"But- wait, don't take that as real medical advice. Really. Please."

That pulls another laugh out of you, louder, and pink warms his cheeks as he laughs heartily alongside you.

The next evening, Harvey waited all day for you to come in. It was nearing closing hours, and he was worried you had disregarded his advice, but right as he got up to start closing the clinic, the door opens, and there you are, leaves in your hair and your muddy shoes leaving a track on his tiles.

He's elated, he knows he shouldn't be, considering why you're even here, but he's so glad you listened to him, so glad you're here. He looks noticeably flustered, his hair is slightly out of place, his glasses are sliding down his nose, and his tie is loose.

"O-Oh, hey there. You finally came in."

"Were you waiting for me? I apologize. It looked like you were about to close up."

He waves your worries away with a dismissive hand, "Ah, what's one more patient? Come on, you look like you really need my help, anyways."

You follow him into a room, cringing at the muddy mess you leave on the floor.

"Sorry for that- I can clean up after we're done."

Harvey insistently shakes his head, sighing your name, "No, no, can't have you doing that, not in the condition you're in." He motions over to the bed, you sit on the edge of it.

"Besides, I haven't even started my assessment of you yet, but I already know you're gonna need a few days of rest at least. Doctor's orders."

He smiles softly at your annoyed expression, donning his stethoscope as you straighten your posture slightly, readying for him to place the other end of the apparatus on you.

"...See, you've got an abnormal heart rate for someone who is at rest."

He notes the warmth of your skin under his palm, resting against your back.

"Have you been feeling ill recently? Runny nose, coughing, headaches, anything of the sort?"

"U-Uh, no." You shake your head, playing with the fabric of your trousers. Nervous.

"...You seem rather flustered. Any reason?"

Your eyes glance up at his, he cocks his head, and you immediately look back down to your feet.

"...Nah."

Harvey smiles, knowingly, and the rest of the appointment continues as normal.

Expectations...

Following this, he'd be more obvious in his attempts to court you. His courting attempts would feel rather old-fashioned, but I think there's a lot of heart in them. I feel like Harvey would be a little bit of a sucker for romantic things, so you'd definitely be receiving letters, all from a secret admirer, of course.

He is confident that he likes you, but he'd carry a lot of anxiety about being so upfront about it, and that perhaps you wouldn't feel the same way.

The letters he sends you would be brief yet sweet. Short messages to pick you up for the day, just wanting to be a part of your life.

"If you ever feel like all the work you do isn't appreciated, know that I am always here, and I always do. You are doing great."

You'd tell him about the letters you've been receiving, during one of your evenings together at the bar. It'd make him blush. Oh, his letters were so important to you that you had to gush about them to a friend?

"And... What do you think of them? The letters?" His eyes are slightly wider than they should be, but the reflections on his glasses hide his faintly, much-too focused expression.

You shy from his eye contact, "...I think they're really sweet. But honestly, I wish they'd just... say it to me directly instead of hiding like this. I want to communicate, talk to them, y'know? Have a conversation, and stuff.."

Harvey blinks, wets his lips.

"What do you think you'd do if he-" He clears his throat, "-they did?"

You frown a little, mulling over the thought for a bit.

"...I'd go on a few dates with them, see if things work out."

His exhale is shaky, he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Who do you think it is?"

You meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, his cheeks are red too, but that might be the alcohol... Though you realize he's not the type to get flushed when drunk.

"...Is it you?"

His fingers around his glass tremble, and his bottom lip quivers.

"I.. w-well..." He pushes his glasses up, nervously running a hand through his hair. You giggle, and he relaxes.

"Yeah." He smiles warmly.

"Yeah?" You chirp out a laugh again, "I figured."

Although Harvey was usually one who didn't have any problem holding eye-contact at all, now he found himself unable to look at you for too long without getting giddy like a schoolgirl and having to look away to save his racing heart.

That night, you two would be declared a couple. He teased you, wondering where that "first few dates then we'll see how it works out" phase went. You said it was different if it was him, and he had to hide his face in his hands to conceal his boyish, cheesy grin.

His first show of affection would be the next morning, when he brought you a bouquet of flowers to your doorstep, but upon arrival, seeing your expansive field of vegetation, he realized it was perhaps a bit stupid to gift flowers to someone who grows them.

Nonetheless, you accepted them from an embarrassed Harvey gratefully, saying you've wanted to try growing these for a while. Lo and behold, the next time he shows up, with a more thought-out gift this time, he sees a few new flower pots on your front porch.

Harvey as your boyfriend is strangely rather maternal. He tends to be quite the worrywart, always fussing over any cuts or bruises you may get while going about your day, making sure you eat and get enough rest, and always making sure you're dressed properly.

Oh, the different kind of monster Harvey turns into during the winter LOL. He will stay posted by your door, making sure you don't step a foot outside without a thick coat or gloves.

He does enjoy more than he likes to admit, though, when you still feel cold and he has to give you his coat or his scarf. It makes him all smiley and he thinks you look adorable in his clothing.

I think, his deepest desire, is for you to always stay safe, and that he is the one to provide that safety. I mean, with him being a doctor, he is the only person qualified to look after you anyways, but he still does get jealous.

He gets really upset when he's out of the clinic for a bit, and finds out that Maru was the one who tended to your wounds instead of him.

He gets more jealous when you tell him about the work you did that day, and another person was with you.

What do you mean you spent the evening fishing while conversing with Elliott? That could've been him...

What do you mean you spent the afternoon in the library with Penny? Wha- Gunther winked at you!?

Harvey really does want to spend more time with you, but he has a duty to attend to.

Unless...

Punishments...

Maybe, one day, Harvey will stop worrying so much over your health. He'll let you do your thing as you please, though it would hurt him to see you going about your day so haphazardly. But he'll hold back on his usual worried malewife nagging, and just let you do you.

One day, your dangerous lifestyle will catch up on you, and maybe you'll catch a cold, or you'll break a bone. Harvey will be there immediately, much too prepared.

Even though this is what he wanted from this plan, he still cries. He hates seeing you so beat-up, but he couldn't think of any other way to always be by your side. At least the tears blow away any suspicion of his part in this.

It could be a tiny fracture, but he'll still insist you'd need a cast, and that you'd need a wheelchair for the first few weeks. And, of course, Harvey's there to coddle you and help you around.

Maru says she can look after you while Harvey runs the clinic, but he gets uncharacteristically hostile at the mere suggestion of this. If Maru were to keep prying, if she were to find out that your injuries aren't as bad as he says they are, then Harvey might have to resort to more drastic measures.

Murder would be a very difficult thing for Harvey to do, but when he thinks about the life you two have right now- having you rely on him for everything, taking care of you everyday, spending every single moment with each other- his heart feels like it could fall out of his chest at the thought of anyone taking that away from you two.

His access to such a wide array of chemicals and medicines would be terrifying. If anyone threatens this peaceful, perfect life between you two, he could simply inject them with a certain concoction during their routine check-ups, say they needed it, that it was medicine, and it wouldn't even show in an autopsy.

Unfortunately, his tampering with human life extends to you.

Harvey, I think, would get much too enamored by this life you two have made since you've gotten injured.

Being able to dote on you with no restraint, being by your side for every single moment, it was all he could ever dream of.

But all good things come to an end, and your fractured bone would start to heal.

He never thought he'd be capable of lying, not sure if he'd ever done it before, but it's a newfound talent to him. Worries him how good he is at it.

He tells you you need to keep that cast on. That even if you're allowed to use crutches now instead of a wheelchair, that you still need his assistance. He insists that you need him.

Any sort of push-back from you would have his heart pounding. No, no, you can't get up and go back to work. You can't be doing chores on your own, he'll do that- You cannot leave.

Munchausen syndrome by proxy from an actual doctor would be a horrifying thing to go through. Not just any other doctor either, but Harvey, a man who seems so gentle and kind-hearted, a man who is supposed to be your partner.

Sad to say, but I don't think you'd have any way out of this. Your best course of action would be to just let him take care of you as much as he pleases. In due time, he would want to see you get better, so you'll be back to having your freedom in a few months, maybe...

Rewards...

It is pretty comedic saying this after that punishments portion, but Harvey, on more normal days, really is a passive man. He doesn't really have any strange obsessive habits, though he's probably a little weird about fluids...

By that, I mean he'd probably slip a little bit of his saliva or semen into his cooking. He gets a really euphoric rush when he sees you eating that tainted food he made for you. He enjoys that idea that a part of him is mingled in your body now. The other way around goes, too.

When you're sleeping, sometimes you drool, did you know that? You probably don't, because Harvey always wipes it off and licks it. It gives him shivers whenever he does, makes him way more excited than it should.

His libido is not the highest, but that's because I think he makes an active effort to suppress himself. Wants to be good for you. Harvey does have these dirty thoughts pretty often, but he usually just excuses himself to the bathroom for a second to relieve himself when it gets too unbearable. Even then, he dislikes this, since he feels like it'd be a waste of his release, since it's not inside you.

Every day would feel very domestic, he'd tease that you two already act like an old married couple, but he'd secretly hope you'd catch on to the idea he's putting down.

Harvey really does want to get married to you. He honestly, strangely, would act a lot more normally if you two were to be wed. It's like, there is something that exists that ties you two together, so even if you two aren't always by each other's side, he at least finds some comfort in knowing you two are bound forever.

Let's just, uh, hope you don't divorce him... Honestly, at this point, he may have already taken care of Mayor Lewis, so that option won't even be open to you anymore.

Harvey would probably try to pop the question during a little picnic he prepared for the two of you. The box for your engagement ring hidden in the picnic basket, amongst carefully wrapped sandwiches and lunchboxes.

You would pick it up while looking through the basket, wondering what it was. You open it, and Harvey feels like he could faint from how fast his heart is beating.

He stutters a lot, being unable to look you in the eye, then you rest a hand on his shoulder, and he feels alright again.

"I... I'd really like to get married with you, my love. Whaddya say?"

You smile at him, you say yes, and Harvey literally shouts in joy, before roughly taking you in his arms.

He quickly apologizes for being so erratic, but he swears he's never been happier. He just loves you so much.

Even though you two were only fiancés at this point, he'd call you his husband/wife/spouse from time to time, just a slip of the tongue, but he does get shy about it.

Your life together would be relatively the same now, just with some more added affection.

He'd get more comfortable around you, kissing you more often, getting more touchy, wearing less clothing around the house.

Of course, his main core value is still there; to care for you.

When thinking of Harvey's love language, you would, rationally, expect it to be acts of service. However, I posit this; his love language would be allowing himself to be taken care of.

He does get tired, and you do notice. You try to do his chores, try to take care of yourself so he'd have some time to relax, but he always gets fussy about it.

He insists that he can still do it, that he can still do things for you. Perhaps, he's scared that if he's unable to please you, that you'll go elsewhere, fall out of love with him.

You can sense that fear, and you tell him you'll still be here. You tell him to go lie down and rest, and you'll join him when you've finished cleaning up.

The wrinkles on his forehead soften up, so does his gaze, and he nods.

"I... Alright, sweetheart. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long, okay?"

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[mommywandas]

Go to Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: bad relationship with mother, mommy!wanda, implied drugging, lactation kink, pet names.

A/N: My first Wanda fic, pls be nice :,)

——

To say your relationship with your mother was rocky would have been an understatement. Most nights were full of screaming matches, mainly on her behalf but occasionally you lost your cool, unable to hold back.

"Just get out of my sight!" Your mother yelled, pointing to the front door of your shared home. You were old enough to get your own place, but you had been struggling to hold down jobs that earned proper money, consequently forcing you to stay living with your mom. Oh how you wished things were different.

"I'll sleep somewhere else tonight but I'm coming back tomorrow to take my things. I'm done here." Sadness and anger seeped through your words. This had happened enough times now, you having to sleep at a friend's house. But this was your last straw. You couldn't spend another night under this roof.

"Fine." Your mother looked away, seemingly unable to bear the sight of you. Taking a deep breath, you ran upstairs, grabbing the essentials, toiletries, a change of clothes and phone charger. Without saying another word to the other woman, you left the house, backpack slung over your shoulder. It was a cold night, causing you to shiver, wishing you'd brought a coat, but you weren't going back now. Your shaky hands reached for your phone, unlocking it and pulling up your friend's contact. At the same time, you saw it was almost one in the morning. Did you really want to disturb him? And besides, none of your friends were particularly close to you, not by your choice. It was like every friend you made, they just didn't like you enough. And you didn't know why.

As you scrolled through your contacts, desperately trying to find someone who would probably be awake, you caught sight of the woman who was very close with your mom.

