#also hi i'm very behind on reading as i've been taking a break but will hopefully be back next week!!
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toomanytookas ¡ 30 days ago
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🎶 username song game 🎶
This is so fun, @guiltyasdave ! Thank you for the tag. 💕 I had to find sooooooo many “o” songs ack 😂
T - Two - The Antlers O - Orange Juice - Noah Kahan O - On & On & On - Maggie Rogers
M - MSMSMSM - SOPHIE A - AWARDS SEASON - Bon Iver N - Naked in Manhattan - Chappell Roan Y - Your Hands are Cold - Jean-Yves Thibaudet and the English Chamber Orchestra [2005 P&P Marianelli soundtrack my beloved]
T - The Chicken - Bo Burnham O - On a Good Day - Joanna Newsom O - Old Coat - Peter, Paul & Mary K - Kyoto - Phoebe Bridgers A - Animal Tracks - Mountain Man S - Shrike - Hozier
No pressure, especially if you’ve got a longer username, but if you'd like to, I'd love to see what you come up with (also if you see this, consider yourself tagged <3)! Apologies if you've done it already, but also if you have please tag me! I wanna see!
@schnarfer @secretelephanttattoo [lol el I’m sorry but also I’d be really curious to see all of your ‘t’ songs 😂] @pascalssbabyy @rebel-held @sp00kymulderr [also sorry gideon, maybe pretend they’re o’s? 🤭]
@jessthebaker @katareyoudrilling @almostfoxglove @luxurychristmaspudding @burntheedges
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reiderwriter ¡ 7 months ago
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hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)
A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚
Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.
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Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 
“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 
“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 
“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 
“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 
The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 
He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 
“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 
“Turn around.” 
You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 
You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 
“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”
“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”
“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 
Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 
His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 
With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 
“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 
Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 
The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.
“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 
“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 
“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 
“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 
“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”
“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”
The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 
“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 
“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 
“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 
The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 
xxxxx 
A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 
You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 
You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 
“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 
Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 
The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 
A girl could dream. 
“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 
Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 
“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.
“What? Why?” 
“I don't hit women.” 
“And I do? Emily, wha-” 
But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 
Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 
“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 
“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 
“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 
He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 
“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 
You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 
You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 
There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.
“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”
He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 
“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 
“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 
He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 
“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 
“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 
He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 
“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 
You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 
He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 
“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 
“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 
“Y/N, put it down.” 
“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 
“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 
His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 
“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 
“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”
It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 
You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 
Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 
“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 
You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 
“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”
You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 
“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 
His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 
“I can tell.” 
If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 
“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 
He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 
“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 
His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 
Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 
A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 
“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 
“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 
He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 
“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 
The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 
The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 
You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  
Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 
“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 
The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 
“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 
You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 
“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 
“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 
Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 
You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 
As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 
“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 
Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 
But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 
“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 
“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 
The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 
“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 
“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 
Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 
His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 
“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 
“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck
“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 
Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 
“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 
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megwritesriddles ¡ 2 months ago
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Redhanded ༊*·˚
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18+ MDNI !!!
Pairing: Tom Riddle x F! Reader / You
Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 5 - Spanking. Reader is caught in the restricted section after curfew by none other than Head Boy Tom Riddle, notorious for his harsh punishments. But he has something else in mind, just for her.
Tags: Spanking, Impact play, Fingering, Dubious consent, Abuse of power, Head boy Riddle, Punishment, Under-negotiated kink, Degradation, Praise kink, Spit kink, Dom!Riddle, Sub!Reader, Teasing, Kinda fluffy right at the end.
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!
Word count: 2.8k
Read it on ao3! | Masterlist
Authors note: I went with my original idea for the plot of this one, meaning I'm still not sure what the plot for blackmail (day 15, also tom) will be!! I've had a few suggestions but I'm still open to more, send 'em in if you have them!! I personally found this one very hot, fingers crossed you agree!! Hope you like it mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
The night felt darker than usual, the moon and stars covered by a thick blanket of clouds. An early October chill ran throughout the castle, nothing unbearable, just enough to make you shiver periodically. Your fingers traced the spines of various old tomes, your lips pursed as you searched intently. In an attempt to counter the oppressive darkness, you squint to try and read the titles. Call it academic curiosity, that had led you into the restricted section in the middle of the night, but there might have been a little more than that behind it. You rounded the end of a row of bookshelves, continuing your search on the other side. You couldn’t seem to find what you were looking for, but it had to be here, it seemed incredibly unlikely that it would have been taken out by another student. Passes to the restricted section were handed out incredibly scarcely, and permission to borrow a book, to take it elsewhere in the castle where a younger student might come across it, was even more rare. You were lucky, the enchanted rope guarding the section didn’t have a concept of time, which they really should have realised by now. Using the pass that Slughorn had given you for your extra credit project you were able to get in semi-legitimately. Sure, you weren’t supposed to be here after curfew, but at least you did technically have permission to be here, just some other time. 
Several other books pique your interest as you search, but you still can’t find exactly the book you came for. You sigh quietly in frustration, watching the puff of air that comes from your mouth displace some dust on the shelf in front of you, rattling a nearby cobweb. Drumming your fingers against the dusty shelf and staring out of the filthy window, you try to think if you’ve missed anything. You’ve searched every related section up and down, even checking the small fiction section for the author’s name, just in case it was somehow incorrectly categorised, then you had tried the history section, wondering if the book was so old that it had been put there. No such luck, of course. What bothered you the most was the lack of any noticeable gaps anywhere in the shelves, suggesting that it shouldn’t be missing either. Had they removed it from the library? Why would they have? You’d come across several books that were more controversial or more out of date during your search. Why would they–?
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the sudden voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Your blood runs cold, your whole body tenses painfully and you let out a little squeak. You whip around to find the owner of the voice, glaring. Your heart pounds in your chest.
“Are you trying to kill me?” you hiss, too high on adrenaline to assess if this was a good move. The owner of the voice, Tom Riddle, smirks ever so slightly at that before his face turns neutral again.
“My apologies, but you are breaking the rules quite callously, Miss,” he answers smoothly. He stands tall, hands clasped neatly behind his back, looking nothing short of unamused. In the dim lighting, he almost looks black and white, his Head Boy badge glinting on his chest. You frown at him.
“I’m allowed to be here,” you answer stupidly, because, no, you’re not actually and he knows it too. He raises a brow.
“You are, are you?” the corners of his lips twitch up. “And who, pray tell, gave you this permission?” he taunts, taking a measured step toward you. With a sigh, you present the permission slip from Slughorn to him. His hand comes from behind his back to take it from you, his fingers long and elegant. He inspects the pass. “There’s no stipulation here about nighttime visits,” he hums.
“Perhaps I misread,” you laugh anxiously. He gives you a look, telling you he isn’t buying this.
“We both know you’re too intelligent for that,” he drawls. You can’t help the slight smile that flashes over your face at the acknowledgement of your intelligence. He smiles too, but his smile feels predatory. The two of you don’t know each other well, never sharing classes or friendship circles. You’re peripherally aware of one another, having been in the same year group for the last seven years. Of course, these days, you’re more aware of him through his position as Head Boy. His patrols, his occasional speeches at dinners and his overall use as an example by many professors made it impossible to only be vaguely aware of him anymore. It flattered you slightly to realise he knew anything about you at all since he likely would have had to seek this information out on purpose. He hands you the slip back. “I’ll have to come to Slughorn about getting that slip taken from you, but as it is, I don’t have the authority to take it from you without his permission,” he talks slowly, you can tell he seems annoyed that he can not strip you of these privileges. “In the meantime, I can dish out punishment for being out after curfew, unless you have another permission slip you’d like to produce,”
“No,” you sigh and he smiles, nodding.
“Good girl,” he purrs. You glare at him for his condescending language, but neither of you misses the blush that blossoms on your cheeks. He just smiles. “Now, punishments…” he taps his chin mockingly. “Any suggestions?” you roll your eyes. Riddle was known among the student body for being fairly harsh in his punishments for those he didn’t wish to keep friendly with, usually only for networking reasons. You’d never been caught misbehaving by him before, you didn’t tend to misbehave much at all, just your luck that the one time you do, it’s him who catches you. You doubted strongly that he considered you a friend, and you didn’t have much to offer in the way of connections. You just purse your lips in annoyance, waiting for him to reveal how many hours you’d be doing in detention. He looks you up and down for a moment. “Do you like the idea of detention?” he asks, his voice low.
“No, obviously not,” you scoff. He inches closer. 
“What if I came up with an alternative punishment? A special one just for you…” He whispers, towering above you, you feel his breath fanning over your forehead. You wish you didn’t have to give him the satisfaction of tipping your head back to meet his eyes. You scrutinise him for a moment, taking in his subtle smirk. 
“Like what?”
“So many questions,” he tuts. “Yes or no? You can have your ten hours of detention if you really like,” he grins. Ten hours? That was just ridiculous, but you knew he wasn’t bluffing. He would find a way to write you up for that many hours if he really wanted to. You knew it was a trap, even as you walked right in.
“Yes, fine, alternative punishment,” you sigh in defeat. He takes ahold of one of your wrists, making you jolt slightly. He’s dragging you out of the library before your brain can catch up. He strides confidently through the halls, not a care in the world about being caught leading you around for whatever nefarious purposes he had. You discern after a little while that you’re being led to the Head’s dormitories. “Where are we going?” you try, but he ignores you, pulling you up to the portrait. He whispers something to it, too quiet for you to hear, and the portrait swings open. You don’t have much time to register your unfamiliar surroundings before he’s yanking you through the small common room down a hall and then into what you can only imagine is his bedroom. It’s quite large, especially for only one person. It’s about the size of the dorm that you have to share between five, with it’s own attached bathroom. You take a moment to take the room in when he lets go of your wrist, sitting himself on the edge of his bed and loosening his tie. There should have been loud alarm bells ringing in your mind, your feet should have been carrying you out of there, but your eyes are glued in awe on the crest carved into the wood of his door instead.
“Over my knee,” he commands lowly, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“What?!” you gawk at him in shock. He grins.
“Over my knee, darling,” he repeats smoothly, eyes dark. You shake your head, your mouth opening and shutting in bewilderment. “Don’t make me drag you over here, this will be humiliating enough for you,”
“What- what about the Head Girl?” you squeak lamely, glancing back at the door. You feel a little tingle in your abdomen as his dark eyes remained fixed on you, promising to carry out this punishment.
“Hospital wing,” he answers simply, rubbing his thigh. You gawp again and he rolls his eyes. “Not my doing, honestly darling, what do you think I am?” he scoffs, although there's a discomforting glint in his eye. “Now, come here,” he growls. You don’t understand why you comply, walking over to him and hesitating before lowering yourself down over his thighs. You flush deeply at the realisation of what’s happening. He pushes your hair to the side, tilting your head so you’re looking up at him. “Aren’t you a good girl?” he coos, mockingly touching your overheated cheek. Your eyes are wide and worried, his thumb rubs your cheek just under your eye. “It’ll be over before you know it, darling,” His hand moves, wrapping around the back of your thigh, his thumb brushing the underside of your rear. You gasp. He chuckles, letting your head fall back down, your forehead hitting the mattress. He flips up your skirt and you squirm, blushing brightly. His fingertip traces the edge of your plain cotton underwear, light pink. “Cute, very like you,” he hums. You grumble shyly. His hand smooths over the swell of your ass, making you shiver. His other arm wraps around your shoulders to secure you. “Let’s do fifteen, shall we?” he doesn’t wait for an answer.
His hand collides with your rear with a loud smack, jolting you forward slightly. You whimper at the pain but find oddly that there’s a sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach, a pleasant incessant feeling as he delivers a couple more smacks. He pauses for a moment, rubbing his hand gently over you, feeling the warmth that blooms where he’s hit, gripping greedily at your flesh. You find yourself moaning softly. Thwack, thwack, thwack. He delivers a few more. With each one, the feeling is more pleasant, your skin tingling under his ministrations. He takes a moment, gently rubbing up and down your back, almost like he’s soothing you. He feels you rising and falling with your sharp breaths under his hand. He administers a few more spanks again, a little harder now, but you don’t mind much. You’re mortified at how much you’re liking this. This should be painful and humiliating, and it is, yet you’re loving it. His hand rests on your backside lightly for a moment and find yourself keening and pushing yourself back into his hand. He laughs in disbelief.