Wanda Maximoff.

She had told you to call night or day, knowing the issues at home. And now seemed like the perfect time to utilize that offer. So you hesitantly pressed the call button. She picked up on the forth ring.

"(Y/N)?" A sleepy voice sounded through the phone, and you could picture her rubbing her eyes from tiredness.

"Hi.. uh.." Unexpectedly, tears started to form in your eyes, voice wavering. You heard a ruffle of sheets, she had sat up, her voice now turning into concern.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, then remembered she couldn't see you, so you mumbled, "Yeah.. uhm.. I just don't know where to go."

"Where are you? I'll come and pick you up." You could hear another ruffle, presumably Wanda getting ready to leave, but you quickly stopped her.

"No, no, I can walk to yours, I'm not far." You were already waking her up, intruding on her night, the least you could do was walk a couple of blocks. After her initial protests, she finally gave in. So you slipped your phone into the bag and started the journey. Walking alone at night always scared you, but it didn't take long before you were knocking on a door. The door swung open immediately, and you were met with a very worried Wanda.

"(Y/N), I've been so worried since you called." She wrapped her arms around you, and you could smell her floral scent. You'd always loved her. In fact, you'd spent most of your teenage years crushing on her secretly. Like any teenager, to be honest. You hugged her back, sniffling quietly.

"I—I'm sorry, I just didn't know where else to go, and everyone's asleep and you said to call whenever I wanted, and my mom hates me and—"

You were cut off by Wands pressing a finger to your lips. "Sweetheart, don't worry. Come in, you must be freezing." Her soft tone melted you to the core, and you couldn't help but follow her inside, shivering at the warmth. You weren't quite aware of what she was doing, because you were lost in your self destructive thoughts, but a few minutes later she was standing in front of you with a hot mug of cocoa. More tears prickled in your eyes, because not even your mother had shown you this type of kindness. You held the mug in your hands, warming up. Her thumb reached out and wiped your stray tears.

"It must have been a big fight, huh?"

You nodded, looking down at the smooth chocolate. "Yeah.. she told me to 'get out of her sight'. But I don't know—" You trailed off, a strain in your voice. "I don't know where I'm going to go. I have nowhere. None of my friends like me enough to let me sleep on their couch until I get my bearings."

She sighed softly, her empathy radiating off her. "You can stay with me, honey, as long as you like." Her voice was gentle, exactly what you needed, a stark contrast to the voice that had just been shouting at you.

"You mean that?" Your eyes lit up, feeling warm inside.

She chuckled, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "Of course, sweetheart. I have a spare room already set up."

The relief spread through your body— you had a place to stay! Someone who actually wanted you!

"Thank you so much, thank you." Your thanks came gushing out, before she guided your hand on the mug up to your lips.

"Drink, darling."

You sipped, and the chocolate was sweet, slightly too sweet? You didn't give that any mind though, just drinking the warm liquid. "Mhm, this is good."

"Anything for you, sweet girl."

You suddenly felt very sleepy, eyes beginning to close. You hadn't been this tired before, right? "Sleepy.." You mumbled, body feeling heavy.

"That's okay, baby, let's get you to bed."

She took the mostly finished mug out of your hands, washing it up in an instant before slipping an arm around your waist and guiding you up the stairs. If you had been more aware, you would have noticed more of your surroundings. The pretty decor, the cosy feel of the house, but you weren't in any state to admire any of that.

"Poor thing.." She murmured, and led you into a bedroom. You collapsed on the bed, yawning softly as you curled up. You could smell the sheets, just the same as Wanda's scent. You smiled to yourself before realising you must be in her bed. You woke up a little more.

"I thought I was going in your spare room?"

She smiled knowingly, laying down beside you, pyjamas already on from before. "It's okay, baby, mommy wants you here." She whispered, pulling the sheets over your clothed body. "Don't worry about anything."

You tried to think straight, to wonder why she had called herself 'mommy', though you found that you didn't care at all. Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and you licked your lips, seeking out something you didn't know you wanted.

"Do you want to nurse on me, baby?" Wanda's voice was floating around you, through the clouds of sleepiness. You didn't want to ask what that meant because before you knew it, she was guiding your head towards her chest, where she had pulled down her night shirt to reveal her breast.

"Suckle, sweetheart, I know you want it."

You nodded mindlessly, your lips latching onto her nipple, sucking gently and humming when you felt the sweet taste of milk. Could life get any more perfect than this, you wondered.

"That's it honey, go to sleep. Mommy will be right with you."

——

[superblysubpar]

steve harrington x you

2,676 words

warnings: SMUT (oral, reader recieving / public - not caught / a praise kink) | NSFW 18+

A/N: Okay, so this whole relationship has lived in my mind for a long time. So like, I don't know. I guess this is a part of another story I'd love to write, but I don't know if I ever will. But they're sort of rivals at work, sort of friends with benefits, sort of enemies, sort of lovers. They're a mess. But I really love them, and I hope you do too. | so sorry, I know I'm late with all of these, thanks for your patience! There is voting for tomorrow at the bottom of this one, it'll be combined with the other's posted today.

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow's fic at the bottom of this blurb

“Lost?” Your pen clicks beneath your thumb as you keep your eyes on your notebook.

The scent of cinnamon lingers just to your left, the notes of coffee and caramel with it have you deciding it’s not his gum this time as he slides into the vacant chair next to you.

“What makes you say that?” His voice is low, though the level you’re on is a speaking floor, he knows you’ve got that furrowed brow and jaw set like you’re deep in something you can’t quite crack, focused.

A hum rumbles in your chest as you shift papers in front of you and tilt your head, like looking at the page from a new angle will literally help you find yours.

“Steve Harrington? In a library?” Your gaze flits over to him and his chest inflates from the eye contact, even if it is a little colder than it’s been lately.

“Ouch,” he pouts his lips, hand over his cream colored sweater above his heart. Green and gold disappearing as his eyes slit. “I come to the library all the time, actually.”

“Yeah?” Your body turns to face his more straight on, torso curled as you rest your elbow on the back of your chair. “For what?”

Steve’s arms shift on the back of the chair he was straddling, a pink tongue licks out over his bottom lip that twists in one corner. He shrugs his shoulders as he stares at your mouth.

“Research.”

A snort bubbles out of you as you shake your head and turn back to your papers, ignoring the way your stomach flutters at the word knowing full and well Steve doesn’t mean the kind of research you were currently doing.

Steve watches you shift on the wood chair in front of him, eager eyes following the way your fingers flex, the way you roll your neck. His swallow thick when you pull the sleeve of your sweatshirt down over your knuckles and spin the silver spoon ring on your index finger.

He clears his throat and gently sets the peace offering next to your stack of books.

“I’m not here for research-“

“I’m truly shocked,” interrupting him in a deadpanned sigh.

“I’m here,” he adds stronger, leaning towards you so he can softly finish, “To say sorry.”

The scoff you want to give his half-assed apology gets caught in your throat when his hand reaches forward. It’s swallowed down when his fingers tilt up your chin so you’ll look at him when he says, “That was really shitty of me last night. And I’m sorry.”

Steve stares at you earnestly, pink lips unsmirking, unsmiling, solemn and perfectly framed by the length and amount of dark stubble that drives you crazy.

In a good way.

The gold class ring on his middle finger glints in the lamp light of the desk as he drops his hand from your jaw.

“You…you don’t have anything to apologize for,” your shoulders shrug and you look anywhere but his eyes, settling on the freckle just to the left of his lips. “We said this was casual, right?”

Steve nods slowly, he clears his throat. “Right.”

“Besides,” you laugh quietly, you bite down on your cheek when your heartbeat feels like it’s trying to climb up your throat. “I hate you.”

Your gaze cuts to him to find he’s still staring at you, stealing your breath from your lungs and making you fall even further, sure to have injuries when you finally hit the bottom of whatever this is.

“Right. And I…” he trails off and shakes his head. Lips forming a soft smile as he stands up and pushes the chair in. “Enjoy the coffee.”

When you’re sure he’s out of sight, your head falls forward, a loud thunk accompanied by your sigh as you make contact with the wood.

Each breath in is a forced thing, like you’re reminding yourself how to breathe. Each exhale then a relief to something tight in your chest from the weight all of this is resting on you.

Eventually, you sit up, and grab at the coffee, spinning it in search of it’s lids mouth, but instead finding black sharpie scrawled on the side of the cup.

Steve’s handwriting so familiar to you now, it makes that tight feeling in your chest constrict.

Let me make it up to you?

Accompanied by a series of numbers your feet and heart know the way to before your brain can provide a logical list of reasons to not go to it.

Deeper and deeper into the library, up several flights and past crowds, then single studiers, than no one for a long time. The spines collect dust, lights aren’t quite as bright, and the carpet here is plusher than the more frequented stacks, muffling your steps as you grow closer.

Steve sits on the ground, wedged between a ledge of small windowsill and a row of books. His knee is bent, supporting a softbound leather journal against light blue Levi’s. One leg is kicked out, Nike adorned foot restless as his pen flows over a page, then another, furiously, and in a way you know yourself quite well. It means he got an idea for a story, means he can’t stop until he gets all the jumbled words out of his brain and onto the page. So you wait, until the pen slows and he blows out a breath while his eyes scan over what he wrote.

Your head knocks against the shelf, watching him silently and in awe. You’re not sure when habits of his like holding the pen between his lips as his fingers drummed on the page he was rereading or his knee turned from something that annoyed you to something that made the butterflies in your stomach really happy.

But it happened, and they are. Their wings flap around crazily when sunlight drifts in and hits the top of his hair his large hand is ruffling, catching blondes and caramels in the darker waves. They take flight when he pulls the pen from his mouth so it can smile at the page, proud of whatever he’s come up with.

They threaten to escape up through your chest and bust out with your heart when he looks up at you finally.

“Hey, Friday,” he says softly, fondly, a little surprised you came. He stands up and fiddles with the ties of his journal.

The butterflies are now in your throat, threatening to push out all the things you’ve been holding back.

For two people who love words and sure know how to use them, Steve and you seem to be able to say an awful lot without them.

He knows what you’re saying, as you take timid steps down the row to him, that you’re here for his apology though you don’t think he needs to give you one, as you already said, but it’s appreciated. He knows he does when he watches your gaze fall to the floor when his fingers circle around your wrist.

The tender brush of his thumb along your racing pulse, the gentle kiss that lingers in the same spot, and the way he pulls that same hand to rest on his chest, right above his own thumping heart tells you he’s just afraid of all of this as you are.

Steve’s head tilts the same time as yours, an unspoken agreement that, for now, you’re gonna let it go, because this is working, whatever it is. And maybe that’s scary, but neither of you have let your fears stop you before.

His lips hover over yours, bottom lip just barely between his as he murmurs, “I get to make it up to you now, yeah?”

Your head nods, tip of your nose knocking his as he exhales against your jaw. His hands find your waist, they guide you to rest on the ledge of the frosted window, so light can be let in but distraction can be locked out. Steve’s lips skate over and up your jaw, his mouth pressed to your ear. He breathes out, his smile a ghost against the shell of it when you shiver underneath his body leaning over yours. His lips move against your skin, words a whisper that goes straight down your spine and between your legs.

“I know this might be hard for you honey, but no noises. Got it?”

When you don’t respond, he pulls away, hands placed on either side of your hips on the ledge so he can be nose to nose with you again. His eyebrows raise expectantly, his nose taps yours.

“Say you understand.” Though his command is quiet, it’s strong, and unable to be argued with.

“I understand,” you swallow down the butterflies that are still incredibly worked up.

Traitors.

It’s not like you to like to be told what to do, but there’s something that falls away when you’re with Steve like this, like you’re the art that’s merely a hobby for you and he’s the artist. You’re looser, pliant, at the mercy of his hands to do what they want, trusting his vision more than your own.

Steve finally kisses you, though it’s over too quick as he pants out a quiet groan of, “Good girl.”

Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth at the praise, the butterflies take it and swoon inside of you.

He drops to his knees, slowly, his gaze never wavering on yours, amber and emerald hit by a band of sunlight just for you.

Steve pushes at your knees gently, his eyes do leave yours then, to follow his finger on its path from your knee, taking the hem of your little thrifted slip dress up with it. The skin beneath your black tights buzzes, making you wonder if a body could catch on fire from just a little bit of friction. If two people who make enough heat between each other…could they both burst into flames, be scorned by the thing they know is bad for them but can’t, won’t, stop.

His other hand joins the tantalizingly slow drag of your dress up, it pushes at your thigh until the maroon colored fabric littered with tiny florals is bunched at your hips indecently.

He leans down, his fingers curled into the dress and bruising at your waist underneath as his lips follow the same trail, up from your knee, stopping to place hot and opened mouthed kisses against your thigh that have your eyelashes fluttering.

Your hand curls around the ledge you’re resting on when Steve’s fingers drag down, following the crease of where thigh meets hip. His thumb’s massage lower and lower until his mouth is open over your center. He breathes out a low groan when his tongue flattens against the damp nylon.

Then his fingers tug, and a loud rip makes you jolt.

“Ste-“ Your hand smacks over your own mouth at the loud call of his name.

Steve’s smile presses to your cunt, as your pulse races. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as your eyes widen, waiting for someone to come around the corner and find you.

Especially when his tongue flattens again, this time in contact with your skin and your eyes practically roll back in your head. His stubble scratches at your skin in that way that drives you the good kind of crazy. Steve licks you once, long and lingering, dragging his tongue through your folds only to dive back down and do it again, and again, and again, and-

His thumb’s continue to massage next to his mouth, they hold you open for him and pull your skin taut so he can trace each curve, make sure no spot is left unkissed by his lips. He goes slow, ‘cause he knows working you up like this is gonna make you yell out his name no matter how hard you bite down on your tongue when you come.

He knows the slow way his tongue traces you like you’re a map he’s memorizing is making your stomach somersault and your chest heave. He doesn’t have to look up, but he does. He finds your head thrown back, your hand pressed to the wall next to you and your mouth parted in a gasp when he pulls one of your lips between his and sucks.

Your chin drops to your chest, a hand acts of it’s own accord when Steve’s gaze meets yours. His smile breaks his rhythm, but not for long when he nods and your fingers card through the top of his hair.

Steve’s hum rumbles against your core, the sound of his tongue against you pornographic, especially with how heavy your breaths leave your parted mouth as he goes back to the flat, broad strokes over and over again and that’s when you realize:

He hasn’t even touched your clit yet.

The thought makes the heat bubbling in your stomach, boil, a new wave of arousal gushes over his tongue and his licks pick up their pace, loving the way your thighs clench around his ears.

Your mouth gasps his name and you bite down on your bottom lip harder, and your hand pushes at the back of his head, fingers curling in the caramel locks as your other does around the lip of the ledge you rest on. Inside your converse, your toes curl as your hips roll against his face.

Steve strains in his jeans when you start riding his face, hips canting up in search of what he knows you’re ready for now. His nose hits it first and his dick twitches when a quiet ‘Yes’ falls from above him.

His lips follow, they press a kiss to your clit, his tongue traces it, and he sucks.

Your legs shake against his shoulders, and you’re seeing stars behind your now closed eyelids when his tongue starts prodding at your entrance, licks through everything you’re giving him and finishes it with circles of his nose to your vibrating nerves resting above it all. He does it over and over again and you could sob, you could beg, you could care fucking less if someone walked by right now.

The butterflies wreck havoc on your insides, pushing things out of place and making a mess so you don’t even know how to clean it all up. Unsure of how you normally breathe, how do your limbs properly function? How does your body do anything other than this with him every second of every day?

Steve knows you’re about to come when your hips shift, like they’re trying to pull away from him, so his hands are quicker, and they catch you and hold you still.

Yours grab at his shoulders as your body curls over him, the warmth in your stomach that had boiled over now floods your entire body, it flows over his tongue. He keeps going while you ride it out, rolling your hips and gasping his name a little too loud.

Steve doesn’t stop till you’re knees are pushing at his shoulders and your hand is back in his hair, lazily pushing it off of his forehead.

The sounds around him finally return, how hard he’s breathing, how hard you’re breathing. The low buzz and hiss of a furnace. A distant cough.

He pulls your dress down again and stands, knees aching a little, but he could care less.

Not when you smile at him all sleepy and satisfied and smitten with him, though neither of you will admit it.

His skin shines with sweat and you and he shakes his head like you’re ridiculous, like he doesn’t know what he’ll do with you, before his lips brush over yours far too soft and conveying quite the opposite of what you both know the other is about to say.

‘Cause for two people who really love words and sure know how to use them, neither of you have ever been great liars.

“I hate you,” you murmur as he leans in.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

I decided that for this one, I'll share a little snippet from some wips that may or may not have already been hinted at in this event. Have fuuunnn

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/10

[almostfoxglove]

have Javier and reader ever talked about his relations when he was in Columbia? them being best friends and all. did she laugh it off? did she understand? I'm curious ☺️

HI SWEETHEART this made my day when I got it. I'm so sorry it took a while to answer but I hope you don't mind that I got a little carried away with this one... everything's weird and bad right now so I'm gonna post this and try to get some sleep - I hope you're taking care of yourself <3 thank you soso much for sending this ask, seriously it means the world. ily!! here's some tenderness for you.

javier confesses about colombia

an I'LL CARRY YOU drabble

Explicit (18+) | Javier Peña x f!reader | drabble 1.1k words CW: Allusion to canon-typical violence & trauma and two idiots being sickeningly in love.

You never push back on anything but his blame. 

headcanons and full drabble below the cut!

in ICY, javi leaves to colombia (the first time) at twenty-eight (seen in part II). between that moment and when he returns aged thirty-six (seen in part I), they have no contact because her phone number changes, so when he calls her right after leaving (seen in dark heart), he thinks she's icing him out for good. *sobs gently*

we know he disappears again at the end of part I and doesn't return until he comes home for good at the end of part II. between those two meetings, they also have no contact - so his girl doesn't hear a thing about colombia (and by extension, all his sexual escapades), though she follows the news.

in the year after his return (all of part III) I don't think much of what happened down there comes up. javi's traumatized, still acclimating to civilian life while his girl's engaged *sobs harder*, and I imagine he's scared to admit his role in all the death and violence. if / when she asks, I think he keeps it pretty vague and chooses not to talk about the women he was involved with (they aren't together yet, after all)

POST-FINALE HOWEVER, javi tells her pretty much everything in little chunks at a time, including about all the women he slept with and what he knows of what became of them (I imagine the helena story is an especially tearful / difficult retelling, but it's important to him that she knows the truth). he's pretty terrified it'll scare her off, but I think we know her better than that.

here's a peek at what I imagine part of that conversation looked like <3

It’s the middle of the night and he’s not yet buying it, still has that little wrinkle above his nose that folds when he scowls cutting deep into his brow. Propped against the wall in his little twin bed, when you insist Javier’s dark eyes dodge yours and fall to the hands that knot themselves in his lap, anxious. But anxious is fine—just means he’s talking. Cutting off slabs of those missing years like meat from a bone for you to carry.

You’re grateful to be given anything at all. You know how deep trust like this really goes, unseen but branching. Mycelium underground. 

You never push back on anything but his blame. 

“Baby,” you say softly, and his jaw ticks as the word melts him a touch. 

His chin might flicker briefly like his body longs to cry, but if it does he wrestles it back before meeting you with dark, helpless eyes. “You don’t know,” he says, no cruelty in it. His voice not much more solid than a whisper and slaughtered red by guilt.

“Know you though,” you say.

The sigh that cuts out of him could shatter you. Javier turns to stretch out length-wise on the bed, his socked feet hanging off the end. You moved in weeks ago but haven’t gotten around to upgrading to a bigger mattress and part of you believes—though you’d never say it—that he’s waiting to get through all this first. Like the hurt of him needs to be here to do it: in the bed where you both once were small, held. So you allow it, take turns groaning in the daylight hours about your backs and hips and necks, and at night you hold each other ‘cause you have to, to fit in this little thing. Not that you wouldn’t, anyway. Not that either of you know how to sleep without the weight of the other’s body anymore. 

You always did sleep best beside him.

When he’s settled, you slip down to lie against him, propped up on one elbow with your torso folded over his and one arm draped across his hips. Javier sighs, pleased by the weight of you, and closes his eyes. 

“Was different there,” he says, after a long moment. “M’different now.” 

Outside the crickets are rioting again, ribbiting their threaded symphony. You push the hair back from his face—more pewter than ever but so familiar in its waves and curls—and watch the twitching of his face, all the microscopic ways he wrestles with some unnamed memory. 

You give him his time. All this patient, open air until he swallows and starts to say, “Didn’t do right—” 

It isn’t that his voice cracks, just that it stops all at once like someone’s lifted the needle off a record. Though you don’t know precisely what he’s trying to say, you sense its jagged outline. Can feel the memory slicing him anytime he speaks. Below you, Javier clears his throat. “Didn’t do right by them.”

Deep breath, then you push.

“Did you hurt them,” you ask, your voice quiet but solid, firm.

Though his brows fold low, his eyes stay closed. Swallows again. “No,” he says.

“Did you touch them without their consent,” you go on. “Do anything they didn’t want.”

“No,” Javier replies.

“Were you cruel?”

He shifts, uneasy. Mutters back a weak and whispered, “No.” Sometimes he has trouble with this one and stumbles over the answer, but tonight he’s got it right.

You know all this, of course. You’re not asking for you because you already know the answers—know him, whether he wants to admit it right now or not. Doesn’t matter that he’s different now; so are you. So is everybody. Tragedy doesn’t let a goddamn thing stay the same. And while you’ve always known you’ll never see nor fathom the whole, vicious picture—what living down there through years of violence laid ghost and seed beneath his skin—there’s not a bone in your body that believes him malicious. 

At first he worried, but you don’t care about the bodies he lost himself in. All the women he held and had. Sort of surprised you too, but you didn’t learn of them until after you’d found each other again, for good this time, and so what was there to be afraid of? That there’d been, in the worst of his agony, warm hands and welcome bodies? 

No, you don’t care. Doesn’t matter the number. 

You’re glad that at least for small, clustered minutes, he wasn’t always alone.

“Did you try?” you ask. This is the big one, the one you know hurts most for him to hear. “To help them.”

In the turquoise cover of early night, Javier’s face crumples in. Forehead canyoned by lines, his eyes swallowed by miserable, crinkled Vs. You see no glossy tears slip loose but they must be in there, hidden under his lashes when for so long he holds his breath like he can’t trust his own lungs or own mind. While you wait, you lay one palm in the center of his chest and the shimmer of moonlight winks off your hand, reflected in the flat face of a garnet, making silver of red and pearl. It feels, for the moment it’s bright, a little like having his mother back. Like you can feel her in the room, holding him with you.

Javier’s heart hammers beneath your touch, then his hand bolts up to cover yours as if to keep you there. As if you’d ever pull away. “I—”

You press down gently, give him your warmth, your weight, and his hand tightens in kind.

“I wanted to,” he croaks.

“Did you try?”

And it breaks him, chokes him. One wet sound punches out of his chest but he’s tough, soft bits and all. Something in him’s always just known how to hold on. How to take it, for better or worse. But it’s for the better here, you’re certain. Because he won’t survive believing himself evil—you see that clearly, illuminated like a streetlamp casting gold over a night-dark road. If he doesn’t see that he tried, doesn’t let himself feel it, one of these days the guilt will kill him.

It’s just the one ragged breath, then he pebbles apart perfectly still. Steady, you leaden your weight on his sternum, press down a little harder, and Javier grips your hand with greater need. All his warring goes on quietly, invisible in all but his head.

“M’right here,” you tell him gently.

He nods, his eyes still shut. His breaths slow and agonizing.

“Right here,” you say.

Together you wait for the spell to pass, for the storm to clear, until finally the clouds part over him and he sucks one longer, deeper breath, dragging all the room’s air into his lungs. There it is, there he is, solidifying under your palm. Seaming back together, stained glass made new. 

“I tried,” Javier breathes.

His face unfurls and the deep lines once carved with a knife fall smooth. The wrinkles stay of course, all the evidence of his life, but they’re softer now. You trace the crows feet at the corner of his eyes with your thumb and find his skin hot and damp. 

“I know you did, baby,” you whisper to him. “You tried.”

Suddenly his arms fly up and crush you to his chest—so startled, you yelp and can’t help but chuckle as his grip tightens and tightens. You let him squeeze you, your arms trapped under his, and hum softly when you feel his nose against your hair. Carefully he inhales, then slow he exhales: something he’s picked up in his sessions, attended twice a month. Which is how you know that although he’s fallen silent, he’s busy in his mind reminding himself of frivolities. All the tiny bits he must have missed in those long, distant years he spent away from you, believing you hated him. 

You imagine cut grass and July sunshine, beer bottles ice cold on the porch with his pop,

and rolling cigarettes in the bed of the pickup at sixteen, laughing at the sour clouds choking out of you when you couldn’t hold your smoke,

and birthday parties,

and your hand, at every age, in his.