“Oh darling, you’re liking this aren’t you?” he taunts, smacking you once more. He shifts slightly and then chuckles deeper, noticing a dark wet patch on your underwear. “You’re really liking this,” his hand settles between your cheeks, rubbing at your clothed heat. You whimper and arch your back. “You’re soaking darling,” he coos. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re a whimpering mess,” he moves his hand up to pull down your underwear, it peels slowly away from your core, the cool air hitting your wetness and making you shiver. He uses both hands to grip you, spreading you gently open for his eyes. You whine and grip the sheets. “Naughty girl…” he purrs, watching as you twitch. “So needy,” he spits onto your cunt, making you shiver as the cool spit trickles down you. “I always had a feeling you’d like this, but darling, I could have never guessed what dirty girl you are,” you moan at his words, hating how true they are. His fingertip comes to gently tease against your folds. You push back against him desperately. He withdraws his hand and gives you another firm smack as a punishment. “Needy little whore can’t even wait a second, can she?” he chastises, gripping the flesh of your ass harshly. You sob in desperation, you’ve never felt so needy in your life. You’re willing to beg. You’ve never felt like this before.
“Please, please, need your fingers,” you pant like you’re in heat. For a moment, nothing happens, and you let out another sob. But then, like mercy from God, his middle finger laves through your folds once more. It simply strokes up and down for a little while, focusing fleetingly on your sensitive nub before tracing around your entrance, making you whimper desperately. After he’s satisfied that you’re about to tear up with desperation, he slowly eases his finger in. You mewl, arching your back, your entire face flushed. He drags the tip of his finger against your inner walls, mapping you out, getting to know all your favourite spots. His finger pumps slowly in and out, making soft squelches. He breathes raggedly above moving his free hand to press against your burning cheek, cupping your chin gently. You look up at him, your eyes glazed over with need and he looks pleased. 
“You’re beautiful, naughty girl,” he exhales, carefully pressing his ring finger into you as well, starting to pump a bit faster, watching as your lips part with soft wanton noises. “You’ve taken your punishment so well,” he soothes, the heel of his palm smacking against you as he fucks you on his fingers. You whine in response, eyes locked on his. The sight of him looking at you so lustfully drives you crazy, bringing your orgasm closer by the second. He rubs his thumb against your lips as you jolt back and forth with the force of his thrusts. He presses the pad of it against your bottom lip and you take the cue, drawing him into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his thumb, moaning desperately around it. “Perfect obedient little slut,” he growls, his fingers moving faster inside you. Slick noises fill the room along with your muffled moans. Your eyes roll back. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Give in to me,”
“Tom!” you gasp around his thumb, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, white-hot heat exploding in your belly. You pulse around his fingers and he grins, working you through it slowly. Your eyes slip shut and you lean heavily against his hand that cups your cheek, struggling for breath. He withdraws his fingers slowly, making you whine softly. He turns you over slightly, pressing his slick fingers into your mouth. You flush, accepting them onto your tongue and tasting yourself, looking up at him with big vulnerable eyes. He withdraws his fingers, pressing them into his own mouth, sucking them clean with a pop, smirking down at you. The shame is washing over you as you lie there, realising what you’ve done, how you’ve acted. You feel mortified, but Riddle is manoeuvring you to sit on his lap, bringing his lips to yours. Your rear stings as you settle onto his lap, but he kisses you affectionately, exchanging the taste of you between your mouths. 
“You’ll stay here tonight, you’re bound to get caught if you head out at this hour,” he mumbles between kisses. You pull back, tilting your head questioningly. “You don’t want another punishment, do you, naughty girl?” he teases, his hands settling onto your waist. “Other people’s punishments may not be as fun as mine,” you blush and scoff a small laugh, looking down at the ground. He brushes his knuckle against your still-flushed cheek. “Well… Did my punishment work? Are you going to be breaking the rules again?” he teases, pulling you down to lie on the bed with him. You’re surprised by this softer side of him, you’d caught a few glimpses of it as he’d been pleasuring you, but you’ve never seen him like this before. It’s like he likes you, and he never likes anyone.
“Only if I know it’ll be you catching me,” you whisper shyly, unsure how he’ll react. He just chuckles, pulling you into his embrace.
“Oh, I will make sure no one else ever catches you again, darling,”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
xoxoxo
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lcriedlastnight ¡ 5 months ago
Note
Y/n agrees to be Oscar’s fake date to a wedding, but they end up actually getting together by the end of it
fake dating is the best trope i don't even care what you say. i'm not going to give it justice but i'll try my best, tysm anon. :)
tw: fem!reader, swears, pining and stupid oscar, lmk if you want me to add anything! not proof read cuz im lazy!
w/c: 2.5k
there was very little rules to liking someone, but there was one you were sure of it was to not agree to fake date in order to convince the boy you like's family that you are dating. you have read enough fake dating books to know how it goes down, although in the end they always get together, you are not known to have that kind of luck.
when oscar asked (more like begged) you to accompany him to a family wedding as his fake date, you barely hesitated. he didn't even get time to explain why you had to pretend to date him before you were jumping at the chance. it was embarrassing, really. oscar had ended up explaining that his family kept trying to set him up with his girl he dated back in australia but it hadn't worked out between them, she had ended up cheating on him with his friend. so to get back at them and her, he decided to invite you along to get his family off his back and to let her know that he was not interested because as his family had put it, she was more than up for reconnecting. oscar could seriously not think of anything worse.
it was one of those weddings that had an overnight stay attached because it was way easier than getting everyone to and from the venue.
"can you help me with my tie?" oscar asks. he was nervous, that much you could tell. you would be nervous too if you had convince a full wedding of people that you were dating someone you weren't. you on the other hand, you were buzzing with excitement. you were getting a glimpse into what it would be like to date the boy you had been harbouring a crush on since he had joined f1 last year. you knew it would break you by tomorrow by that was future you's problem. for now you were going to enjoy 'pretending' to be in love with oscar.
you spin around after you finish making sure you liked how you looked to face oscar. oscar wasn't tall but he was taller than you. the top of your head came to rest just under his chin as you carefully tie his tie for him. the boy was so fucking sweet, having asked for a picture of your dress so he could get a tie to match and it's like he made the tie from the same fabric the dress was made from. it was a perfect match,
"well look at you! don't you scrub up well, oscar!" you say after straightening his tie and taking a step back from him to get a good look at him. if you were really dating this would be the part where you jumped his bones. but you were not dating so you grin up at him and he gives you a nervous smile back.
"don't be nervous. i've been told i'm a great fake girlfriend." you joke with oscar as you spray some of your favourite perfume, grab your bag and head towards your hotel door, hearing oscar follow behind you.
"you've done this before?" oscar asks surprised as the door closes behind you and you walk along the corridor to the elevator.
"christ, you really are nervous, you aren't picking up any of my jokes." you say, your hand finding his as you both step into the elevator. you look up at him to make sure he's alright with you holding his hand. oscar's hand just squeezes yours in confirmation.
once you arrive you are greeted by a pair of doormen that seem to recognise oscar. he's greeted with a "hey, mate!" and "oscar!". it seems he's very popular within this wedding. or maybe it was because he was a formula one driver. you forget that a lot.
oscar greets them both of a couple of those hugs that men do. you watch along, feeling a little awkward but also happy to see oscar with people he's clearly comfortable with. it makes you smile.
"and who's this pretty girl?" one of the men asks and oscar is instantly back by your side. a protective hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side a little. "this is my girlfriend." he introduces you, although you don't think he needs to because his actions spoke a thousand words. you try not to get too excited at his touch, you two had agreed to do anything that was needed to convince everyone you two were actually a couple, so you had to expect these touches.
the two men give their congratulations but you can tell they are trying their bests to not laugh at his protective nature. maybe oscar was better at acting than his nerves were making him out to be. they both and you glasses of champagne as they guide you to a room filled about halfway with people, chatting away. up ahead you can see rows of chairs and a gorgeous arch in front of a floor to ceiling window. it showcases the beautiful australian scenery behind it. you think it is a lovely place to get married. oscar hands you his champagne without a word from you. "champagne was only for podiums" rang in your mind, recalling the time oscar had told you that. most of your thoughts were oscar based.
oscar spots his family ahead and links your hands again, of course you recognise his mum, she was an icon in your eyes and you admired her, even though when you told oscar this he thought you were joking. she was standing with his dad, chris as they chatted away. with the way oscar had been talking about them this past week, with the whole ex-girlfriend situation, you would think they were devil spawn. to you, they looked lovely and you were itching to meet them. oscar had told you his sisters were not able to make it which made you sad as you had met before and you really liked them.
"oscar!" nicole calls over, catching the attention of a few other people around but they go back to their own conversations soon enough. you stand off to the side as oscar reunites with his mother and father. nicole's eyes land on you.
"well you must be the famous girlfriend we've heard so much about then." she praises you as she brings you in for a hug too. it is oscar's turn to stand off at the side and watch. "you look stunning." she tells you, which has you grinning.
the two most important people to oscar stare back at you as you suddenly feel shy. just as oscar thinks he is going to have to jump in for you, you say "thank you, mrs piastri. i am, i hope he hasn't said anything embarrassing about me.". you smile at her. oscar smiles at you.
"no, none of that love, you call me nicole and him chris." she signals to her husband whose holding a champagne flute. chris smiles at you too.
"sorry, nicole." you say but she waves you off. oscar comes to stand next to you, arm snaking back around your waist again. it feels so right, like he has been doing it for years.
"oscar hasn't shut up about you! when he finally told us you had gotten together i was over the moon. i've been desperate to meet you. osc made you sound lovely." the woman rants to you, she's clearly a little tipsy but it makes you like her more.
you beam at hearing this, eyes flitting to look at oscar who seems embarrassed. he has probably hyped you up so much so you seem better than that ex he was on about.
"i hope i'm as lovely as he's made me out to be." you are shy, oscar has never seen you shy. it was cute.
before nicole can say much more a couple, who you later find out are friends with the couple getting married, make their way to you with what seems to be their daughter. she looks about you and oscar's age.
nicole greets them happily, alongside chris. oscar whispers in your ear "this is the girl and her family."
you look up at him as he looks at you nervous. in your mind, it was game time. you shift slightly while the others say their 'hello's', moving oscar's hand from your waist to in front of you. you wrap both of yours arm his one arm, clutching it to your chest, cheek resting on his bicep. oscar grins at your rearrangement. just before they turn to you and pull oscar down, silently telling him to whisper in your ear, you pray he gets the message.
he somehow does as he's whispering all about car strategies, 'what a weirdo' you think to yourself with a smile graces your features. oscar's hand comes up to hold your jaw as he whispers to you, it makes you feel flushed.
"i'm sure you remember oscar. this is his girlfriend." nicole introduces you too. well re-introduces her and oscar.
the girl glares at you as oscar moves away to stand straight and say 'hello' to the couple and the girl, who introduces herself as molly.
as everyone gets talking about the soon-to-be-wed couple, the conversation topic changes to you and oscar.
"how long have you two been dating, then?" molly asks. if you had to say which of the people you were talking to at the moment didn't believe you and oscar, it would be molly. she would cause trouble tonight for sure.
"two months." you both say unison. you smile in amusement while oscar squeezes the hand he had entwined with yours. nicole and molly's mother laughs at the two of you. chris smiles at you.
"so not that long then?" molly comments. before you can react they are asking everyone to take a seat on the respective sides as the ceremony was about to start.
oscar guides you to the seats with one hand on your back. it must be made of fire though because your back feels like sparks are shooting through it. molly's father has the greatest of the kids sitting with each other so oscar ends up in the middle of you and molly. you are on the aisle seat.
oscar is holding your hand so tight, you know he is nervous.