He knows better now, that you never hated him and never could. Knows too that you’ve loved him all the years he’s loved you and will all the years you have left.

Eventually you feel the air shift as he comes home into his body. With his chest smushed tight against the shell of your ear, you’re half asleep, adrift in the deep throb of his pulse. You feel his mustache, the graze of his lips, and the quiet murmur of his voice calling you another name. New, these last weeks. It still surprises you, the sweetness of mi amor on his tongue, in his mouth.

“Get some sleep,” Javier murmurs as his arms go slack around you without pulling away.

“Only if you do,” you mumble in reply, eyes feathering open just long enough to catch the last of the sky’s deep blue. Then they’re closed again. Everything is warm and black.

“M’right behind you,” he says, and soon you’re both asleep.

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3 tag list below!

@pedritosgfreal @thundermartini @guiltyasdave @jolapeno @reluctanthalfwayoptimism 

@myownwholewildworld @sunnytuliptime @indiegirlunited @anoverwhelmingdin @pedrospatch

@bergamote08 @harriedandharassed @casssiopeia @sweetpascal @half-moon16 

@noisynightmarepoetry @theoraekenslover @luxurychristmaspudding @kyberblade @toomanytookas 

@itsokbbygrl @wannab-urs @milla-frenchy @yopossum @beezusvreeland

@katw474 @bluesweaters15 @jessthebaker @encasedinobsidian @ppascalrain

@yxtkiwiyxt @schnarfer @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @iknowisoundcrazy

@whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @missladym1981 @ro-nahime-things @helenanell

[beepboopkek]

— Practice makes perfect (F!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, cl1t slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.2k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 &lt;3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock snugly kept to the hilt within the confines of your pussy.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your clit were now simply resting atop it.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—” 

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right on your clit.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

The doctor's hand came back to rest on your clit, tapping it gently to soothe the pain from the slap. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing his cock at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were dripping onto the chair on which the two of you were seated. The hard planes of his torso snug against your back.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into all your sensitive spots.

He placed another slap on your clit, your body jerking in response as your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?” 

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap to your already tender clit.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my girl, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he drew circles on your frayed clit before giving it a gentle pinch and then taking away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.” 

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small pinch to your clit.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question. 

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to massage your clit again, his lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.” 

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him. 

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

He gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own. Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally— “Tell me the answer to number sixteen.” Shallow thrusts that were just shy of where you were most sensitive. Asshole.You took deep breaths. “I don’t— fuck- know the question—” The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically. You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass. It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip. “Answer me.”… Maybe accepting his offer wasn’t a good idea.

[urprettylittlething]

What happens when Cursed Kitty starts bugging Gojo and Gets to let her leave outside? Do they punish her or do they just give in?

-🥟

Thank you so much for this request, I'm sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to it but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :’) I tried my best with writing this <33

The Lesson For Never Leaving

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Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - I am so so happy to be back, I really hope you all enjoy the content that's to come, and a massive thank you to everyone that's sent in an ask, you've all been so patient with me I love you all so much <333 The poll has voted that these be posted daily so that is what I will be doing :3 Feel free to leave comments either on the post or my inbox, it's really motivating to hear people loving my work <333 I love you all thank you so much <3 and please let me know if I've missed any warnings or spellings, etc. :)

summary - Frustrated and brushed aside, all Kitty wanted to do was go outside.

warnings - Yandere-ness from both of our boys, Spanking, Kitty gets held down, Crying, Kind of harsh, Kitty doesn't really understand what's going on :(, Kinda bratty but she's frustrated and doesn't know how to convey that well, punishment

genre - Oneshot

word count - 1.4k

~spelling and grammar checked~

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The very first time Kitty asks, the both of them would try and distract her instead. Never really answering her question and trying to occupy her with other things in the hopes that she’ll forget about it. 

The next few times when she asks, she bugs them with whiney tugs on their shirts with mumbles of “Outside?”, all wide eyed and pouty lips. They just end up sighing and telling her something along the lines of, “No, you can’t go outside baby. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?” 

And that works for a little while, but the next time she asks and they tell her no, she gets even more pouty, her brows furrowing before she tries asking again. So in return they get just a little bit firmer with their ‘no’s’ and she droops away while sulking.

So when the next time she asks, doing it with a very firm “Outside!” followed along by a stamp with her little foot, they don’t just tell her ‘no’ anymore. Her harshly furrowed brows and downturned lips gently ease themselves from the angered look and instead start to merge into one of vague terror. Suguru and Satoru have taken it upon themselves to start telling her the ‘tales of horror’ they’ve encountered and witnessed from being outside for too long. 

Making sure to add what would happen to a ‘pretty little innocent kitty’ like herself, getting snatched up and stolen away forever.

All of those stories are enough to scare her away for a good few weeks after the two of them got detailed enough to get her lips wobbling and eyes all blurry with tears while her ears drooped and her tail curled in on itself. They told her it was a bad idea, what they’ve been saying all along and how they wished they didn’t need to tell her this much to get her to listen. Doing it all with exaggerated voices so she’d feel guilty enough that she didn’t listen to them in the first place. Opening up their arms to her while she dived into them, mumbling small ‘sorry’s and ‘I stay’s.

So the next time she asks, they decide that it’s time they should lay it on a little heavier if they really want to get the message through to her about never leaving. It also didn’t help that her attitude for asking has gotten more demanding than anything else.

She’s stubborn when they tell her ‘no’ this time. Stamping her foot repeatedly while nearly shouting “Outside!!”. They try doing their little manipulating tactic again, trying the story about the big bad dangers of going outside but she’s hearing none of it. Cutting off their gentle, if not a little strained, voices with a stern “No!” and just repeating what she had previously been saying.

So the two men share a look. Silent conversation being exchanged between just the two of them while Kitty looks on in confusion and frustration. One of them raises his eyebrow and the other shakes his head, looking a little dejected all the while. 

Of course seeing this from the side-lines and not following along with their little private chat at all, Kitty is taking this as another no. 

Her body is shaking and her tail is puffing up in distress because they’re not listening to her and now they’re ignoring her! 

Her eyes welled up with frustrated tears and a few dribbled down her cheeks, her fists clenched at her sides as she all but yelled, “Hate you!”. The two opposite her froze in shock while she continued her spiel. “Hate! Want outside! I hate!” 

They’re stunned into silence, frozen in disbelief and almost outraged because how dare she. All they are doing is trying to keep her safe, they take care of her, feed her, bathe her, love her. And she hates them? 

Their eyes become almost lax, losing the little spark of light that one would normally see. Overcast and dark is how they’re portrayed. Knuckles white and strained from where they’re clutching at different parts of the kitchen counter, where they’d all been during this entire exchange. 

Kitty begins losing her flare little by little until it's practically erased like it had never existed in the first place. Except it had, because the two in front of her are the direct result of her harsh words. And they’re scaring her. Brooding and menacing and she’s shaking where she stands. Tail drooping and curling around her lower leg, ears flattened and eyes big and rounded. Tears no longer falling but instead are caught up in her lashes.

It’s only when one murmurs something along the lines of a punishment, the other agreeing, does she try to turn tail and run. But Satoru had already caught her before she even really began running. He half drags, half carries her down the hall and to their main bedroom. Setting her down face first into the fluffed up sheets, sitting down next to her while keeping her arms restrained snug behind her back. 

Her tail had curled around her waist during the travel and her ears remained flat against her head, small whimpers and the occasional ruffle of fabric as she shifted around were all to be heard in the room. Satoru remains silent by her side, Suguru’s socked feet thudding delicately along the floor as one of her ears twitches slightly in reaction. 

A small whimper is all that's heard when Suguru comes to a stop behind her, flipping up the long baggy shirt Satoru had put on her this morning, revealing her pastel pink lace panties. One of the things they had decided when dressing her for the first time was forgoing any bottoms, they would just be an inconvenience anyway.

It’s when both of them start to speak, one after the other, words of how “This is your punishment.”, “You’re going to learn how to speak nicely.”, “You’ve been a bad kitty.” that makes her bottom lip tremble. Tears welling up in her pretty glazed eyes.

It’s the first hard smack against her pink panty clad cheek that causes her to wail. Big salty tears finally spilled over her waterline and down her cheeks. She starts to squirm when they don’t stop. Harsher and harsher they get. She knows it’s Suguru doing it because Satoru is the one that’s holding her down.

In all honesty she’s struggling to make out what is truly happening. The pain is spreading over each cheek the more Suguru spanks her as she wails and cries. 

A few harsh spanks later and the worst one comes next, a loud cracking smack right over a tender spot on her ass cheek and she shrieks. Openly sobbing and blubbering. She’s wounded and confused, scared and wanting comfort.

This is where Satoru speaks up, curled around her upper half to stop her from escaping her torment. 

He’s saying something along the lines of ‘only trying to help her understand, “we just don’t want to see you get hurt”, “how many curse users and sorcerers would slaughter her without a second thought”. 

All of this combined just makes her sob even harder. Each stuttering inhale and choked out wail, drowning in the mess her face is in of snot and drool and tears. Every smack hurts and every word is less and less comforting. She doesn’t like this. She hates this.

Sobbing and trembling, ears flattened atop her head in her distress while her tail is curled so tight around her waist the muscles strain. 

Suguru delivers the last few slaps against her bruised and blushing red ass before he stops. The only thing heard in the room is the heavy breathing behind Kitty, her crying and Gojo's words of ‘comfort’. 

Eventually after a few minutes to gather their composure they roll Kitty over. Yes, it does hurt them a little to see her cower away from both of them, trying to curl into herself and hide while she sobs from everything inflicted on her these past minutes. 

It’s Suguru that picks her up gently, Satoru leaving to start a hot bath in the other room while Suguru stays on the bed with Kitty. Nestling her into his chest, too exhausted to resist, she buries herself into the side of his neck. Making sure to keep her rear end from touching anything, he stays with her. Kneading her curled in ears gently and making small shushing noises.

Rocking her gently side to side as one hand trails delicate patterns up and down her back. He waits for Gojo to finish the bath, so they can both give Kitty the comfort she deserves. All while reminding her this is what happens when she fights back. And how a lot worse would befall her should she ever dare leave. 

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[k6tzie]

task force 141 'sharing' nsfw headcanons

be advised, the following content explores consensual sex involving multiple people during intimate encounters. reader discretion is advised

soap: he's a man of adventure and will try everything once, even if he thinks he might not like it. if he were to have a threesome, he'd share ghost or another close friend he can trust with you, not the other way around. it's almost like a dream, both guys splayed out on soaps bed, legs spread as they take turns fucking your mouth.

gaz: in all honesty, i don't see kyle being the type to have sex with another person or people involved (sorry to disappoint). maybe some light-hearted kissing or messing around but he wouldn't be interested in 'sharing' you with someone. if you really wanted it, he might do so just to please you but it'd be cut short and lots of cuddling after...y'know, to assure you still love him.

price: thankfully, john isn't the overly jealous type. he fully trusts you and your intentions especially when it comes to sex. so when you proposed the idea of having another person, he was okay with it as long as there were some ground rules. he cared about everyone's needs being fulfilled. but of course, when the other person leaves, he'll fuck one last orgasm out of you until your legs give out. and i can't forget, aftercare king!

ghost: he wouldn't be too eager to have another person involved but would only make an exception if he knew and trusted them. he more so enjoys the thought of other people drooling over you whilst he's the only one who can fuck you dumb. so if you wanted someone involved, it'd most likely be someone else from the tf141, probably johnny, "keep that pretty mouth busy, johnny. someone's making too much noise." whilst he fucks you with purposely slow, deep strokes.

this is my first post so i hope you enjoyed it, feel free to let me know if you'd like this with any other characters. i'd be happy to write it. thanks!

[moongreenlight]

GIRLIE PLS I NEED MORE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE x PRICE 😭😭

Instead of starting every ask response with “sorry it took me so long to get to this I suck” I’m just going to issue a blanket statement that I have like 45+ asks in my inbox rn and I get so overwhelmed looking at them that I just ignore them until I need to write something. I love you all for messaging me I love hearing your ideas and compliments please don’t stop sending them just bear with me as I sift through them. <3

Also- I got legit death threats on my first post like this. I’d like to make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that this is a LEGAL AGE GAP. It’s not grooming, it’s not predatory, it’s ENTIRELY LEGAL. You’re early twenties. He’s mid-to-late-thirties. Please do not bite my head off.