"you're doing great. they believe us. it's alright." you whisper in his ear to calm him down, your free hand resting on his shoulder. oscar smiles and nods at you. your words seeming to have the desired effect.
the ceremony is beautiful and you watch on in awe as the couple seal their vows with a kiss. you are too focused on watching the brides that you don't notice oscar staring at you. it's probably for the better seeing as you probably would have freaked out.
once the ceremony is over you are moved through to an extravagant dining hall, for one of the best meals you have ever had in your life. you have a glass of wine as you converse with oscar's parents and the others assigned to your table. you had not stopped smiling. you were all then crowded to the room where the reception would take place.
you all find a table to sit at, including molly's family. as the night went on, the more the drinks poured. oscar had barely had anything to drink. you had drank a little more but you were nothing more than tipsy. spending the whole day with you had made oscar see you in a different light. you noticed all the small things about you: the way your nose scrunches up when you really laugh, the way your voice gets higher when you talk about the things you are passionate in, the way you talk with your hands when you are explaining a story you yourself would find difficult to follow if you were the one listening. oscar may have actually fell for you today, and he was not really complaining.
after you return from the bar with another round of drinks you hear molly talking to nicole.
"they just don't seem real to me. i mean it was so last minute and when does he tell you? as soon as you bring up me. it's suspicious, nicole that's all i'm saying." molly says, trying to convince oscar's mum of the authenticity of your relationship. even though you knew it was fake you had to pretend oscar was in love with you. you knew just how to do it. you return to the table like you had not even heard a word and wait for oscar to come back from the bathroom with his dad.
a slow song comes on and the dj encourages all couples to come up and slow dance, this is all falling in line with your plan. before you can even suggest you and oscar go up to dance, nicole is pulling you both to the dance floor with her and chris.
you rest your arms on oscar's shoulders as his lay around your waist and link at the small of your back. there is some distance between you but that would need to change for you to execute your plan of getting molly to shut the fuck up.
"molly seems to be having fun." oscar smiles at you, his words are cheeky and you can see the alcohol in his eyes. it makes you laugh as you nod.
"i think we've been pretty successful with this whole thing." he then says, his thumb starting to run across your back, the soft touch making you weak in the knees.
you sigh. "i hear molly trying to convince your mum that we were faking." you tell him. you see the way his face screws up in annoyance.
"i was thinking something.." you trail off, scared he would not agree.
"what?" he questions.
"we should kiss so that everyone knows we are real. i mean we've been here for hours and not kissed once. not even like forehead kisses-" your cut off as oscar does exactly that. a light, lingering kiss pressed against the centre of your forehead before he is pulling away, cheesy smile cemented on his face. thank god for the dull lights and makeup or else oscar would see how hard you were blushing right now.
"right- so, yeah?" you say, tripping over your words as you think about his lips on your skin.
"if you wanted me to kiss you then you should've just asked, honey." oscar says teasingly hand coming up to sprawl across your jaw as he leans down.
the kiss lifts you off the ground and throws you around, oscar kisses you like you are special goods, like you are fragile and he would not dare to think about shattering you. his tongue swipes at your lips and of course you let him, it is the boy you have loved for a whole year. you both realise that the kiss is much more than driving the fake dating point home. you were finally letting oscar know how much you adored him and he was just discovering the extent of his feelings for you.
nicole watches on before saying to her husband. "she's good for him." he replies, "they're good for each other."
668 notes ¡ View notes
latenightdaydreams ¡ 5 months ago
Note
Hello, first I wanted to say that I love your writing, I read everything you posted and I'm always on your page, forgive me if my writing is bad because English is not my language, I don't know if requests for fanfics are made here, but I wanted to ask you to write something about König, he is a very special character to me I've seen something like könig viking and könig werewolf on your profile, really strange that I want a mix of the two?😂 I've really been thinking about this but I wanted a little more passionate könig because I'm very needy and silly🥺 I will be happy to receive your answer🫶🏻
Okay, that's a hot idea😮‍💨 Thank you so much for the love💗
Viking!Werewolf!KĂśnig x Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 2
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, mention of blood and violence, p in v, oral, knotty, breeding
2.2k word count
🐺
.
.
No one knows exactly when the folklore began, but there has always been talk about a creature they call ‘The Wolf of the North’ said to be a Viking warrior. A man that stands at 9-feet tall, covered in thick black hair with a face like a wolf. He’s said to have blue eyes as pale as ice. With the strength of one hundred men, there are stories of him destroying villages by himself.
Even though the stories are old and popular, it’s not something that you’ve ever believed. A creature that is half wolf and half man defies the laws of nature; therefore, there is nothing to fear. The mountains surrounding you protect your village, so Vikings have rarely traveled here.
Today is the day that all changed. As you sit in your home, patching clothing by candlelight, when you hear an earth-shattering howl travel though the village. Your eyes snap to your husband, Bjorn. There is a slight panic in his eyes. His mind goes to the thought of it possibly being the infamous wolf man. He stands and walks to the front door.
“Stay here.”
Bjorn opens the door, stepping out to see other villagers also outside, questioning where that sound was coming from. There is a strange tension in the air that everyone can feel. Nature has gone quiet, and the air has grown thick. You stand and walk to the doorway to see what is going on. Bjorn turns to you with a worried face. As he opens his mouth to speak, the sound of a horn cuts him off being blown.
In that moment, panic rushed through everyone’s bodies. Vikings, they’ve arrived. Bjorn turns quickly, his hand grabbing yours and pulling you inside. His hands caress your face, hands shaking ever so slightly. He places a kiss on your lips, just in case.
“What are we going to do?”
“I—”
Another deafening howl vibrates through the walls of your home. A sharp scream echoing through the village triggers a widespread panic. The sound of neighbors fleeing their homes in panic erupts. The Vikings have begun their assault on the village.
KĂśnig stands at his full height over the body of a man he just mauled. Blood soaking the fur on his face and claws. His eyes gaze around at the destruction he and his men have brought to this once pleasant village. He takes a deep breath, sniffing the surrounding air. There is a scent that lingers, attracting him. His pupils widen, feeling a rush of excitement come over his body. A fertile mate is nearby. Abandoning his men, he searches for you.
Bjorn holds your hand, running with you to a barn that is further out in the woods. He hopes that they simply overlook it since it’s so far away from the village. There is an unsettling feeling in your stomach, as if you’re being chased. You look behind you to see nothing in the darkness. The trees covering you both blocks out any moonlight from breaking through.
Finally, the barn comes into view. You both rush inside, gently closing the door behind the two of you. As you both search for places to hide, Bjorn grabs you by your waist, lifting you behind stacks of hay. He places a kiss on your forehead before turning and hiding behind piles of chopped wood.
The air is still as you both listen to the sounds of the neighbors being slaughtered. Tears flow from your eyes as you feel a heavy guilt in your heart. You begin to pray to your god for safety and peace, praying that some might survive. The thought of returning to the village is terrifying, what will it look like? Who will remain? What of the children?
König stalks the trail of your scent, leading him to your empty home first. He walks inside, taking a deep pleased breath. The scent of you is heavy in the air here. As he continues to follow the trail, he leaves in the direction of the woods. He walks through the darkness with his arousal growing with each step. You’re closer. Very close.
Your tears stop once you hear footsteps outside of the barn. As you try to calm your breathing, you place a hand over your mouth to help silence yourself. There are a few moments that pass with no other sounds. Maybe it was just a wild animal passing by? Or simply you’re just hallucinating from the high stress of the situation?
As you begin to relax, the sound of the barn doors swings open with great force. You close your eyes, trying your best to be still. Heavy footsteps enter the barn, a low growl can be heard as if this is a creature, not a human. Instantly, your mind rushes to the howls you heard earlier. Did the Vikings bring a wolf?
From where BjĂśrn is sitting, he can see slightly through gaps in the wood. He watches as the giant, 9-foot-tall creature approaches your hiding spot. Deep inside he knows that he should jump out, distract the creature from hurting you; yet, he remains frozen in place. Fear completely consumes him. As he sits frozen, he watches the creature sniff the air before beginning to tear through the hay with his claws.
Your loud scream fills the space, you scramble back trying to get away from whatever stands on the other side. Soon, you are face to face with the creature. Icy blue eyes gaze down at you, looking over your body in a plain beige dress. A giant man, with features of a wolf. It’s the Wolf of the North. He’s real.
“Please, don’t hurt me!” You cry out as the creature continues to study you.
König sees you finally, and you’re beautiful. Being face to face with you makes your scent become overwhelming. You’re ovulating, ready to accept seed. He reaches out a hand for you to take, but you’re too overwhelmed with terror to realize that he is not going to hurt you.
“Come…here…” König speaks, his voice incredibly raspy as he looks at you.
The fact it spoke made you freeze. The fear turned to curiosity. Why hasn’t he killed you yet? Your eyes look at his massive clawed hand that is extended to you. The blood soaking his fur clean from the little bit of moonlight shining in.
“I won’t…hurt you.” König says as he sniffs your scent more.
You stand to your feet, putting your hand in his. KĂśnig looks at your small hand trembling in his before looking back into your eyes. With his other arm he grabs you by your waist, pulling you from your hiding spot. He places you back on your feet before him.
“König.” He says his name in almost a whisper.
“Y/n…” You reply confused by his gentle behavior with you.
König leans in and sniffs your neck, taking in a deep breath. A growl leaves his lips, causing you to jump. His arm tightens around your waist so you can’t run away. He can’t let you go now that he’s found you.
“Mate.” König says as he leans back to look into your eyes.
A look of pure confusion takes over your face. Did he just call you a mate? You look around. Why hasn’t Bjorn come out to your rescue? You’re snapped out of your thoughts once König’s large hand drops down to your ass, squeezing it in a firm grasp.
“You’re scent…so sweet. Fertile.”
KĂśnig grabs the fabric of your dress, just over your breasts, and tears it as if it were paper. He rips it enough to expose your perfectly shaped breasts. The cold air hitting your nipples causes them to harden instantly.
Bjorn watches as this all unfolds before him. He watches as König leans down, licking your nipples as if he is savoring the feel of your body. His massive hands groping you as he groans with excitement. It’s hard to ignore his cock becoming erect. Knowing König said y/n is fertile, he knows what he’s about to witness. While he wants to look away, he can’t seem to.
You suppress moans as he licks your nipples. The sound of fabric tearing echoes as he rips into the fabric covering your rear. KĂśnig scopes you up in his arms and lays you down on the barns floor, resting you on your stomach. On all fours he approaches you, his hands tearing more of your dress until the skirts torn off.
König presses his face between your legs. His cold wet nose causes a weird sensation to travel throughout your body. As he smells your pussy, he sticks his long tongue out, pressing into your cunt. He wiggles his tongue, tasting you for the first time. You let out a surprisingly loud moan. This was a new sensation you’ve never felt before. Your hands grasp at the dirt in front of you as your legs tense.
Bjorn sees König’s massive body dwarfing yours. His mouth opens to be able to fit his whole tongue into your cunt. The sounds you’re making are sounds he’s never heard from you before. The way you thrash and squirm…as if you’re thoroughly enjoying this. He tries to ignore his own cock hardening in his trousers.
KĂśnig pulls back with the taste of you on his tongue and your scent smeared on his nose. He lifts your hips up into the air with both hands. You get up on all fours and look back at KĂśnig. His eyes are glued to your glistening cunt as he approaches you.
His massive body looming over yours as you wait for what’s coming next. The visual of your smaller body under König’s terrifyingly massive body mounting yours was erotic to watch. Bjorn can’t look away as König lines himself up with your entrance. His hips slowly bucking forward causing your head to drop. His cock just as monstrous as the rest of him, he knows it’s stretching your tight pussy to the brink.
König pants loudly as he begins to buck into you at a rapid pace. He gave you no time to adjust, his need for you is too great. Your scent is the first scent he has ever smelled that brings the want to breed. His mind isn’t focused on your pleasure, but more so making you the mother of his children.
Your fingers dig into the dirt as you moan pathetically. König’s name slips from your lips without much thought. His strong musk surrounds you as his heavy balls slap against your swollen clit. You try your best to maintain up as his rapid thrust begins to push you down.
KĂśnig notices you slipping so he pulls out, flipping you to your back. He grabs your legs, parting them and pushing them back slightly. You watch as his cock pressed back against your pussy, forcefully shoving himself back into your welcoming warmth.
You look up at him as he continues his wild bucking. König’s eyes glued to the motion of your breasts. He can feel your cunt flutter, occasionally clenching down. Your back arches, you close your eyes as you climax on his cock. Rapid burst of ecstasy consumes your whole being. You turn your head to the side, giving König what he wants.
KĂśnig leans forward, slowly sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. You let out a pained moan as his teeth break the skin. His thrust becomes more sporadic, losing himself as he feels the need to knot you now. Having you pinned down with his teeth in your neck, he slowly pushes forward more. His knot is nearly double the thickness of his cock struggles to enter your pussy that is already full.
“Oh my god!” You whimper as your body feels different pains and still the orgasmic high.
Finally, König becomes too impatient and pushes forward. His knot forces its way into you. A stinging pain radiates over every inch of your cunt. Your eyes wide with surprise. You can feel every throb of König’s cock as he cum deep inside of you.
König’s tongue softly teases your skin as he bites you to attempt to bring you pleasure so your body can relax. His tail wags slightly, he feels relaxed for the first time in a long time. He’s been aware of your husband in the corner this whole time; as he relaxes, he keeps his guard up just in case he tries to protect you now. You’re his now. He’s claimed you in front of the other man.
Bjorn is forced to sit there and watch as KĂśnig gently caresses your body as he waits for his knot to go down. The events in this room distracted him from the chaos that plagues his village. The sounds of screams have died off, assuming no one is left standing. There is a storm of emotions deep inside, but he is still not brave enough to face KĂśnig.
Once König is able to slip out from you, he removes his teeth from your neck. His eyes study your face, seeing the look of pleasure lingering. With one hand he caresses the side of your face. He couldn’t have been blessed with a more perfect mate.
“You’re mine… my mate.” König stands up, carrying your naked body in his arms and leaves the barn.
Part 2
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twstowo ¡ 2 months ago
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Oyo, um I read one of your fics and it was rlly good. I'm pretty sure it was one of the 'they end up another universe twst' fics. They're rlly juicy BTW
I was thinking like...what happened if otherverse bois met normalverse yuu and they actually start liking them? Sorta yandere-ish type stuff to the point where they don't wanna leave normalverse yuu? (Yes, I've been calling normal yuu 'normalverse' yuu bc it makes a bit of sense lmao)
Understandable if you're a bit uncomfy with this :)
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
♡︎This is quite an interesting idea! I had though about it once but since you asked now I'm really going to write it! Also I'm not the best with yandere themes so I hope this is good enough!
♡︎Includes: OB! Characters
♡︎Warning: Malleus's part made me kinda sad, IM SO SORRY MALLEUS LOVERS. Also all of them need therapy.
[AU Masterlist]
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NV - Normalverse (Thank you for the idea Anon!)
First things first, in general, I believe that they would understand that you aren’t the same person from their Universe, however, this wouldn’t excuse the fact that every time they see your face they are thrown back to your relationship back in their world, which to say the least is not the best.
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⋆⋅☆Riddle
There would be no doubt that he would dislike you intensely. Moreover, the fact that this Riddle would be even worse than the pre-overblot Riddle in the NV would put you in a difficult position.
The first time he spots you, he would be blinded by rage and probably try to behead you. Fortunately, Trey and Cater quickly save you, taking you as far away as possible from Tyrant Riddle.
He will do anything to find you, and he will have no tolerance for your actions. At the slightest inconvenience you cause, he will be right behind you, ready to tell you how much of an annoyance you are.
But you catch on to his game pretty quickly, so you counter him by being the very definition of perfection. You make sure not to break a single rule and set an example for everyone around you, and by the Sevens, that only makes him even angrier.
But is he really angry? He can’t deny that he feels slightly impressed. Among everyone else at this strange college, you are the only one who comes close to reaching the level of perfection he demands.
Slowly, he finds himself growing fonder of you. He starts thinking about bringing you back with him once he finds a way to return to his universe. You’d fit perfectly in the castle with him, and he’s certain his mother would have approved of you.
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⋆⋅☆Leona
When it comes to Leona, he is more annoyed with the NV version of you than anything else. After all, you were always pestering him about being lazy and irresponsible. He had been plotting to have you exiled once he took the throne by killing his brother.
So, the first time he spots you, he's ready to turn around and leave, not wanting to hear your nagging. But that doesn’t happen. You speak to him as if he were a normal person, with no harsh words, and even smile at him when you finish talking.
Is he seeing things? Why are you so different in this universe? And why is he enjoying this new kind of attention so much?
Yet, he remains rude, constantly sending glares your way. He firmly believes you're trying to trick him into something malicious.
Still, you bring him lunch and talk about your day. You are strangely kind, something he never thought he would experience, especially from you. You are the first person ever to treat him like this.
Slowly, something starts to shift inside him. Your attention becomes something he craves, and he starts becoming obsessed, to the point where he checks if you give the same treatment to others.
And if you do, he makes sure they are out of the picture the next time you look for them. He will ensure that you have only him to turn to, to talk about your day, and to give your full attention.
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⋆⋅☆Azul
OH NO! He’s had enough of your antics ruining his business! Azul puts up a sign with your face and a red cross over it in front of the Monster Lounge. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!
Floyd and Jade find this absolutely hilarious and watch as you stroll into the Monster Lounge without a care in the world. (You’re literally that meme: "This sign won’t stop me, because I can’t read.") They don’t even try to stop you, they’re far too entertained by the thought of seeing how this new Azul will react to the chaos.
Let’s just say that Azul quickly learns the hard way that you aren’t here to ruin his business. Instead, you seem determined to ruin his reputation by being overly affectionate and making him squirm with your sweet words in front of all his clients, no less.
He tries to distance himself, avoiding your gaze and setting boundaries, but you keep coming back. In that, you remind him of the version of you from his own universe.
And for some reason, he finds that persistence very attractive. He can’t deny that, before you decided to ruin his business, he used to have a slight crush on you back then.
But now, you aren’t trying to ruin his business. Quite the contrary, you’re a magnet for attention, constantly drawing more customers to the Mostro Lounge.
Slowly, Azul starts losing himself in this fantasy: you and him, together, expanding his business. But at a certain point, he realizes he’s thinking more about you than the money the two of you could make.
He becomes determined to keep you by his side, even if his business suffers because of it. If all it takes to have you is tarnishing a bit of his reputation, then he’s willing to do it.
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⋆⋅☆Jamil
By the Seven, he was already annoyed that Kalim was here, but you too? This was about to be the worst day of his life, two incredibly annoying people threatening to ruin his plans.
He keeps his distance, but when you spot him, he’s about to tell you to go find someone else to bother. Then, you say something completely unexpected: you’re actually annoyed by Kalim’s antics.
You? Annoyed? At Kalim?
He’s taken aback. In his universe, you and Kalim were inseparable friends, always together. But the you from this place is actually bothered by him? He doesn’t even need to know why you’re annoyed. Just the fact that someone finally agrees with him about Kalim makes him incredibly happy.
He enjoys it when you come to him with your frustrations. Whether you’re irritated by Kalim’s constant gifts or his endless parties in your honor, because you feel overwhelmed, Jamil is always there to listen. He savors your complaints, and he’s quick to add his own criticisms about Kalim, which only deepens your dislike for him.
As time goes on, you start finding comfort in Jamil’s presence. His understanding and validation make him seem like a refuge from the chaos that Kalim brings. You begin to rely on him more, and Jamil can’t help but enjoy how your dislike for Kalim boosts his own ego.
Jamil starts subtly shaping your view of Kalim. By reinforcing your negative feelings and positioning himself as your only true ally, he ensures that you depend on him more. He carefully creates situations where he appears better compared to Kalim, making himself seem like the perfect match for you.
Jamil feeds off your growing dislike for Kalim. Your negative feelings towards Kalim seem to boost his ego, and he finds himself loving your voice even more.
You deserve someone who truly understands you, and Jamil believes he’s that person. He’s confident that he’d be the perfect match for you.
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⋆⋅☆Vil
There you are, Neige’s number one fan. He doesn’t even look in your direction, you aren’t worth it. Shouldn’t you be with him, guarding him like the lapdog you are?
Vil has to admit that at least you seem more elegant here. You look more relaxed and gentle, but maybe you were always like that back then. Perhaps he was just too focused on Neige to notice you.
Or maybe this version of you from this universe is simply sweeter and kinder. Perhaps here, you don’t make Neige your whole identity and actually treat Vil like a person rather than just competition for Neige.
Vil is intrigued, he finds you interesting, even. There’s a charm to you that brings him comfort. When he learns that you’re not that close to Neige here, he finds himself feeling pleased. And when you tell him that you find him “oh so much more beautiful,” he realizes that you might not be so bad after all.
Then he becomes attentive to your habits, your likes and dislikes, he memorizes every time you express any small detail about yourself only to use these as a way to create more opportunities to be closer to you. He brings up things you’ve mentioned in passing, showing how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes. His compliments become more personal, always tied to something he knows you value.
He loves especially when you talk so sweetly about him, or when he overhears you telling others how beautiful you think he is.
So whenever you mention Neige in a good way he becomes jealous, you should be exclusively devoted to him, he should be the only thing that crosses your mind and he was to make sure you only see him as your number one option.
He’s determined to make you see him as your everything, and he’ll stop at nothing to ensure that you’re his, completely and utterly.
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⋆⋅☆Idia
(In here both Idia and Ortho from the AU get sent to the NV.)
Ah yes, the ruiner of fun, you.
Back in his world, he used to send his followers to pester you, hoping you'd leave him alone. But no matter what, you always managed to bounce back and ruin his mischievous plans. What was with you, always messing with the fun? If a person or two died, who would even care?
But this version of you seems so much more into the chaos. He watches as you join in Ace's dumb ideas or get excited when Ortho prepares to blast off half the school.
You actually seem like someone who would join in his schemes now, and he'd love to have some help.
Howver the idea of you laughing, scheming, or enjoying yourself with anyone else starts to eat away at him. He starts sabotaging your interactions with others, asking for Ortho’s help to keep Ace busy with other things, making sure you spend more time with him.
He starts sending Ortho on missions to monitor your every move, always keeping tabs on who you’re with and what you’re doing. If anyone tries to get too close to you, they mysteriously vanish from the scene, often without you even noticing.
Everything feels so perfect when the two of you are together, you don’t need anyone else just like he doesn’t need anyone else.
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⋆⋅☆Malleus
Poor Malleus had been treated badly by his crush back in his universe. You never answered the letters he sent, and he had heard that all the little trinkets and flowers were returned because you didn’t want any of them.
So when this version of you from this strange new place treats him with such devotion, such kindness, and accepts his small gifts, even inviting him to spend time with you, he can hardly believe what’s happening.
This was essentially a dream come true for him. He wonders if it had been you he sent all those letters to, whether you would have written him back with the same excitement.
Why, then, hadn’t this lovely and perfect version of you been the one in his universe? Why was he the one left unloved in his world?
He wants to take you with him. Surely, you love him, you wouldn’t be angry if he took you back to his castle. The two of you could finally do all the things he had dreamed about while gazing lovingly at the flowers he once sent you.
After all, why else would you shower him with such kindness? Why else would you invite him to spend time with you? You must love him too.
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cats-artbag ¡ 7 months ago
Text
SwapOut/Webcomic/Twitch PSA!
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Hi everyone 👋🏻 Zk here >< or Cats, for older followers
So I've been getting back into doing SwapOut again, but I would like to appeal to everyone who reads and loves the comic. Much love to all of you who's still sticking around 🙏🏻💙 But something has also always been bothering me throughout this journey.
As many of us know, we artists do these comics for free (especially fan comics), starting them out of love and taking a LOT of time and energy out of our lives to continue making them.
And it's amazing how many of you come from translations or comic dubs on Youtube, which are also very well-done and take a lot of effort to make, much love to them too. There is a difference, however.
Monetization.
And I'm not asking for pity! I'm appealing for understanding.
Because some comic dubbers on Youtube are able to earn ad revenue from the videos they upload. From the beginning, we artists have given them the permission to dub our works. But we don't receive anything from it, nor do we usually charge them for using our art (against our better judgement).
We let them use our comic pages in their monetized videos for free. And occasionally these videos receive thousands and millions of views, which I imagine gives a decent amount of ad revenue, while the artists themselves don't usually earn anything from their own artwork, nor do we ever want to put it behind a paywall of any kind. (we like reading free comics too so don't worry x|)
... But doing full-colored comic pages for free eventually gets hard to sustain without any income from it, even more so when we need to give our time and energy to other jobs to earn money for a living instead. We legitimately keep going on our comics purely out of love. Truly, we would LOVE to do our own art for a living. There's things like Patreon but it's only feasible if we're also able to produce bonus content or show BTS, and only people willing to spend money for them can help us, and not readers who aren't able to.