Anyway I’m back on my Price and his young housewife bullshit below the cut. Xoxoxo

Here’s the OG post if you need a refresher

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

There’s this scene in the MW3 campaign where Price and Farah are talking about where she got the missiles from and he’s trying to shoulder up with her, but she just shuts him down in the end. (Like always I hope you’ll trust me. Implicitly) (John Price the man that you are!!!!!!) and I really think that’s the household dynamic. He’s always the biggest in the room, but he’s got this incredible reverence and respect for women who can out-bitch him. Bends his rigid spine BACKWARDS for you. Would move mountains if you’d only ask.

Doesn’t always have to be serious things. Like maybe you’ve made friends with some moms in the neighborhood (it’s a point of pride for him that they’re all minimum 5 years older than you.) and they all go to this obscenely expensive Pilates class at six in the morning. You mention in passing that you’re signing up and the suburban white dad in him makes his ears perk.

“‘N how much ‘s this class going to cost me?”

“Dunno. Think it just goes on the account.”

“Course. Gym membership doesn’t cost enough as it is.”

And then all it takes is him seeing you in a matching workout set for all of his protest to die down. For SURE makes a comment about how he ‘didn’t know it’d be this worthwhile’

Loosely following that point, I think any real arguments get hostile very quickly. He’s not so egotistical that he won’t apologize, but I’m certain that it’s like pulling teeth to get him to that point. He can hold a grudge unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Borders heavily on immature when the two of you are in the thick of things. Starts shit just to start shit. (Secretly because he just loves makeup sex. Would rather eat you out until you’re sobbing than actually say the words “I’m sorry.”)

Having thoughts about him bringing you to some military ball. The both of you dressing up and sliding into the car that was sent for you just to sit on opposite ends of the backseat and not speak a single word. He burns through a cigar in record time and you toss back a few glasses of champagne. You both put on appearances getting out of the car. Hook your hand around his bicep while he shoves you inside with his hand on the small of your back. Hissing nasty quips back and forth about making this quick. Few hellos. Show your faces and then you can get home and get away from each other. Putting on appearances only goes so far, though, because when John is pissed- everyone feels it. Sucks the life out of a room and replaces it with an eerie feeling like a bomb’s about to go off.

He leaves you alone with a few other wives. Pulled away by Laswell with a promise of a ‘quick’ meeting. He comes back half an hour later fuming when he sees that somehow you’ve been pulled away from where he left you and found company chatting with his boys at the bar.

He gruffs some greetings before dragging you away by the arm so roughly that you have to stifle a yip.

“Are we leaving?”

“No.”

“So what is it, John? You’re making everyone think we’re miserable.”

“We are miserable.”

He’s yet to stop yanking you away. You have to do an awkward half-jog to follow him down a short hallway just outside the washrooms.

“Christ, would you just-“

“You look like a slag in that dress.”

He about throws you straight into the corner at the end of the hall. Muscles in his jaw ticking under the force that he’s using to grit his teeth.

“Sorry?”

His lips are brushing the shell of your ear. Bullying you further back into the wall. You’re entirely taken aback by his ferocity; especially because he usually prefers you wear something much more revealing than this. Some twisted point of pride, him seeing all the men your age drooling over you even after knowing you’re on his arm.

“Ought to let the boys pass you around. See if that won’t sort out that fucking attitude of yours.”

Theres some more protest from you, but it was entirely useless given how worked up he was. He ends up making good on his threat and shoving you into Ghost’s side when he brings you back out. He says something, but you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. Though you assume it’s a half-warning, half-explanation by the way Ghost snakes an arm loosely around your waist and gives a sharp nod. You get off relatively easy all things considered because Ghost is the only one smart enough not to take Price’s words at face value and sneak you away to some coat closet. That’s a permission granted only when John was present and in his right mind.

I cannot stress enough how much it gets him off to see you pregnant. Not like sexually, but he is nothing if not a glutton when it comes to feeding his ego. Likes it when you wear shirts that hug your swollen belly tight so he can see exactly how much your body is changing. Even better if they’re crop-tops that show off the skin that’s now littered with stretch-marks from growing his babies.

I have been saying this, but just to make it clear, he wants a small army of children. Like enough to have one of those trashy reality TV shows about how many kids you have. (In reality I’m getting 4/5 kids in total vibes) Loves coming home from work and seeing you carefully stirring a big pot on the stove while bouncing a baby on your hip, pulling a clingy toddler around on your leg, and situating your school-aged kids with their homework at the table.

But he most definitely hires a live-in nanny to help you out. Knows it’s not fair to leave you with that kind of responsibility. But also it just makes him so hot to see you mothering his kids that he needs to be able to take you away and not have to scramble to find something to occupy the kids.

Makes the nanny take over bath time more often than not so the two of you can take a bubble bath yourselves. He loves the casual intimacy of pouring two glasses of wine and having thirty or forty minutes to yourselves.

Having this visual of you before you’ve started having kids sitting in the tub after being strangely quiet all night. He offers you a heavily-poured glass of red and you’re a little glassy-eyed and staring up at him but making no move to take it.

“You alright, doll?”

“Mm?”

“Said you alright? Don’t want a drink?”

A long moment of silence from you. Long enough for him to perch on the rim of the tub and gently tip you up to look at him by putting a few fingers under your chin.

“John, I think I’m pregnant.”

“So no drink, then.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl-- Part 2

A Homelander x F! Reader fanfic

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this and hope the lenght is enough of an apology, yeah this is gonna be liek 4 parts i got too engrossed btw. hope yall like it here's the previous chapter:

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

word count: 3.4K

Part 2– Calf

As he’d mentioned before the house was an escape proof cage– every window had its hinges super glued or welded shut, glass panels thick enough to prevent shattering but thin enough to allow sound in. That night as he’d left you for the first time you kept your composure, perturbed more by the earlier events that nothing had time to sink in, you venture across the 3 bedroom home, each room old taken straight out from a vintage furniture catalog, the master bedroom smelled just like your grandmother’s, the bathroom walls covered in tacky pink tiles that you told yourself will never get used to.

By the time you explored the whole building you understood the following: The size felt deceiving, without a way to see the outside this building could’ve been 35 floors high and you wouldn’t know, the east-wing of the building at the opposite direction where you’d emerged was cut off from you by a thick metal door, an eye-scan request made its unpickable lock, looking at how it cut on the hardwood floors you’d guess this is where in the kitchen and perhaps the garage and entry hall could be found, this overall felt like an architectural nightmare, the only other oddity of this was the piles and piles of bottled water– Vought branded water… you much rather drink Dasani than this crap… It was by far the worst one in the supermarket.

There were indeed no phones or even ethernet ports on the wall, the TV was bolted in its place and so was the VHS player (and all the furniture too), there were at least 350 titles on the walls (something you bothered to count on day 5), an extremely old vinyl player your only other company... whoever had supposedly lived here was a big fan of Cab Calloway, ABBA and Bruce Springsteen, here you and Bruce could become intimate friends it seems after all you had all his vinyls, alongside an expansive jazz assortment, nothing in this selection went past 1989.

You also learned a very useful fact on day 3 you stared at one of the 18 cameras that you’d found.

“I really want some Mcnuggets! Like just a 12-pack and a large Sprite! Maybe an Oreo Mcflurry too!” You yelled into the camera waving your arms as if the circular lense would reply somehow.

Barely few minutes later the air was filled with the roaring sounds of a bike burning tires seemed the forbidden end faced some road which made you giddy, about 50 minutes later a small door at the door itself opened smoothly where the first strange hand you’ve seen in the last 3 days popped-out leaving a bag with a familiar logo… it wasn’t maccas tho, it was Vought-a-burger which was okay but that wasn’t the point, you picked your meal and your oversize ice-cream and drink and begun connecting lines– Your prison was in Pennsylvania, based on the area code on the phone number on that old pizza box, located close enough from both a pizza chain and on a 15 to 20 minutes drive from a Vought-a-Burger, the library held no maps for you to try to find your location but give or take about an hour or two by foot from any civilization… Yet as you drank the mostly melted caramel churro sundae you smiled thinking of how to steal a bike.

That Night you picked two tapes from the wall not caring one bit about what you were going to see, you stared at the camera.

“Hey can one of you check like an underrated 80s movie list from IMDb ‘cuz I seen a few of these already… at least bring me something new!” 

As always no response was ever given, you dragged your feet towards that ornate bedroom of yours, pink walls, flowery quits, a matching chaise lounge, a hardwood coffee table bolted to the ground and your private TV and VHS player, it took you an hour to remember how to use these thing that second day here. You put on a movie, curling in your bed in the dark, smelling the sweet flowery smell of fabric softener, this didn’t smell like home, pillows too soft, mattress too soft everything here was made to bring you comfort but it was making you feel like a squatter.

The cold light of the screen enveloped every surface and you slowly faded away as ‘Lady in White’ began to wrap up, eyes glued to the screen so firmly you screamed when the faint red light peeked from the corner, clutching the quilt across your body as the red faded away and all you saw was a vaguely illuminated shape.

Blurry colors with no clean shapes, standing facelessly enough blue to let you see it was humanoid, Homelander creeped closer, his body blocking the light and like a shadow he devours everything, he turned around to pause the player, draping his gloves on the dumb box as he turned around once more, your heart caught in your throat, each breath quick and sharp as he took another step closer, hushing softly and he’s there swallowing you whole he kneeled into the bed the mattress squeaked and chimed sinking under his weight pulling you in, only the faint outline of gold eagles and soft blonde locks told you with absolute certainty that he was here… that 3 days ago you indeed met The Homelander, far from the pretty blue-eyed hunk from the movies more ghoul.

You swallowed as his head rested on the pillow next to your hips, his nose burying in the cushioned pillowcase.

“I was busy with work” He mumbles softly, staring at you with the same playfulness of a guilty pet owner who’d ran out of their cat's churu treats– "I promise to visit, I got you something… left it downstairs for you.” 

He stared at your white knuckled hands and without uttering a word you understood his demands, fingers moved by psychic force alone, you welcomed him into your lap as you came undone, burying your digits into his hair, soft like cotton, so smooth you dreamt of cat’s bellies as you scratched him, he took the remote from under you lifting you with so much ease your brain struggled to compute it at first, the movie played and all he wanted was petting.

“Security told me you’ve been good… nothing crazy… am glad, "he said with a tired tone.

“What good would that do me…?” You replied with your eyes focused on the screen.

If you wanted to survive I had to get on his good side, no? you though

“I like it when you people understand your place” He chuckles softly.

‘You people’? You could easily discern the meaning behind his words by tone alone, your finger stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring up immediately.

“I think this would be more productive if you told me exactly what’s going on… I won’t try to run or scream… am just confused and scared…” you spoke bluntly as his gaze met yours in the dark.

“This is my private speakeasy and you’re the bartender… tap too… is hard being on top… and I want some relief… and a sanctum–

“To express your socially unacceptable inclinations/interests? Fair enough I can imagine the press would eat you alive if they found out you liked breastmilk.”

“You’re cute and smart too.” He pushed himself into your stomach, your body sinking to the shape he wanted, holding you tight– I’ll be a good owner and let you asks me absolutely anything you want”

“Why me?”

“Dunno.” His lips tightened into a flat line– the doctors picked you, I asked for a good provider… but all the women downstairs and you did have one thing in common” He sounded awkward as he spoke listening to your increasing heartbeat– you kept producing… I asked to have easy access to my treat but somebody downstairs came out with all of this” his hand lazily gestures around– bit extra I know.”

How simple, he didn’t even care about this to begin with, glaring at him gave you no answers or comfort.

“My family…?”

“They think you killed yourself, I've been told… your ex-hubby been on twitter acting holier than the virgin mary, absolutely devastated for likes” You bit your lips, face scrunching up ready to shout and cry– everybody suspects he murdered you even the cops”

“I'm going to kill him!!” Your tears flowed regardless – god fucking dammit!”

Your whole body rejected the news, twisting your stomach and filling you with needles

“How would you do it?”

“Bash his head in with a hammer…?? I don’t know but fuck him! I wasted 5 years of my life with that bastard!” You cried.

Homelander buried his face into your stomach, hiding the smile on his face. as you cursed outloud for a little bit, he paid no attention to your words.

“Sorry…” You cleaned your tears trying to stop this embarrassing display, the mere thought of him acting like he cared made you sick when he wouldn’t even come to his own son’s funeral– are you gonna hurt me?” you cleaned your nose against the pillow.

He moved so quickly before you knew it he’s face to face and even in this dark room only lit by rolling credits he appeared serene as a painting… It makes your blood run cold.

“Why would I hurt my comforter?”