And we understand that not everyone can afford to support us monetarily. And that's okay!
But if you love these comics and want to really help us to keep going, there ARE ways you can easily support us for free!
For example, affiliates on Twitch (like myself) are able to earn ad revenue very early on (they must have at least 50 followers, quite a requirement, but still easier to obtain than Youtube's 1000 subscribers).
(my Youtube, btw. not much rn but drop a subscribe?)
But simply put, if the vast majority of readers from the yt numbers visit and stay for ads on the artists' Twitch streams (remember to have adblocker disabled for the site, if any), they'll be making an actual, physical contribution to the artist themselves, at no cost whatsoever. We earn up to 55% from any ads that run on our stream, so the more viewers, the better!
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(this is my twitch on average 8 viewers, with a 3 hour stream. again, the more the better!)
(ofc you can also buy subs to watch ad-free and supports me directly, but i'm typing all this to share the free ways people can support their fave creators ✨)
And even if that doesn't work out, I'd be happy enough to see most of you there 🙏🏻💙 I've been treating my streams as work, so I'm striving not to break the streak.
So drop a follow on my Twitch, and catch the streams when you can! They're great if you need company or background noise, and also great for co-working~
Currently streaming WEEKLY, Mondays, Wednesdays (SwapOut) and Saturdays, 10.30AM EST
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(art by @cupcakepaints)
>> twitch.tv/zkcats <<
Anyway thanks for listening to my Ted talk, please share this around for others as well >< 🙏🏻 Artists, make this a reblog chain or something! Promo your stuff!
And apologies for the essay, I wasn't expecting to type this much sdghsgh this itself is not an ad for Twitch or whatev, I'm just a little frustrated with needing to juggle all this.
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I was also considering hosting SwapOut somewhere that could get ad revenue, but I wasn't sure where until I realized I can probably earn that from my Tapas now (i think?? sdfhgh up to 70% ad revenue there but i haven't seen any yet) So maybe I'll post there a day earlier than here or something? We'll see. Go subscribe there! Check it out! Reread it! Help ME help YOU!
... Much appreciated ><
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ciellunee ¡ 1 year ago
Note
hey hi hello could u do a fic with toji fushiguro and maybe gojo?
one of them (or both 🤭) with a reader who has a very big attitude. like always making up comebacks, acting like a diva, etc. she also has really great hair and outfits. it can be sfw or nsfw—whichever one works better.
Hey! I hope you're doing good✨️ enjoy reading and keep requesting♡
Bratty reader x jjk men
Includes - Toji fushiguro, Gojo satoru
Tw⚠️- contains NSFW 🔞 minors dni
☆Toji fushiguro☆
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At first, he's charmed by your attitude. Nobody ever dared to talk to him like that, but you, you were different.
You're gorgeous. He's in awe of the way you present yourself. From your hair to clothes, your figure and personality, everything is charismatic. Cherry on top is that attitude of yours. You know just what to say. Sometimes, it hurts his ego, but mostly, he enjoys that cute little smirk you have with every spicy comeback.
"Tojiiii, you always have to work on weekends," you whined. 'Some people need to work in order to earn money princess, unlike some who'll laze around the house munching on chips and then complaint they're getting fat.' He shot you a devilish smirk.
"Funny how you're still living under my roof when you work, and I laze around" getting closer to his ears you whisper - ' talk to me like that again and you'll be sleeping on street'
Acting like a brat? He'll make sure he punishes you.
◇NSFW◇
Toji fushiguro doesn't play when it comes to punishments.
He knows how to knock some discipline into your bratty self.
Will pound you from behind and makes you look in the mirror while you continually repeat- "I'm sorry daddy, I've been a brat!"
Degradation is toji's kink. Asks you to repeat things like 'who's sl*t you are' and makes you beg for forgiveness.
Fucks you hard all night until you pass out from all the orgasms you've had.
"Next time make sure your cu*t can keep up with your mouth princess"
☆Gojo satoru☆
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Satoru is fun loving when it comes to you. He adores you so damn much that it doesn't matter how bratty you get sometimes.
One thing everyone knows about satoru is that, he's a very jealous man. He knows you're gorgeous. Your shiny locks, elegant clothing and beautiful skin....everything about you makes him crazy.
"Babyyyyyyy!! I miss your cuddles, you're always so busy" satoru groans. 'I can stop working as soon as you stop leaving your damn work unattended' you shrug.
"You're so mean I bet utahime would treat me alot more sweetly" he smirks. He's petty and he knows that. 'And I am pretty sure Kento would be my ideal match. He never complaints, always have my back, he's a great cook and above all......he's so hot!'
This was enough to throw satoru off the table. You're a mean brat and he NEEDS to cater to that.
◇NSFW◇
"Yeah?? Want to cum babygirl" your moans are slippery and eyes filled with tears. 'Toru ple-please' you whined.
Satoru edges you the whole night, reminding you who he his. "You're always so wet for me"
Asks you to moan his name louder and louder so that you know who's making you feel so good. Loves it when your mind breaks and the only thing you can think about or speak about his him.
"Weren't so sweet a while back? You think kento can take care of you like this? You think kento can make you feel like this? You think kento can make this cunt throb this much?"
Edges you to the climax multiple times but removes his hands until you cry and beg for his forgiveness.
I'll let you cum once I feel you're truly sorry. Till then....let's see how much this pu*sy can endure.
Tags- @brunette-bitch77
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starrystevie ¡ 1 year ago
Text
18+ | modern office steddie au | cw: public sex, undernegotiated kinks, unsafe sex | crossposted to ao3 here
eddie doesn't do it often. okay, maybe that's a stretch. frequently might be a better word for it, more accurate. but he wouldn't say he does it everyday or anything. it's just a little break from the day, an escape from the monotony of corporate america.
he's only been in this new tech support job for a few months but he's already comfortable enough that working on his next novel at his desk doesn't give him anxiety anymore. he isn't afraid someone is looking over his shoulder all the time like he did when he first started with the company.
the thing is, eddie's good at tech. he's good at finding the problems, finding even better solutions. half the time all he's doing is updating and restarting people's equipment that hasn't been refreshed in years. so he finds himself with enough free time at his desk to work on the second installment of his fantasy novel when the problems seem to be at a low.
as he waits for his laptop to boot up, eddie cracks his knuckles and grabs his phone to send a text to his editor that may or may not also happen to be his best friend so he could cut back on over exuberant editing fees. he doesn't read the message over, just fires out a text to nancy quickly before pocketing his phone.
he only realizes the typo once he gets a laughing emoji in return and cackles at what he actually sent.
"getting ready to write some smut on the cock!!!!!"
it doesn't take long to send a winky face before correcting himself to say " on the clock obviously", before pocketing his phone and opening the document where his novel is. just as eddie is about to start typing, a voice behind him makes him jump out of his skin.
"what was so funny?" steve asks, arm propped on the top of his flimsy cubicle wall, legs crossed over one another, smirk on his face.
eddie forces himself not to swoon. he takes in the way his white button up stretches across his chest, dress pants oh so snug over his thighs, hair pushed back in the way that only steve harrington could pull off. he may have only been at the office for a few months, but ever since he first saw him, steve very quickly became the only thing eddie could think about.
"i'm sure you wouldn't find it funny," he starts, tilting his laptop screen halfway shut so steve can't catch him doing his other job, his favorite job, while at work.
steve smirks again, his cheek lifting enough to crinkle his eye. "try me, munson."
with a dramatic push, eddie rolls in his wheely chair and stands up so he can keep his voice low. "i sent my editor a dirty text on accident."
if steve's surprised, he doesn't show it.
"editor, hmm? for what?" his voice is as low as eddie's and it makes the cubicle feel even smaller than it is. like everything in the world has zeroed in on their whispers to each other.
"i might be writing a book. well, technically i've already written a book. this is just the sequel."
steve's eyes flick from eddie to his laptop and then back once more. "is it anything i'd know?"
he cackles again, picturing steve reading his smutty fantasy novel, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to make any sense out of the haphazard world map eddie drew for the back page. but then again, he could easily picture steve in the world he made. he'd be a prince- no, scratch that, an elven prince- just like the one he's writing about in this one.
"i do read, you know. i'm not entirely up to date with everything but i do like books." steve says it like he's almost hurt and it makes eddie look back up at him, mellowing out his wide grin into a softer smile.
"oh, i wasn't doubting that. i just doubt you read elf porn in your free time."
whatever hurt was lacing through steve's face is gone, replaced with wide eyes and eyebrows to his hairline and a bright smile pulling at his cheeks.
"yeah," he says a little breathless, "yeah, definitely not the first thing i'd reach for."
eddie gives him a told-you-so head nod and brings a hand up to run through his hair, tracking steve's eyes as he follows the motion for a moment. having his eyes on him rushes through eddie like a wave crashing and he's halfway tempted to do it again if he didn't think it would look forced.
"well you probably don't know mine then."
as he turns to go back to his chair, he hears steve cough to get his attention back, arms crossed over his chest to make his shirt pull taut over his beautiful, gorgeous, annoyingly perfect biceps. "so what was the dirty text?"
"well, it was actually a typo," eddie starts, cocking his head to the side with a smirk as he pulls out his phone, "so an unintentional dirty text. but still funny, none the less. and i don't think i can say it out loud without getting hr called on my ass so-"
he holds up his phone so steve can see the brief conversation between him and nancy, watches his eyebrows shoot back up to his hairline, watches as his mouth drops open for a millisecond before giving eddie another goddamn smirk. steve leans back, drops his arms to put a hand on his hip, and looks eddie less than subtly up and down.
"so... do you want to?"
eddie can feel the moment his heart stutters in his chest. a combination of steve's general... steveness plus the implication of what the text said and his mind travels to a dirty, dirty, not meant for work place until he pieces it somewhat together and asks-
"...are you asking if i'm gay?"
steve huffs out a laugh and takes a step further into eddie's cubicle. there already isn't much room and with him coming in the tiniest bit closer, their toes are almost touching.
"sure," he says like it's the easiest thing to say on a thursday afternoon. "it can be a two-part question if you want."
a few things run through eddie's head all at the same time:
steve's close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of the arm he now has resting on his desk, and he's really about to come out to a coworker which he normally leaves for at least 6 months into a new job, and that he thinks he's going to pass out if steve is actually asking what he thinks he's asking.
do you want to write smut while you're on my cock?
he doesn't know where he finds the courage, honestly. call it a slow thursday, call it a little extra motivation for his novel. eddie scoots closer and throws caution to the wind.
"then yes to both."
he's never seen steve's office. he's been to the top floors before when some higher up needed him to install a web browser on his new desktop so he has kind of an idea of what the private offices look like.
eddie didn't expect the first time that he got to see steve's office would be spread out, bent over his desk with his novel pulled up on his laptop while steve runs his hands over his ass.
"here's how this is going to work," steve whispers close to his ear while he lays against his back, snaking a hand up to undo the knot of eddie's messy tie, popping open a button on his dress shirt in the process. "you stop writing, i stop fucking you."
with a hum, eddie presses his hips back, up on his tiptoes with his off brand dress shoes pinching his feet tightly. "i think i can manage that."
"i'm not finished," he bites gently at eddie's ear lobe, returning his hands to palm over his ass cheeks. "everything i do to you, and i mean everything, needs to be written down. turn me into a character or something, i don't care, but i expect you to be thorough."
he doesn't mean to moan at the instructions, really he doesn't, but it's so easy to picture steve morphing into a character in his world. his mind races trying to figure out how exactly to write him into the scene that had already started, but with a snap of his fingers as the idea clicks, he writes out a quick line and looks at steve over his shoulder for approval.
"who's sylvar?" steve asks, pronunciation clunky on his tongue.
"sylvar is an elven prince, might as well make you him. besides, you both have an s name."
steve chuckles, his breath ruffling eddie's hair. "okay, fair. prince, huh?"
he doesn't have to look over his shoulder again to know that steve's smirking so he rolls his eyes and finishes the sentence, only breaking away to gasp as steve brings his hand between his thighs to spread them further apart.
"i'm gonna take a wild guess and say that elidyr is supposed to be you?"
eddie nods and pulls his tie off the rest of the way. "let's see, he's one of the prince's newest attendants, known for being a bit out of control, gets chastised for staring at the prince's ass in his khakis too much-"
"you're making that one up, huh?"
he tosses his tie to the side and brings a hand up to tangle in steve's hair, pulling his lips down to his neck and waiting for him to get the hint and start kissing. "steve, i'm making all of it up. that's the way writing a book goes."
"is that so?" he murmurs playfully against his neck, teeth pressing against the skin as he smiles, hands yanking on his hips to get eddie flush against his cock. "...i don't see you writing."
eddie huffs and shakes his head before writing out quickly how sylvar grabbed elidyr by the hips roughly to show him how excited he was. steve takes the typing as the go ahead and quickly undoes both of their pants before running his hands up eddie's now bare thighs.
he didn't really have any idea of how well he'd be able to hold out to steve's ministrations while having to write them out at the same time, but any confidence he had in himself leaves when steve's palm cups his cock through his briefs. eddie cants his hips forward and brings his hand back up to tangle once more in steve's hair.
and just like that, the touch is gone.
"oh, come on!" eddie whines and brings his hands back to the keyboard, typing in random filler words until suddenly he has no underwear and hands pulling his ass cheeks apart.
"gonna fucking take you apart... shit," steve whispers and eddie doesn't think he was supposed to hear it, but he writes it into the scene anyway.
there's a cool dribble of what must be lube on his hole and he fights against the shiver it sends up his spine. "you have lube in your office?"
"no, i have lube in my briefcase. big difference."
eddie doesn't really see how to the two are different, but he laughs to appease steve before getting cut short as a finger starts to enter him. he must whine, must jerk or do something wrong because it's leaving almost as soon as it had arrived.
"steve, i swear to god," eddie groans, head dropping down as he types without looking. poor nancy is going to have a hell of time reading and editing over this draft.
they both sigh when the finger presses into him once more and steve weaves his other hand into eddie's hair to pull him up and look at his screen. "there you go, just keep typing. write about how good it feels."
and shit. that's hotter than he expected it to be.
it goes well for all of a few minutes, eddie typing and steve reading over his shoulder, scissoring his fingers to get him nice and wet and open. they both somehow manage to keep their composure, filthy words being muttered out loud that then end up on the screen.
it's after steve gets him cock in him that it all goes down hill.
"oh fuck-" eddie moans as his leg gets hoisted up for a better angle. steve's grip on his hip is brutal, bound to be leaving bruises, as he pulls eddie back to meet him in the middle.
his chest is rubbing against the pleather desk cover, nipples catching on just the right side of painful when steve pushes his shirt up and out of the way. his dick is flopping against his thigh with every thrust, the lack of friction driving him insane.
he swears he only takes his hands away from the laptop for a second but then steve's pulling out quickly, dropping his leg and getting eddie off balance. he whines like he's throwing a temper tantrum before bringing his fingers back up to type more nonsense, gasping when steve slides back in like no time has passed.
"read it," he huffs next to his ear, "tell me how perfect you make fucking me sound."
"oh my god," eddie croaks, eyes rolling back as steve lets go of his hip once more to pull his head upright. "sylvar fucks wi-without abandon, hitting every right spot possible inside elidyr, the heat of his h-heavy cock punishing him making him mad with lust."
"good, yeah that's good. like when i fuck you hard?" steve grunts out before pistoning his hips even faster, eddie's moans bouncing off the bare office walls. "tell me more, keep going baby."
"the grip he uses to hold onto elidyr's hair is the only thing keeping him upright. this is all he could want, tending to the prince's every desire, being whatever the prince wants him to be." eddie expects it when the fingers in his hair curl even tighter, his back bowing against the desk with the pressure, but he still keens loudly at the pull.
steve chuckles roughly, like he's barely holding on himself, hips stuttering before evening out. "is that what you want?"
"wha-" eddie murmurs, not trusting his voice much more than that, his brain turning into mush. "is what what i want?"
"want to tend to my desires, want to be for me to use however i please?"
and the thing is, realistically, eddie knows this whole thing is weird, blending his two worlds together in a way he's never done before, but it doesn't stop him from forgoing the rules and bringing a hand down to work over his cock. "god, don't stop. please, please, please..."
steve must be tired of the game, too, because he doesn't even attempt to quit what they're doing to punish eddie as he stops writing. he barely has time to appreciate that the game is finally over because the hand in his hair slides around to rest gently around eddie's throat, pulling him up so his back is to steve's chest, every thrust punching out another gasping breath.
"answer the question," he says, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. "gonna let me use you how i want?"
eddie has died and gone to heaven and the cause of death is a mixture of steve's tongue, hands, and cock. his mind wanders to what else they could do together, what else he'd let steve do, what else he wants steve to do. he sends up a quick thank you to whoever is listening that he saw the job posting for this company so he could be here in this moment with a possible sex god in his midst.
the hand that he had braced on the desk for support makes its way up to cover steve's on his throat, a barely there pressure combined with his quick fingers on his cock that sends him over the edge.
he breathes out a "yes" as he shoots come across the stop of steve's desk and see stars dancing in his eyes. steve fucks him through it, whispers filth of what he wants to do to eddie right into his ear, and when he comes back to himself, he digs his nails in the top of steve's hand.
"want it, want you, however you want me-" he chokes out.
and when steve finally comes inside of him, eddie makes sure he bends back down with his cock still pounding into him to write some line about how nice elidyr thinks it feels to filled up from someone who probably shouldn't be giving him the time of day. he tries not to find parallels as steve kisses up the back of his neck as he rocks his hips for the final time.
eddie's bare ass is in a mixture of their come as they maneuver him around to let him sit up and wrap his legs around steve's hips, pulling their spent cocks together while they lazily make out. steve's hands dance softly over his bare thighs, eddie threads his fingers through steve's hair.
"how does it end?" steve whispers against his lips.
"i don't know yet," eddie says truthfully, his mind wandering as kisses start to trail down his jawline. "how do you want it to end?"
"i don't suppose they have bars in this elf world, do they? one where they can go on an actual date to before going back to the palace or whatever to ravage each other?"
eddie grins, tipping his head back to catch steve's lips one more time in a slow kiss. "i can arrange for them to go to the tavern. i think they'd both like that."
the next morning, slightly hungover and draped over each other in steve's way too large bed, eddie ignores a text from nancy asking why the names change halfway through the draft and wondering who the fuck steve is. eddie silences his phone and goes back to sleep, so glad that he didn't double check his first message yesterday for typos.
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lanadelnegan ¡ 1 year ago
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Tattoo
Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).
Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink
Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.
A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.
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"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."
The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.
Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.
"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.
"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.
I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.
"Bye Mr. Smith."
"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.
"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"
I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.
I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.
What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.
He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.
His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.
He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.
He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.
He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.
He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.
"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"
I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.
"Look at me."
I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.
"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"
"Stop calling me kid." I snap.
He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."
My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.
"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."
He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.
"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.
He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.
Why would he?
Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.
Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.
Back to Y/n's POV:
I cried on the way home that day.
While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.
While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.
My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..
"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."
Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.
After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.
"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."
"I think I want a tattoo."
"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.
"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."
The next day...
Lucille's
The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.
"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.
"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.
"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.
She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.
"This your first tattoo?"
"Yeah, kinda nervous."
She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."
I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.
"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.
I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.
After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.
"Breathe, babe. You got this."
After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.
"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.
I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.
"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.
I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.
He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.
The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?
He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.
Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.
"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."
"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."
"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.
"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."
"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.
He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.
"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."
He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.
"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.
"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.
I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.
He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.
The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.
"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.
My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.
He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.
If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.
"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.
He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."
Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.
"Why did you take art, y/n?"
"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."
He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"
I shrug. "Both."
His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."
He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.
He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.
"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.
Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.
"Do you like it?" I ask him.
He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.
I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.
He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.
"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"
"Yes.."
"Tell me what you want, baby."
"Your mouth."
He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.
He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.
"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."
His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.
He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."
I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.
He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.
"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."
"You.. imagined it?"
"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.
He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.
"Negan, I'm gonna.."
"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.
"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."
"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."
He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.
"Nega-"
"No, y/n."
My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."
"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."
I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"
"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."
"Then why don't you?!"
"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."
I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.
"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.
I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
"Goddamn it, listen to me!"
I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.
"Y/n.. look.."
"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."
He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."
Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.
"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."
I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.
That's definitely going to leave a mark.
"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."
I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.
"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.
"Negan.." I breathe.
He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."
I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.
"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.
"But, Negan, we're-"
"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."
I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.
"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."
He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.
I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.
"Taste good, doll?"
I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."
He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.
The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.
"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"
"Yes, please. I need you."
He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.
He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."
"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."
He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.
"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.
I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.
His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.
"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."
His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.
I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.
"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"
I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.
"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.
He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.
"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."
I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.
I think I love this man.
He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.
"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."
"You care about all your students."
"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.
The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.
"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"
"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.
"Do you not care?"
"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.
"What are we doing in here?"
"Getting matching tattoos, of course."
I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"
He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.
"No, doll, you are."
Part 2 here
978 notes ¡ View notes
summercourtship ¡ 25 days ago
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𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖞 '𝖏𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖑𝖘𝖊𝖓' 𝖏𝖔𝖍𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖋!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 18+
I started writing this in fall 2020. At it's most ambitious, it was going to be a multi-chapter fic but that obviously didn't and won't happen so here: have it reimagined as a one-shot. You might be able to tell where it would have expanded into a larger story, but I tried to condense it. If anything that is here is eerily similar to something else I've written, it's because I've probably taken it from this draft lol. Also TBH I'm trying to not be as explicit in my sex scenes because I just feel more comfortable writing that way. Which seems like the opposite of a goal: for years, I've been trying to become better at writing super explicit scenes and now I'm trying to reel it in and make it (hopefully) match the rest of my prose. IDK. Happy Halloween!
brief summary: A one-shot about being stalked by your coworker who is also the serial killer terrorizing the town. warnings: slightly dubious consent due to threat of death, stalking, horror themes, knife play, PIV sex, some dirty talk | word count: 4025
danny 'jed olsen' johnson masterpost | read on ao3
You smell him before you see him. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and the unspecific musk of his cologne. On anyone else, you’d hate it. But with him, it’s become an almost comforting scent, indicative of one of your favorite people’s presence. When he rounds the corner and comes into your view, you can’t help the tiny smile that crosses your face.
“Hi Jed!” You chirp as he comes to a stop in front of your desk, placing his coffee on the corner of your desk to free his hands as he rummages in his side satchel bag. He gives you a smile in return, pulling out a thin file folder and flipping it open. 
“Here are those photos you wanted me to get,” He hands over a small stack of pictures, all developed and ready to go. Last week, you asked him to take the pictures on a whim, thinking you might just have to go down yourself with your crappy hand-me-down camera and snap a picture for the article you’re working on. But, to your surprise, he agreed quickly. 
The article isn’t anything special- in fact it’s quite the opposite. A filler piece for the middle section of the paper that no one really read. Despite this, you couldn’t bring yourself to bullshit the article, and still put forth an unnecessary amount of effort into the piece. No one would read it now, but perhaps it could be added to your portfolio for when you finally left this town. 
The photos are good- which isn’t a surprise considering who took them. Everything Jed did seemed to turn out well, even when he didn’t try. You wonder what he looks like doing something he’s actually passionate about.
“I didn’t think you’d have these ready so soon!” You say, flipping through the four pictures he handed over. You’d have to choose one- you’re lucky they’re even letting you include a picture in the meaningless article. “I mean, aren’t you busy with Ghostface?” 
He gives a small exhale, like he’s laughing at his own inside joke. “A little bit.” He pauses. “Maybe I wanted a break to go take some pictures of the duck pond in the park. Riveting stuff you’re writing about.”
“Excuse me, but the purported existence of an otter in the duck pond is very important news. Would be front-page worthy if there wasn’t someone else taking up the headlines.” You laugh before stopping for a moment, thinking about what you just said. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. People are dead and I’m making jokes about an otter.” 
“Don’t worry about it, everyone copes in different ways.” He smiles down at you. “Especially when you have no idea if you’re next.” 
“That’s morbid, but fair.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t notice how his eyes flick to follow the movement. “Anyways, thanks again for the pictures. I will have to find a way to repay you.” 
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles again, different this time. This is the smile that makes your stomach swoop and your heart skip a beat. Your face heats and you stop thinking for a second, but you press on.