That night he only slept for a couple hours, never moving from your stomach, holding you regardless, he snored softly, mumbling half-spoken words, lips twitching and brows furrowing, you petted him gently watching his hardened frown melt.

Some days he’d come once, others he’d come five times and then there were the days were you didn’t see him at all, leaving you awkwardly aware about how odd these exchanges felt… for it never felt truly sexual, your fears of molestation and ‘real’ assault dissuaded as you accepted that all this man was doing was come here to whine and bitch about work and suck on your titty– like right now, Homelander has been shouting, talkign so much shit about his coworkers you started to wonder if it was made up for nobody could certainly be that allegedly incompetent, about how stressful it was to do 20 plus media interviews all day, about hoq\w his latest film “Justice Serve” was a fucking nightmare already despite being only half-way thru pre-production.

“Do you even know what it's like to deal with idiots who think they’re better than you because they have an award!?” He put your nipple back in his mouth with a frown– who does Villeneuve think he is” He mumbled into your skin.

Yet he didn’t only bring petty grievances and thirsty lips– he showered you with gifts, perfumes you couldn’t pronounce filled with soft fragrances: sweet but not sugary, warm tones without too much spice. Brought you beauty products to pamper you… to watch you play with from the many cameras in the house, and dressed you like a doll in clothes you honestly wouldn't have bought in the first place, too flowery and tradwifey.

You did so with a fake smile, you’d be pretty for him if you must, keep your tongue in-check and swallow the ever increasing knot in your throat for he at least wasn’t loud towards you, he didn’t yell, he didn’t make scenes… you were just living like his newest pet.

His miniature cow standing in the living room instead of the evergreen pastures outside, VHS tapes and steel food trays made your fence.

You keep busy cleaning this house making stories of who had lived there, Bruce the only one who spoke to you.

Analysing the house inch by inch, there had to have been a spot they’ve missed you kept thinking, you figured that somehow they monitored your sleep cycle, only entering to remove dirty clothes and trash in the death of night, they knew if you were obviously awake, on day 14 you stayed up till around 5 am and not a peep was heard accross the house but as you woke past noon all your trash had been cleaned up, on day 16 you stayed awake all day felt sick passed out and same thing, you would find a way out, you would force them to take you out, all the furniture was glued in its post but if you had to cause a fire you fucking would… as you stared at your clean bedsheets you figure you could force them to come in and drag you outside but as you postulated the possibility of a faux-suicide attempt Homelander’s face flashed accross closed eyes– dare dissapointing him and lose all the goodwill you’d been building, trust, even presents more extravagant than anything your ex ever did.

Had he not kidnapped you, hold you against your will in an underground bunker, used you as a milk fountain and terrified the fuck out of you with his invisible steps in the middle of the night you would had found him charming… endearing even… at least he was still handsome… frightening but handsome.

Day 18-19-20 were the worse so far, days went by and your isolation only grew he had not come by, your meals delivered so quietly you missed them and found them cold, birds either too loud or gone but Homelander never came, every hour the anxiety only grew as you found your throat aching to speak with somebody other than a non-present 80s musician.

You made a stack of the movies you’ve seen yelling to the camera demanding more to watch, abandoning the cause to focus on the obscene collection of Danielle Steel books in the library… at least 30 books, at least it was a distraction as you woke up for the third day in a row without hearing from Homelander. 

You talked to yourself, prettier views didn’t make up for human interaction, you had isolated yourselves before… you didn’t eat, shower, answer calls, simply left yourself to rot in your bed, sinking deeper and deeper into your mattress, the calm heartbeat of the machine keeping you alive until the phone battery died, now here you were curling in the couch feeling that endless void inside you screaming back at you, nothing to distract you from it any longer.

How ironic that those days locked in the basement had been the firsts since the funeral that you’d hadn’t thought about it.

Now every sleep came with dreams of distant cries, empty halls that cooed back, and a sense of urgency as time slipped from underneath you, nothing here smelled like him, yet in your sleep you held your pillow as you once held him, swearing it smelled like him, in the silence the singing birds sound like babies, but there’s nothing but creaking floorboards, old pipes and foreign ghosts in this place.

In this endless silence your mind told you this was limbo, jazz solos disguised the pandemonium of a silent afterlife, but as your heart anguished once again you buried yourself in paltry distractions, reading out loud as to keep your vocal chords warm and delude yourself that there was some company in here, mostly to hide the nonexistent crying.

It took you by surprise when half way thru ‘The Ghost’ you heard the buzzing of the steel door, your ears perked up stretching your neck before falling into the floor, shaky knees picked you up once more with a brave kick, quick steeping into the living room– Homelander stood staring at the messy pile talking to the camera to have this sorted and for the first time since you’d been here you sawn another human, who answered his call almost immediately, a man in kevlar rushed in his gun bouncing on his back alongside a young man dragging an ikea bag.

“Homelander!” Your voice was hoarse but he still turned to smile at you.

“We got you some new movies Ms. L/N” The young man spoke dropping the bag with a heavy thud.

“Watch it!” Homelander growled and you saw a slight stain dribble down his pants– just go wait in the library kitten while these ones sort this out for you.” 

Your feet moved anyways, too excited by the presence of new faces, had he not cleared his throat you would’ve said anything just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, you looked away and that big steel door was wide open, an armed guard by the exit tho… it was an office, painted white with cool fluorescent lights. 

Run, the voices scream.

Run.

For fucks sake run!!\

but...

You stay still.

It’s a test. Run and die, run and he’d snap your spine in thirds before you understand what happened your brain would be separated from your cranium no doubt, you swallow and take a step back, slow heavy agonizing steps lead you to the library.

Homelander’s gaze softens as he watches you sit by the unlit fireplace, he follows you soon after leaving the staff to work behind, you lift your head with a stiff neck, your tongue swollen inside your mouth, he smiles gently dropping to your level, carrying a small box.

The pretty bow doesn’t catch your attention in the least.

Not that dashing smile and ever so blue eyes either.

He tickles your nose without touching.

Chamomile and oat, a pale scent, subtle and clean…

As he scoot closer to you urging you to take the meaningless box held by nude hands, he pets your chin, leaving you to catch nutty tones… his hands smell of almond oil and cream.

He’s talking as he guides your hand into opening the present but you aren’t hearing a single word spoken… all you care about is his aroma…it invides you carving an aching hollow chest, making you dizzy and the world is squeezing your whole body with a thousands of pounds of violent force but you’re still held in one piece, wrapping your neck with the necklace he’d got you, touching every exposed inch leaving traces of sweet almond on you, resting his chin on your stiff shoulder so close whispering sweet nothings to you… hair smells so creamy… milky coconut, it makes you ill– You could name every brand he wore if asked.

“You like it?” He asks into your neck.

‘Like’ what? You guessed he meant the necklace.

“Where have you been?” You asked, wanting to think of anything but that bitter scent.

He pushes you down into the carpet, your hair drapes everywhere so he moves it to give himself no chance to pull it, you can’t even argue but your surprise and discomfort still paints your face, before you can say anything he drops his head on your stomach, nuzzling your dress and pulling your hand towards his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it” his muffle words sound angry, he whined into your stomach a quiet order demanding affection.

Obeying orders before he could whined even more for now you wanted silence again.

Staying like this for as long as he needed, leaving you to speculate what brought him such distress that caused him to abandon you as a result, a part of you stared in awe as you realized you how long this man could stay still without making a sound for.

How long did you lay there in a shared repose that your eyes shut? you wondered as the orange glow of afternoon sun warmed your cheeks, his hand cleaned a falling tear off your face as you woke up with a headache.

“Had a nightmare?”

Your hand unconsciously pulled him close to you, burying his face under your chin he’d awkwardly smiled as he adjusted to your demands, talking to you but it was white noise, your kept him still bridging an arm across his neck locking him in position, your other hand buried in blond, closing your eyes as you got high on shampoo.

In your mind much like your dream you hold him so close, he was plump and giddy, his hair more than a thin tuff, you laughed with him, as you dried his back, you swore to never love the scent of coconut, you held back your pain as you held him with all your might.

“I don’t want to talk about it…”

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: After being a guest on the podcast, you thought your communication with Zach was over with, but that was until you got a certain texts from a certain someone.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, dealer!Zach, mentions of smoking weed, being high, friends to lovers, cuddling, cute actions, fluffy and smutty, unprotected sex, biting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, sensual filth

Word count: 3.7k | not edited

Sorry this took so long, I’ve had writers block for days. I hope it’s okay, love yas! Enjoy! 🖤

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You walk through the door, “Hello, hello.”

“Ahh!!” Tara says excitedly, “I so happy you’re here!” She walks over to you and you embrace her in a hug, “I’m so glad you reached out, again, thank you!”

“We’re so excited to have you.” Tara says as she leads you over to the seat, “You can have the honor of sitting next to Zach, he’s probably going to target you today anyway. I think he has a little crush on you.”

You roll your eyes laughing as you sit, “Yeah, I seen how he is. I watched a few videos to kind of catch up on everything.”

Zach and Jared walk in and Jared is the first to greet you, “Hey, y/n. How are you?” He walks over and you stand back up to hug him, “I’m good, busy. But good. How are you?”

He nods, “I’m good.” He steps out of the way and you gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

Zach smirks, “Sheesh, I know I’m attractive but no need to make it a big deal.” You shake your head as you walk over, laying a hand on the head of the dog in his arms, “I was talking about the dog.”

Zach nods ever so slightly and his voice is low, “I know.”

You smirk, scooping the dog from his arms, “You just lost your dog.” You walk back over and sit down to put on your headphones, hands going right back to love on the dog in your lap.

“So, this is your first time meeting Zach right?” Jared asks and you look up, giving him a nod, “Yep, first time, I mean. I think we’ve followed each other on Instagram for a little bit.”

Zach holds his hand up and tilts his head, “Oh, so we have decided to pretend like last night didn’t happen, got it.”

Your mouth drops and you gasp, “Zach.” You laugh, “Don’t do that.” Tara raises her hand, “Actually, y/n was with me last night.” She looks at you, “Can I say it!?”

You smile, nodding your head, “Yeah, go for it.”

“So for those of you who don’t know who y/n is, she has multiple brands, a swimsuit line, a make up line-“

Alyssa cuts Tara off, “Which are both really good by the way.”

You smile and blow her a kiss. She pretends to catch it and you laugh and Zach scoffs, “Get a room.”

“Wow. I don’t know who Zach is more jealous of today, Alyssa or Handsome for being in y/n’s lap.” Jared laughs and Zach sighs, “Have you ever heard of the term, think before you speak?”

“Have you?” Tara and Jared yell at Zach in unison and you cover hour mouth, “I’m so glad I showed up today.”

——

Followers in each others Instagram lists is what you and Zach have been to each other for a while.

You’d like his stuff when you seen it, vice versa.

You couldn’t lie when you said his posts didn’t put a smile on your face, or make your heart skip a little beat when he posted a picture he looked a little too good in.

You’ve been newly single these last few months, and you just knew that you were set out to get nervous around anyone you found attractive.

But Zach didn’t make you nervous.

He made you feel comfortable.

You felt like you knew him for as long as you followed him on insta. It was weird, but yet, so refreshing to just have someone talk and joke around with you.

There only thing that was serious about it, was the tension you hoped no one picked up on, but with being a, basically five star rated influencer, you had a fan base that picked apart every thing you did.

So in the long run, you wouldn’t be shocked if you woke up to you and Zach trending on twitter or have new edits posted that ship the two of you that your friends would send to tease you.

Your phone rings, pulling you from your thoughts.

You sit up from your bed and reach over, furrowing your brows when you see a number displayed across the screen.

You answer, kinda skeptical, “Hello?”

“Y/n?”

You pull your head back, slightly shocked, “Zach?”

“Yeah thank Tara for leaving her phone laying around.” He chuckles and you laugh, “You could have just asked for it, you know?”

He sighs, “Yeah, I don’t know why I didn’t just do that.”

You smile and tilt your head, “So, what’s up?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, “Do you.. want to come over?” He quickly follows up, “Just to hang out.”

The words roll off your tongue with major ease, “I would love to just hang out with you.” You tease, “I’ll text you when I leave.”

——

You pulled back up to Zach’s, chewing on your lip as you text him, I’m here.

He responds back almost instantly, like he was waiting for you already, Come in through the studio door.

You get out, making sure you have everything before you walk towards the door. As you grow closer, Zach pushes it open, giving you a smile, “Hello again.”

“Hey.” You smile as you walk past him and into the house. He nods towards the steps and you follow him, making your way up to his room.