“No, please-” 
“I wouldn’t want to put you out like that. Times are hard.” 
“I- okay.” You sit back, looking at him. He nods and starts to leave, but the part in you that insisted on somehow repaying him took over and you were speaking up once more.
“Jed!” He turns and looks back, eyebrows raised. “Um, at least let me take you out for coffee? Just as a thanks, not repayment.” He thinks about it for a moment, your heart racing as you wait with bated breath for his answer. If he didn’t say yes, you’d never be able to look at him again. You might have to leave town immediately.
“Sure, but let’s make it a date instead.” He gives you a tiny smile and a wink that you barely register, before turning and walking away. Giddy, you sit back in your chair, trying not to hide your face in your hands. Instead you focus on the pictures, flipping through them to distract yourself from the newfound excitement in your veins.
____
Despite the fact that there was a masked stalker-murderer prowling the streets of your town, you felt no fear walking home. Maybe it’s a remnant of your teenage “nothing can hurt me” years. Maybe it’s just your stupidity rearing its ugly head at the worst time. 
Or maybe you just like the thrill of it all.
You had listened to the warnings- check behind you when you walk, keep an eye out for anything abnormal, lock your windows, lock your doors, don’t hang out places alone. However, you followed them a little haphazardly. You didn’t engage in any behaviors that could be misconstrued as inviting danger into your life, but you also didn’t necessarily allow the paranoia to get to your head.
If you did, you might have died from sheer terror and helplessness. Or perhaps you would’ve been more careful, and would’ve definitely noticed that you had already unknowingly disregarded the warnings.
Someone was following you.
And they had been following you for a while.
____
You wake up suddenly. It’s like that sometimes- not gently, or gradually. You’re just... awake. Brain racing to catch up with your surroundings, you sit up. No clock around, but you’d hazard a guess that it’s somewhere around 3AM. Running a hand through your hair, you sigh, the dream you’d been having already disappearing from your memory. Plopping back onto your pillow, you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come back to you.
It’s funny how the air conditioning can sound like someone breathing, deep and slow. You vaguely register that something isn’t right here, but sleep takes over before you can linger on that thought. 
__
The best coffee shop in town is a small, cluttered shop off of the main road. It’s tucked away between a barbershop and a vintage store, far enough away from the main street that any tourists wouldn’t come by it. (Not that there were many of those now that a serial killer prowled the streets at night.)
“You okay?”
You look up from where you’d been staring into your coffee, even though it was probably too late in the day to be drinking it, the sky already darkening with the approaching evening. But your body was thick with exhaustion for reasons you weren’t quite sure and you needed to finish another pointless article when you went home. Jed had his own coffee, so at least you weren’t alone in your desire for evening caffeination. 
“Yeah, I’m just… trying to not psych myself out about everything going on. The news says it's good to be careful but I know I’d just end up taking it too far and becoming paranoid.” 
“No one knows how to deal with this.” He says, simply. You only nod in agreement and take a sip from the coffee. 
A breaking news report on the TV in the corner of the room catches your eye. GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN screams the caption at the bottom of the screen. You silently nudge Jed and direct his attention towards it. For a moment, it looks like the echo of a smile crosses his face, but it’s gone before you can truly absorb it. His face is stony, and he looks back at you. 
“Are you gonna write about that?” You ask. 
“Tomorrow.” 
“What number is this?”
“Six.” He answers without hesitation. You force yourself to take a deep breath to try and calm the beating of your heart. Every time the news breaks, it feels like the first time. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to hearing about another brutal murder, and maybe that’s a good thing. It means you aren’t desensitized to it yet. You only realize that Jed is watching you carefully when he asks, again: “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine. Why are you so worried about me? You could be next too.”
“I think I can handle it if it comes to that.” He took a sip from his coffee to hide his smile. If you found this odd, you didn’t remark on it. “At least let me walk you home tonight.” 
You stared at him, unsure why you were suddenly uneasy, why an alarm was going off somewhere in the back of your head. Then you decided that it was stupid. You knew Jed. He took pictures of the duck pond for you. Hardly anything to be frightened by. 
“That would be nice, thanks.” 
___
After a week of waking up in the middle of the night, you were certain there was something else going on that your body was trying to tell you. When your eyes open, once again barely past two A.M., you sit up in your bed instead of trying to go back to sleep right away like you normally do. The shadows in your room seemed deeper tonight, your curtains blocking out most of the light from the street. 
You stare into the corner, hoping that the shape manifesting in the darkness was just your eyes playing tricks on you and you could go back to sleep. But you knew better. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the low light and you’re able to make out the dark figure standing in the shadows. 
“...Go away.” 
Slowly, with the creak of leather, the figure shook its head. You take a careful breath, trying not to let your fear show. But it must be palpable in the air, there's no way it wasn’t. 
“What do you want?” 
The headlights of a car driving by shined into your room for a brief second, illuminating the figure and the mask he wore like a bolt of lightning struck down outside. It only confirmed what you had been afraid of since you’d woken to see a dark shadow in your corner, as his mask was barely visible in the dark room. 
But it seems that Ghostface has, indeed, marked you as his next victim. 
You move, bolting out of bed. He must want to give chase because he lets you fling your door open and run down the hall, his steady footsteps following you. But he catches up to you quickly, his body slamming into yours and pressing you against the wall, his arms wrapping around your front. Before you can begin to struggle, the thin edge of a blade is pressed against your throat, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You can only respond with a choked cry.  
The hard length of his body presses against your back, a firm barrier between you and your freedom. He adjusts slightly, allowing you to feel the other hard length pressing against you, though you can only barely feel it through the layers of his outfit. But you know it’s there. 
You exhale shakily, and you don’t know if it's from fear or your own arousal. (Or both). 
His chest hits your back as he breathes, standing still with you as your mind tries to catch up with everything that has happened in the past few seconds.
“Let me go.” You whisper. His arms flex around you, squeezing slightly. “Please.”
To your surprise, his grip loosens. 
“Call the cops and I’ll skin you alive.” He hisses in your ear, his voice rough from the modulator he’s using. 
And then he’s gone, leaving you standing frozen in your hallway, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why wasn’t he killing you? Why wasn’t your blood splattered on the walls, why did he let you go?
Despite his warning, you did consider calling the cops. But really, what would they do? Ghostface was gone. There was no evidence aside from the thin line of red on your throat where he’d pressed the knife, and even that was fading quickly.
Instead, you return to your room, curling under the covers and staring at the wall until the room brightens with the dawn. 
___
You had no idea if Ghostface continued to watch you. You were certain he was. You’d come home to things in obviously different positions. It was like he was taunting you, begging you to do something about it.
You simply put the objects back where they belonged and continued about your day.  
___
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Jed asks, a few dates later when you’re sitting on your couch with him and perched on the edge of the cushion, your muscles tense like you were about to take off running, and he seems so understanding in that moment that you almost blurt out what has been happening for the past two weeks. But fear takes a hold of you, and instead you simply shake your head. 
“No, no. There’s nothing.”
___
The second time you actually see Ghostface, you’re barely prepared for it. You knew, deep down, that he’d be back at some point and yet you were still surprised when you arrived home to an open window, your sheer curtains fluttering in the hot wind as the humidity from outside filled the room. 
You drop your bag, staring at the open window like it was a rabid animal that was going to attack. Then, slowly, you turn your head to the corner, where you can feel his eyes on you. 
Even though you can’t see his eyes through the mask, you can feel the moment you make eye contact with him. 
Ghostface starts walking towards you and you don’t know why you don’t move. The door is right behind you and yet you stand there, watching as he approaches you with slow and measured steps as the streetlight from outside glints off the knife he holds loosely in his hand. You swallow thickly. 
Then, when he’s only a step away and after you’ve had ample time to turn around and run away, he grabs the side of your head, his gloved hand threading through your hair. Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and you struggle against his hold. You vaguely register him shushing you from behind the mask but your heart is racing too fast in your ears to really pick up on it. 
As a response to your thrashing, he places the flat edge of the knife against your cheek, a silent threat that stills your movement. You stare at him, stuck between his knife and his hand. (You should’ve run, why didn’t you run?)
He clicks his tongue, the noise distorted by the voice modulator in his mask as he shakes his head.
“Be good for me, won’t you?”  
Something shifts-- maybe it’s the wind from the open window or maybe he leans in a fraction closer but you suddenly catch a whiff of his scent. He must’ve been covering it up with a heavier cologne in his previous visits, because you would have easily recognized this from the first visit. Stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and an unidentifiable musk of his (usual) cologne.
It’s like being dunked in ice cold water after a warm day in the sun. You stare up at Ghostface, your brain quickly piecing together all the things you hadn’t consciously picked up on. The coincidences, the hints, the tiny behaviors that reminded you, always, of someone else. 
You pull yourself out of his grip, and you don’t know if he expected you because you’re able to make it halfway across the room on shaky legs before he grabs you again. Your legs buckle beneath you at the force of his body against yours and he follows you to the floor, roughly turning you over so you’re laying on your back with him perched above you. 
Heart racing, you reach up and yank his mask off, too quick for him to react. You blink at him, confirming what you’d just figured out. What you’d known, really, this entire time.
“Jed.” 
For a second, his face is blank. Then, he starts to laugh, pressing his weight down on your body when you start to struggle again. 
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out. Was hoping you wouldn’t, really, but.” He shrugged. “Does it make you feel better, or worse, to know that you weren’t actually cheating on me?”
“I never did anything with Ghostf- you.”
“But I know you well enough to know that you wanted to. I felt how you pressed back against me that night when you first noticed me in your room.” He leans down, getting in your face. His eyes are so cold, not at all the eyes of the Jed Olsen you knew. Was that even his name, or was that a lie too? “Did you want Ghostface to hold you down and fuck you? Was Jed not cutting it out for you? You needed the big bad serial killer, didn’t you?” 
He places his gloved hand over your throat, noting how your breath catches. “Of course you did.” His hand moves down, laying over your left breast. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to actually touch you. It’s only then you notice the rhythm he’s keeping with his other hand, the one that’s still resting on the side of his leg. He’s feeling your heartbeat, though his eyes are locked onto yours. 
“I didn’t. I don’t.” 
“You say that, but-” He peers closer at your eyes. “Your eyes are telling me something else.” He leans back and smugly offers his explanation. “You know that eyes dilate when you’re sexually aroused.”
“I-” You swallow, falling silent. What can you say? Any denial would be a lie. He continues to look down on you, face passive. 
“I don’t want to kill you.” He interrupts your silence. Then he’s quiet. Thoughtful, almost. A glimmer of the Jed you knew coming through in his hesitation. “Not yet, at least.”
“Oh-”
“But I can’t exactly let you go on knowing who I am.”
“...I won’t tell anyone.” He raises an eyebrow, looking like he might burst into laughter again. “Promise.”
What power did you have to promise something when you were the one under him, the memory of the edge of his knife still cold on your cheek? 
“Who would you tell?” He said, causing you to furrow your brow. “You think that Jed Olsen is my real name? I’ve thought through everything before you or anyone else could even try to.”
“But-”
“Why would I let you go, when your death will be so…” he leaned down again, his hips rolling slightly against yours. It’s achingly difficult not to press up against it. “...delicious?”
“I don’t want to die.” 
“None of you do.” He tutted. His hand that had been laying on your breast moves to the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling the fabric up to expose your stomach. You shivered at the feeling of leather on your skin, goosebumps trailing after his fingers as he slid his hand back towards your breasts. 
“Front clasping bra.” He says under his breath, raising his eyebrows at you. “Were you expecting company?”
“No.” You glance down. You could offer an explanation like oh, it’s almost laundry day or I just like this bra, but you stay silent. Watching as he unclasps it.  
Jed- though that isn’t his name, is it?- removes his gloves, tossing them somewhere in your living room. You start to turn your head to see where they landed but he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him again. 
“Stay still.” 
It’s then that you notice his knife, back in his hand, and watch, with bated breath, as he drags the tip over the skin between your breasts, not hard enough to even sting. Down, under where your skin creases, back up around the right breast until he lays the blade flat against you. Your chest is rising and falling quickly with your breath, though you try to control it for fear of being nicked by the knife. 
“Are you going to kill me?” 
He hums, tracing the point of the blade around your nipple and watching as it hardens. 