He motions for you to go in and you oblige, walking in, and you know his eyes are on your eyes, but you can only smile.

You turn around as he closes the door and he licks his lips, “So if I did my research right..” he walks over to his nightstand and opens the door, “C’mere.”

You walk around and your jaw drops as the sight in front of you, “Zachary Justice.”

His head snaps towards you, “What?”

You smirk, shaking your head, “What a plot twist you are.” His eyes look around the room, “Not following.”

You sit down next to him and you lean in, “Are you a..” your voice goes barely audible, “..drug dealer?”

He turns his head, his lips inches from yours, “I stay away from the harder shit, so..” he purses his lips, “that would just make me a, weed dealer then?”

You nod slowly, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, “I supposed it would, wouldn’t it.”

He smiles, looking back down at the box in front of him, “I can roll us a blunt if you want, a joint. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Well, how m-“

“Mm.” He shakes his head, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You laugh slightly and he looks at you, a smirk toying with his lips, “Offer to pay. If I wanted you to pay, I would have gotten the money first.”

You bite your lip, “Okay.” You swallow, “We can just do a joint or something. Doesn’t have to be much.”

He nods, pulling a pre-rolled joint from a thick plastic bag, “Okay.” He nods towards the bed, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You look at the bed and back to him, “You.. you’re gonna smoke in here?” He nods, “Or whenever you’re comfortable. I usually just do it here while watching a movie.”

“Do they know?” You start to kick off your shoes, “Jared and everyone else?”

Zach nods, “Yeah, they get from me, so they keep it hushed.” He slips his shirt up over his head and walks over to you, placing the joint between his lips as he lights it.

He takes a drag and hands it to you, “I’m going to go get some snacks, tray is there. Remote is here. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

You smile, taking the joint from him, “Thank you, Zach.” You watch him walk out before you place the joint between your lips, taking a much needed drag.

You hold in the smoke, eyes glancing over the screen as you look at the movies. You tilt your head back letting out the smoke as you slowly feel the buzz of being high creep its way in.

You hear the door open and tilt your head up, “That was fast.” You take another drag, eyes watching as he walks around to his side of the bed.

He chuckles, setting down the stuff he brought, “Did you pick a movie?” He looks up and over to you, you nod, handing him the joint, “Uh huh. I was just-“

You pause as you watch him take a drag, “-waiting for you.”

He nods, “so nice.” He smirks back at you and hands you the joint. You press play as you take a third hit, really feeling relaxed now.

You move back towards the headboard, leaning up against it as you move around to get comfy.

Zach glances back and shifts over and back to lay between your legs, his arms hooked under, so his hands rest on top of your thighs.

You look down at him, smiling as you take another hit.

You reach down, placing the joint between his lips and he nods his head when he wants you to pull it away.

You sit up, putting the joint in the tray before you slowly lean down. Your free hand on his cheek as your press your lips to his, mumbling out, “Blow.”

He exhales and you inhale the smoke from his mouth.

You peck his lips quickly before sitting up to exhale, “Sorry. I’ve always wanted to do that.” You explain and he tilts his head back to look at you.

You glance down at him, “I had a feeling you’d be okay with it.”

“The only thing you had a feeling about today?” He asks and you shake your head. He bites his lip, nodding his head slightly.

You clench your jaw as each movement of his neck resting against your clothed crotch area sends shivers up your spine.

“I figured I’d take a shot because your eyes..” he smirks, “Your eyes said you were feeling it, too.”

All you can do is nod slowly. Your hand moves to his hand and your run your fingers through the brown stands as he stare up at you, “Talk to me, baby.”

His quiet voice makes you feel weak.

“I feel it.” You whisper out, eyes moving to his glossed over ones, “I’ve never.. felt this way with someone before.”

“It’s nice, right..” Zach laughs weakly, “When you fall so unexpectedly for someone and they feel the same way back.” His hands slide down to give your knees a squeeze and you clench around nothing from the action.

He knows he’s teasing you, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move. Or, for you to tell him to stop, which is something you won’t be doing.

He smirks, looking back at the tv. A little bit goes by and he’s now laying with his arms on either side of your body and his head rested on your shoulder.

His forehead is resting against your neck and you’re nervous now, and the urge to swallow is screaming at your loudly.

You don’t want to seem nervous, but if this goes you know in your gut it’s going, you can’t help but be nervous.

“You know.” Zach says, finally breaking the long silence. You hum in response and he chuckles slightly, “Weed.. be perfect together.”

You giggle slightly, “That’s cute.”

“Get it.. weed..” he laughs weakly and gets serious really fast, “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave.” You run a hand through his hair, “You’re cute. You have good weed, and you make me laugh? Please. You’ll have to kill me to get me away from you.”

You feel him smirk and he pulls your body closer to him, “Good thing I don’t want a murder charge.”

You laugh and almost like muscle memory, plant a kiss to his forehead. Instantly, he retaliates with a gentle kiss to your neck.

Neck kisses are your weakness.

You test it again, planting another kiss on his head. He kisses your neck again, and again. And again.

You let out a little moan as he sucks gently, his teeth grazing your skin, “Mm, you like that huh?” Zach’s voice is low in your ear.

You nod, a hand sliding to the back of his head, “Yes.”

He starts kissing your neck again, his hand sliding up to push your sweatshirt up your stomach slightly. Your muscles twitch under the light brush of his finger tips and you gasp, whimpering out as you feel his teeth sink into your skin.

You moan, body pushing closer to his as he kisses up to your ear, “You sound so pretty.” He gently bites down on your bottom lip before his fingers slide to the bottom of your sweatshirt, “Can I go under?”

You raise your brows, “Such a gentleman.” Zach smiles, pecking your lips in between kisses, “I.. just.. want you.. to be.. comfortable.. and.. relaxed, baby.”

You go to sit up and he cups your cheek, bringing you back to him, “Let me do it.” He sits up and quickly but gently takes off your sweatshirt.

You bite your lip and lay back down, Zach lays back down besides your and slips his arm under your head as your leg goes over his hip.

Your hand moves to rest on his neck as your lips meet again, but this time the kiss was hungry.

His hand slides from your thigh to your ass and he pushes you in to meet his hips. You moan against his lips when you feel his hard bulge press against your clothed cunt, “Please.”

He moves his hand from your ass and brings it up to squeeze your boobs, going back and fourth between them.

You tilt your head back, moaning out as you grind down onto him, “Zach..” your tilt your head forward, “P-please.”

He slides a hand down between your bodies, leaning his back so he has room to slip his hand into your sweats and panties.

Your breathing grows rapid as you await the needed touch. His fingers slide down to press onto your clit and your breathing gets caught in your throat as your hips buck forward slightly.

“That what you want? Does it feel good, sweetheart?” Zach asks against your lips. You whimper out, “Feels so good..” you reach down to push his hand down a little further, “Need more of you.”

He waists no time fulfilling your request.

Two of his fingers slip into you, causing a groan to rip from his own lips, “Fuck, you’re so tight just around my fingers.”

Your eyes roll back as his fingers curl to reach that perfect little spot, “F-fuck.” Your chest pushes into his and he groans, “Can you cum for me?” He kisses your neck, “I want to get you off, sweetheart.”

“Close.” You whisper out, “Keep going.”

“Think you can take a third, baby?” Zach asks and you nod eagerly, “Please, please, please.” Your voice is whiney, “Fuck.”

You feel Zach’s two fingers withdrawal but they’re quick to return and you moan louder as the slight stretch you feel as he thrusts them into you slowly.

“F-fuck.” You gasp out, arching your back as Zach leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth.

His tongue flicking and swirling over sends you over the edge, squeezing his fingers and moaning continuously.

Your hands tangle in his hair and tug, earning a groan that vibrates your nipple that’s between this teeth.

He guides you through your high, kissing up to your lips before he pulls his hand out of your sweats.

You wanted more of him.

You grab the waist band of his sweats and tug on them, leaning in to have a turn with his neck. He groans as you kiss and lick upward, whispering quietly in his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

His cock twitches against your hand, “if that’s what you want.” He whispers as he grips your hand and pushes it down harder.

You squeeze and pull your hand away so you can roll over to take off your sweats and panties. You turn back, shocked at how quick Zach was to take the rest of his clothes off.

“I know, I’m quick.” He smirks and grabs your arm, pulling you back into him. He pulls the blankets back up around your bodies before moving to roam the newly freed skin.

You tilt your head up, lips searching for his. You weren’t sure if it was just because of your connection with him, or the fact that you were high, but you feel so needy for him.

And Zach loved it.

He drapes your left leg over his hip as pulls you closer, his lips connect to yours. You moan against his lips as you feel the head of his cock brushing up agains your soaked opening.

Your nails dig into his back as you whimper, rolling your hips into his, “Baby.”

Zach grips your hips, pulling you down as he pushes his hips upward. You gasp, jaw falling slack as you feel him slide into you.

You look at him, brows furrowed as you slide your left hand to his cheek.

He breathes out quickly before smashing his lips to yours, “Fuck you feel so good.”

You moan against his lips, walls clenching his cock as he thrusts in and out at a slow pace. He had you feeling so good within a matter of seconds, the way you felt from the high mixing in made you feel like you were on top of the world.

Nothing mattered but Zach.

No busy work days.

No constant emails, calls, and texts.

Your world was silent for a moment, for the first time in a while.

“Fuck.” You whine out, digging your heels into the back of his thigh, “Gonna cum.” You smoosh your lips to his, moaning against them as you cum undone around him.

“That’s it, baby.” Zach whispers as his hands press harder into your body, “Just let go for me.” He presses his lips to your forehead before resting his own against yours.

He slides a hand up to your cheek, running his thumb over it as he groans lowly. You slide your thumb to his lips, pulling it down slightly as you moan out, your voice soft when you speak, “You sound so hot.”

He groans at your words, moving to bury his face into your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, “Keep talking, please.”

Your hand slides around to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, “You make me feel so good, Zach.” You gasp when you feel his hand slide down to rub on your clit, “Fuck.”

You tilt your head back and he lifts his head to attach his lips to your skin. You squeeze his cock, earning a moan from him.

You smirk slightly, “Does that feel good?” You tilt his head up to peck his lips and he nods, “Fuck, baby. Yes, so good.”

His hands grip your body and he rolls on top of you, your legs instantly locking ankles on his lower back, “Where do you want me?”

You arch your back, moaning out as he keeps his thrusts as steady as he can, “Just.. pull out if you can.”

He nods, connecting his lips to yours again. You drag your nails up his back, and he thrusts his cock into you, “Sh-“

You feel his cock quickly disappear from you before feeling his cum pool between your hips. He lifts his head from your shoulder and kisses your cheek before he gets up to get something for you to wipe off with.

Your eyes follow him as you regain your breath. He hands you a towel and you smile as you take it.

“So do you want to start the movie where you started distracting me or?” He looks at you with a smirk and you roll your eyes as you sit up, “Hey now. I’m not the one who started the neck kissing.”

“But you did start the kissing.. I mean, the whole sucking the smoke from my mouth?”

You feel your cheek redden and you fight back a smirk, “Mm.”

He nods, slipping on his sweats before bending down to grab his shirt for you. He crawls on the bed, “don’t think I definitely didn’t pick up on that little peck before you backed away “

You roll your eyes, laughing as you take and slip on the shirt, “whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.” You look over at him and he leans back, pulling you with him, “I’m sure hoping it’s you now, but.. yeah.”

You smile, leaning into his body and watching as he hits play, “If that’s what you want.” His hand moves to intertwined his fingers with yours, “If it’s what you want, too.”

You squeeze his hand, “It is.”

——

A little bit into the movie, you’re laying on Zach with your head on his chest and you let out a quiet sigh, “Thank you.”

His thumb moves over your shoulder, “For what, sweetheart?”

You laugh slightly, “Well, not only getting yourself hired as my new dealer.” You smirk and look up at him and he looks down at you, “Oh yeah? Who says I’m taking new clientele.”

You roll your eyes, “Please. I have you wrapped around my finger.”

“And I love every second of it.” Zach leans down and pecks your lips, causing you to smile and giggle slightly, “And for making me feel like a normal person for once.”

He brushes hair from your face, “I figured you could use a little time out of any sort of light, hence why it’s so dark in here if you didn’t- yeah.”

You reach up, laying a hand on his cheek, "Gosh, how lucky am I? You do have a sweet side, Zach Justice." You scrunch your nose, smirking slightly as he smiles at your joke, "Do you think people will judge me for falling for my weed dealer?"

He reaches up lazily hold your wrist as his head turns to press a kiss to your palm, “I only care what you think, baby.”

——

Thank you for being patient.. I’ve had major writers block this last week or so and I’m trying to push through it. Let me know how you liked it!

As always, I love you all! Thank you for reading!🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[fictionalthrill]

Forced Hand: Chapter 1 - Inescapable Past

A/N: Greetings! Here is the first chapter of my Gwayne Hightower series. Sorry for making it such a late post! Thanks to whomever takes the time to read my writing. As I mentioned yesterday on this post, this series will not be fully canon nor will it accurately follow details from the show/book. I will follow certain details but given the nature of the story, I will take many liberties. Also, I will do my best create a HoTD environment through descriptions and dialogue, but I don't expect that to be accurate either...

Also, I will now present my blog as an 18+ space given the route I plan to take with my writing. I don't plan to write anything explicitly salacious, but certain topics and themes will come up and I just want to be cautious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Description: Lady Y/N Blackstone is informed by her father that he intends to arrange a marriage for her... again. Meanwhile, Gwayne gets a visit from his father. WARNINGS FOR THE CHAPTER: Nothing that requires warning. Pairing: Female Reader (Lady Y/N Blackstone) x Gwayne Hightower

There were many ways in which Y/N’s day could have started. However, as she tried to indulge her morning meal, the way her day already unfolded was certainly not what she had expected.

         “I’m sorry, father, but I must refuse to this,” she said.

         “Refuse? Darling, you cannot simply refuse, this is not how things work,” he said.

         “I believe I should be allowed to refuse yet another forced marriage attempt. I do not need to be married off, I can survive on my own. I say you do not concern yourself with me and rather focus on Lorenah’s future.”

         “Y/N, you are my daughter, as is Lorenah, both your futures are of my concern.”

         “But to go through this again? I do not wish to endure all I did the first time. I would rather Lorenah’s prospects are secured, properly, so she does not suffer the same fate as me. The rest does not matter.”

         “But it does. Who shall provide for you and look after you once I am gone?” her father said, but then found himself in a cough fit. Y/N went to stand to help but he waved his hand. “I am alright.”

         “I do not need to be looked after, father. Besides, I am far from the preferred marriage age, and my prospects have long been tarnished. You know who made sure of that.”

         “You are not far from the marriage age. It might not be the ideal but—”

         “What has brought this on again, anyways? It was aunt Sesa, was it not?”        

         “Your aunt—”

         “I knew it,” she cut him off and stood up. “Any time that woman visits she takes it upon herself to intervene in our lives and you let her!”

         “Y/N.”

         “No. She intervened when you try to marry me off and we all know how that went. Then she rushed you into finding Aianna a match, and now she’s back looking to start things up again.”

         “Y/N, how can your future be ensured if I am no longer walking the earth?”

         She came closer to him and took his hand in hers. “Father, I understand you care and in caring you worry for me, but I will be fine. Besides, I’ve already spoken to Aianna, and her and Lord Corbus are more than happy to take me in, if needs be.”

         He removed his hand from hers. “You’ve discussed this with your sister?”

         “You didn’t really believe I hoped to give marriage another try did you?”

         He stared at her. “That was not for you to discuss.”

         “No? Father, it is my life, and the last time it was in someone else’s hand, I was—”

         Just then, Sesa appeared in the room. “Good morrow, Lord Blackstone. Ah, Y/N!”

         “Aunt Sesa,” Y/N grumbled as she walked away from her father.

         “Sesa, morning,” Lord Blackstone greeted.

         Sesa approached the table and took a seat.

         “I am going to see how preparations are going for Lorenah’s arrival,” Y/N said.

         “Oh, Y/N, has your father told you the news?”

         “That—”

         “I was actually discussing it with her now.”

         “Oh, there’s no need for discussion this is great news!”          “I beg to differ,” Y/N said.

         “Y/N, it is unbecoming of a lady of your age and stature to be unwed.”

         “What is unbecoming is to be engaged one day only to find out the next it is no longer so.”

         “Y/N,” her father tried to reign her in.

         “Well, yes, that is unbecoming and unfortunate. But it does not define the rest of your life. Being a spinster, however, that can stain a family name.”

         She walked towards the doors and turned to stare at her aunt Sesa. “My status has not affected this family in any way. Aianna was able to marry well and Lorenah has garnered the favor of many suitors already, all awaiting the day father accepts an offer for her hand.”

         “Y/N,” Lord Blackstone tried again.

         “This is you having nothing to do but to meddle in our lives, yet again.”

         “Y/N!”

         Her eyes landed on her father.

         “It’s alright, Lord Blackstone,” Sesa said. “I am not meddling. Like my own two daughters, you and your sisters were born to fulfill your duties. You are to marry and provide your Lord husbands with heirs to further extend the livelihood of this house. I am only trying to aid your father so that you may pursue that.”

         “Aunt Sesa, might I remind you, that I was not the one to choose this path for myself. And this time, I refuse to be humiliated again by others making decisions for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

         “Y/N,” her father called after her as she left the room. Sesa waved him off.

         “It is alright, Lord Blackstone. Let her decompress; give her time.”

         “I am afraid she has grown too stubborn as well hot-headed.”

         “All a result of being unwed. Which is why it is so important you find her a husband before it becomes permanent.”

         “I do not know about that, Sesa. It was not until I mentioned a husband that she lashed out in that way. The gods know what fire burns inside her since her misfortune… it’s taken her time to make peace with it all and here I am looking to drag her down the aisle again.”

         “My Lord, it is a woman’s duty to wed. While the circumstances were unforeseen and out of your control, it does not mean she must be condemned to the life of a spinster. If a lord will have her as a wife, you must not pass on the opportunity. Have you sent word?”

         “Not as of yet. I have only just considered this and, so far, she is unaccepting of the idea.”

         “She will accept it in time. As fathers and mothers, we know what is best for our children.”

         “May the gods will it so. I will make it known tomorrow.”

--

         After Blackstone finally made his plans for his daughter known, several days passed and it was enough time for word to spread. The eligibility of the daughter of one of the most prominent houses in the Veil was news that would gradually reach others. However, given said daughter was once engaged, word spread like wildfire.

         Y/N did her best to keep her mind off it, resorting to avoiding the subject and everyone in her path. That was until her sister’s arrival.

Y/N stood on the steps of the Blackstone castle watching as Lorenah exited one of the family carriages and made her towards the entrance. A smile broke on Y/N’s face as Lorenah approached her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Oh, how I missed you!” Y/N said.

“I missed you too, sister!” Lorenah replied.

As Y/N let go, she grabbed Lorenah’s hands, and her eyes scanned her fully. “Is that a new dress?”

“Do you like it? Aianna had it made for me.”

“It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are.” Y/N came at her sister’s side and draped an arm over her shoulders as she guided her in. “Come, I want you to tell me everything. From the beginning of your journey to the very end. You must be hungry.”

Just as they had made it inside, their father appeared to greet Lorenah. “My sweet little, Lorenah!” He extended his arms for her, and she left Y/N’s side to hug him.

“Father!”

Lord Blackstone chuckled as he took a step back to get a better look at his youngest daughter. “You appear taller. Or am I just getting smaller?”

“It is only because you have not seen me in some time, father.”

“Maybe so.”

Suddenly, Sesa came into the room, her arms extended, but not as an opening for a hug. “My dear, Lorenah, you have returned!”

Lorenah, stood before Sesa and curtsied. “Aunt Sesa.”

“It is good to see you again, my niece.”

          “I am glad to have returned, Aunt Sesa.”

         “Right, let us eat!” Lord Blackstone said. “The cook has prepared your favorite. Go on, it should be served soon.”

         “Thank you, father.” As Lorenah proceeded to the room, Sesa not far behind her, Y/N stood in place, contemplating whether dinner would be worth sitting through.

         “Will you be joining us, Y/N?” Lord Blackstone asked. “I am sure Lorenah would be happy if you joined us.”

         “I suppose so.” Y/N was about to strut past her father when he held her hand in his.

         “Dearest, please do not continue to be angry with me. I am only trying to do what is best for you.”

         “If that were really the case you would not choose for me to endure this again.”

         “Who will look after you when I am gone? Who will provide for you if I do not find you a husband to do so?”

         “Father, Aianna and I discussed this. They are willing to take me in.”      

         A fit of coughs broke out of him before he continued. “I do not appreciate you discussing something like this with your sister. It is not up to you to make these decisions.”

         “Father, listen to yourself. You are ill. You need me here. Lorenah, needs me here.”

         He placed a hand on her cheek. “My daughter, you are unlike no other. You have always strived to put yourself last. But this is not something you can be left behind on. Please, let us get past this.”

         “Clearly, I have no choice in the matter,” she said before she walked away from her father.

--

         As the Lord of Oldtown, Ser Gwayne Hightower did not take interest in news or happenings of the Realm unless it concerned his House or the interests of the crown. If he did not hear of it from his close advisors, he would learn of it from his father, the Hand of the King. Which is why he assumed there was something of critical importance when he was informed his father arrived.

         One of his advisors left his side as he walked over to Ser Otto. “Lord Hand, I was not aware you would be coming to Oldtown.”

         “It was not planned. We must talk,” Otto said.

         “Let us go inside then.”

         Gwayne led his father towards his study. As they stepped inside, one of the servants appeared at the door. “Shall I bring forth refreshments, my lords?”

         “No, leave us.” Otto answered. The servant bowed his head and left the two men in the study.

         “Is this a matter of the crown?” Gwayne asked.

         “No, not directly.”

         “Not directly?”

         “I received word that Lord Blackstone is once again offering the hand of one of his daughters.”

         Gwayne’s eyes snapped up to his father. Now, the courting of a lord’s daughter wasn’t something that garnered his attention. But in this instance, he couldn’t help himself.

         “And this concerns us how?”

         “It is Lady Y/N.”

         It was as Gwayne feared. Still, he kept his composure before his father, as to not reveal his disappointment. “I do not understand, father. You came all the way from King’s Landing to tell me this?”

         Otto approached his son. “Not just to tell you, but to urge you to request her hand.”

         “Request her hand?”

         “Gwayne, this is a union that could be most beneficial to our family. Lady Y/N is the eldest of Blackstone’s daughter, one of the richest and most influential families of the Riverlands.”

         “All of this I know. In fact, I can recall vying for her hand once and winning it. This was then accompanied by your disapproval which led me to call off the engagement.”

         “Gwayne you were far too young and naïve for marriage, at the time. Your duty was to Oldtown.”

         “Yes, and it continues to be so. How is this now a priority? How is this now what you want?”

         Otto took a deep breath. “Blackstone is ill. When he first learned of his illness, he made it known to some of his closest advisors, that whomever his eldest should marry, would inherit Blackstone castle, along with whatever land and fortune is left to his name. Of course, he’d leave for his other daughters and whatever descendants they produced.”

         “So, that’s the interest? The inheritance?” Gwayne stared at Otto.

         “Gwayne, do you understand the influence of the Blackstones in the Riverlands? Do you know what a marriage between our houses could bring?”

         “Why now, father? Why not let me go through with it when we were already betrothed?”

         “As I already said, Oldtown was the priority. Besides, Blackstone did not decide his intentions with his inheritance until after he learned he was ill.”

         “Did he tell you all this?”

         “No. But I have a direct source who confirmed it all.”

         Gwayne sighed. “Even if I wanted to, Lord Blackstone made it clear he wanted no business with me after what I did.”

         “Leave Blackstone, to me. Focus on Lady Y/N and winning her favor.”

         “This attempt will surely be fruitless.”

         Otto placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Trust me, we will get this union.”

         “Even if Blackstone gave us his approval, what of Lady Y/N? She surely still hates me. She will never go for the marriage.”

         “Then you charm her, pursue her. Show her you want this marriage.”

         “I respect your optimism, father. But for once, I do not see how we will be successful in this endeavor.”

         “Make sure to win her favor. The rest will come about.”

         Gwayne nodded. “Fine.”

         “We leave in the evening.”

         “The evening?”

         “The sooner we meet with Blackstone, the better our advantage.”

         “Did he not just announce this?”

         “Sufficient time has passed for word to go around. Coincidently, the Prince of Dorne is traveling through land to his home. But it is well known he is in search of a wife. If he has heard about this, there is a high chance he will pay Blackstone a visit.”

         Gwayne cleared his throat. “Would leaving at dawn not be better?”

         “If we are to prevent the Prince of Dorne from persuading Blackstone, we would leave now. But being as I rushed here, I shall have a meal, and we will gather our things to leave this evening.”

         “As you wish,” Gwayne nodded.

Chapter 2 - Looking Ahead