“Tell you what-” He moves the knife to the other breast. “-we can postpone your death.”
“And what do you want instead?” You ask, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was dragging his blade across your exposed chest or the obvious erection pressing against you when he rolled his hips. 
“I think you know.” He raised his eyebrows. Was there a choice? And even if you did have a choice where the option wasn’t death, would you choose any differently? 
He pinches your nipple, prompting a shaky acceptance from you. “Fine.” You barely bite back a please before he slides down your body, his hands running down your chest to the hem of your pants. The knife returns to cut off the button (unnecessarily) and he roughly pulls your pants down your legs, his nails scratching your skin. 
He slots himself between your legs, now with only the thin fabric of your underwear and his clothes separating him from you. Even that doesn’t last long, as he takes the side of your underwear and rips through it with the knife before doing the same to the other side, ripping the fabric away from your body. 
Leaning back, he starts to fiddle with the many belts and buckles around his waist. You watch, your legs falling apart slightly. His eyes drop to your core, his tongue darting out to lick his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. 
“For someone who seemed so averse to this, you’re pretty wet.” He comments. Before you can respond, he’s pushing into you, having pulled his cock from the complicated trappings of his outfit. 
You groan at the intrusion, the slight pinch of pain before you adjust as he continues to push into you. He gives you barely a moment to breathe before he pulls out and begins thrusting back into you. 
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts as he fills you, his cock thick in your cunt. You can only whimper in response, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. 
He pulls your leg up, placing it over his shoulder as he continues to fuck into you, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper inside of you. You curse, throwing your head back. You’re certain that you’ll have a rash on your back and ass from the carpet rubbing against your skin but the bursts of pleasure from his cock and his fingers are enough to distract you from that for the moment. 
“Come on, cum on my cock-” He grunts, his hips rutting down against you, his fingers pressing harder against your clit as he practically bullied your body into orgasming for him. Your back arched, hands flying to pull him down to you. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his cloak, scratching against the leather as he urges you on with whispered praise and degradation. 
With a final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you, low curses hissed through his teeth. 
You lay, chest heaving as he pulls out, wincing at the sudden feeling of emptiness. The sweat that covers your skin begins to cool. 
“Remember what I said last time about calling the cops.” 
You don’t respond, only clipping your bra back together and pulling your shirt back down over your chest. After all, what could the police do at this point? There were very few signs of a struggle in your apartment. And, as you found out the next day, Jed had gone out after and killed someone else. At best, the police wouldn’t believe that it had actually been Ghostface in your apartment. At worst, they’d think you were in on it. 
And, when you went into work the next day to find a dark polaroid picture of you, asleep, from a few weeks ago- before you’d even asked Jed to take those pictures of the duck pond- with a red heart scrawled at the bottom, you began to think that maybe the worst assumption wasn’t that far off anymore. 
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gremlinmodetweeker ¡ 3 months ago
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Bellowing Bull Calling Home
Please forgive me for not posting any stories in a hot minute! I've just been super busy and tired. I had a whole issue with my meds (thankfully it's been sorted out) and since I'm so angry I wrote something about KĂśnig getting mad. I really like the idea of being yelled at by this man, so once I get to 500 followers, I might post some snippets of smut.
Also, I'm thinking about opening a Kofi soon. I don't make much money, but it would be a good place to post some more... Interesting drawings, so to speak. I could also take some comissions if anyone is interested. However, I'm not sure yet. I'm just floating the idea.
Anyways, enough about me! Time to read KĂśnig getting mad because that's super hot.
TWs: KĂśnig yelling and insulting recruits, slight allusions to degradation kink, allusions to a horrible government secret contained in a suitcase (you never learn what it is)
Wordcount: 4.1K
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Bellowing Bull Calling Home
 Normally, visiting König at work was a laughable concept. A PMC base was no place for a simple civilian such as yourself, yet here you were with König’s (supposedly) very important briefcase that he’d been directed to hold close to his chest for the foreseeable future. You’d begged König to let you read them, but he had simply laughed you off and changed the locks on the briefcase again. He then politely hid it out of view to keep you from trying to break into it. You had no intentions of doing so, but apparently whatever was in there was important enough for König to go to such lengths to protect it.
Unfortunately, by hiding the suitcase to keep it out of sight and out of mind from your curious fingers, König had forgotten about it entirely when he left that morning. You wouldn’t have known were the suitcase not sat proud and regal on your humble dining room table.
Sipping your drink and leaning against the counter, you realized you had the perfect opportunity to try and hack the damned thing open. Whatever was in there had König muttering darkly under his breath and leaning away from your touch. Those accursed documents were driving a wedge into your relationship the size and depth of a canyon. Of course, you knew the case was tamper-proof. You knew that if you so much as cracked it open as much as a millimeter, it would most likely set off some sort of alarm if a proper code wasn’t punched in the top. You had the strange feeling, based on the hefty weight in your hands, that the case wouldn’t even so much as dent if you took a simple butterknife to it.
You swung it back and forth as you left the home, the weight of your relationship hanging with the suitcase in your hand. Making your way to the main gates of the base.
A soldier checked your ID before waving you through, getting another soldier to help make your way to your husband.
“So, I don’t know if he’ll be in his office right now, but we can swing by there first,” Horangi chirped as he followed behind you to a long, grey building that sat close to the entrance.
You passed through a series of doors under the judgemental stares of low-ranking officers as Horangi brought you down the linoleum floors to come to a plain wood door, its only decor being a brown and white plaque reading ‘LEICHENBERG’ in big block letters. Horangi flicked the back of his knuckles against the doors twice before rolling back onto the balls of his heels. He looked at the door expectantly, then to you, then knocked again.
“Sometimes I knock and he thinks he’s going crazy,” Horangi explained before turning back to the door, “what he doesn't know is that sometimes I’m walking by and I’ll knock on the door and leave before he can answer it. I don’t think he’s caught on yet.”
You shook your head tiredly. That would at least explain some of König’s strange tendencies as of late, at least. Friends like Horangi tended to shorten lifespans, so if König dropped dead on his next mission, at least you knew who to blame now.
Horangi pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door to step through into the minimalist office. You balked at his gall, but the way the soldier swaggered through the doorway had you thinking that Horangi was far too comfortable with pushing his way into your husband’s office.
You barely got a chance to see your wedding picture on KĂśnig's desk before Horangi cleared his throat.
“Whelp, looks like he’s not here,” Horangi sighed as he turned to face you, “guess I can just hand that over to him myself, if you’d like.”
You sighed, “I was really hoping to hand this over to him personally…”
“Why?” Horangi snorted, “so you can go fuck in a closet or something?”
“No!” you gasped, “I just… I wanted to see him. I never get to see him at work so, you know... I thought this might be a good chance to see what he's like at work.”
“Well who am I to deny such a fine and noble venture?” you could hear Horangi’s shit-eating grin through his mask, “if we’re gonna track down König, we gotta use plan B.”
“Plan B?” you asked warily.
“Plan B!” Horangi cheered before sauntering over and slinging an arm over your shoulder, “looks like we’re going on a goose chase today.”
“Please not a wild one.”
“It’s gonna be a wild one.”
You groaned as Horangi’s laughter echoed off the empty walls of König’s office. It figured that the one day you had to go to König’s work he’d be squirreled away into the farthest corner of the base. He had a habit of being in the wrong spot at the wrong time, which made you all the more anxious every time he was sent on deployment. It also had a tendency to haunt you in your daily life when he returned home to your awaiting arms.
Horangi trotted down the halls, conveniently pushing you past anything he considered a bit too explicit for civilian eyes and ensuring you were in front of him to prevent you from skiving off to some derelict corner of the base.
“König usually likes to go to the gym when he’s frustrated about something,” Horangi explained as he brought you from the main building to a separate section of the base. Once inside, Horangi rounded on the help desk like a tiger on a deer.
“So, Matrice,” Horangi drawled as he leaned his chin on the heel of his hand, somehow exuding smugness through his mask and sunglasses, “you wouldn’t happen to know where ol’ Col. Leichenberg is, would you?”
“Uh…” Matrice darted her dark eyes between Horangi and you, then down to the suitcase fearfully.
“König’s my husband,” you offered.
“König has a wife?” Matrice shook her dark curls as she tapped away on her archaic keyboard, “nobody ever tells me anything around here...”
“Well maybe if you actually came to the staff parties, you might get to know us a bit better,” Horangi slyly slid the dig into the conversation with serpentine ease.
“Horangi, last time I attended a KorTac hoedown you threw up in my car,” Matrice grumbled, “I’m never gonna be your DD again.”
“I don’t remember it being that bad,” Horangi snorted, then turned and muttered, “not that I remember that much anyways…”
“And that’s why I’m not your DD anymore,” Matrice scrolled through the page a couple of times before shrugging and turning to you, “sorry ma'am, but you’re outta luck here. Maybe try checking the cafeteria? It’s nearly lunch. Big boy's gotta eat."
“König would be the first out to lunch,” you grumbled after you thanked the woman. Horangi paid no mind to your whinging and simply turned you back around to head back to the main building.
“If it makes you feel better,” Horangi offered as he firmly pushed you across the road, “I think I saw him cut down on red meat the other day.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts,” you rolled your eyes. 
Horangi only laughed as he opened the door for you.
“I’m serious! He needs to watch what he eats!” you insisted as Horangi led you into the belly of the PMC.
“You know, sometimes I think about what your grocery budget is like, and then I think I'd rather go back to South Africa than have to pay your bills for a month,” Horangi chirped as he stopped you from missing a right turn, “watch your step.”
“You know it would be easier if you were the one in front,” you huffed as you swung down the bland corridor.
“I don’t like the thought of you being out of sight,” Horangi explained as he guided you around yet another corner, “König’s said some interesting things about you.”
“You guys talk about me?” you cast a glare over your shoulder at the tall Korean man.
“What else are we gonna talk about?” Horangi shrugged, “living on base isn’t exactly exciting. Dunno if you civvies got the memo, but there’s only so many times you can talk about special secret missions before it just gets boring.”
“Special secret missions?” you perked up.
“Cleaning duty assigned to whatever poor fucker got the shit end of the stick,” Horangi clarified.
You groaned, then complained, “Please tell me he doesn’t say bad things.”
“Not really,” Horangi replied, “but he tells me a little bit. Just the juicy bits.”
“Really?” you scoffed, “like what?”
“Did you actually forget your own birthday this year?”
You flushed, which seemed to be enough proof for Horangi to laugh at your humiliation.
“He told me you nearly had a heart attack when he told you,” Horangi snickered.
“Oh really?” the cafeteria came into view, “well has he told you he eats other people’s lunches as snacks?”
Horangi sighed, “I figured it was him. It’s not hard to guess that one.”
“Has he told you that he ate Stilleto’s cake?”
Horangi paused, “I thought he was a better man.”
“We both did,” you shook your head morosely, “but I guess she stole his evening snack or something?”
“Oh my God he didn’t try to justify it, did he?” Horangi groaned.
“I tried to explain it to him but he wouldn’t have it,” you pushed the door to the cafeteria open.
The massive room was empty save for a table of sergeants playing poker and a couple of officers sharing a coffee. The room was notably absent of any giant men with a propensity for malicious snacking. The warm and inviting smell of the room made you want to grab one of those dishwater coffees they served and kick up your feet, get a taste of the military experience, but the suitcase felt hot in your hands.
“Looks like he’s not here,” Horangi pointed out the obvious, “so maybe he’s outside training one of his teams? I hope not…”
“Why don’t we check?” you offered.
“But it’s so far…” Horangi trailed off weakly as you marched past him, “hey! Where are you going!?”
“To see König!” you called back.
Horangi rolled his eyes, but followed behind you regardless.
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The outdoor training area had been split into three squads of men, each squad being led by a different officer. The first leader Horangi brought you to had looked you up and down suspiciously before promptly turning a shade of milk white when he spotted the suitcase in your arms.
“What the hell are you doing with that!?” the portly man squawked as he jabbed a finger at the offending black pleather suitcase.
“My husband forgot it before going to work,” you spoke softly, taken aback by the man’s animated reaction.
“Wh-König just left it at home?” the man’s pale skin was steadily flushing to a beet red the longer you let him sit with your answer.
“Can you show me where he is? I need to get this back to him,” you tried to calm him but he only grew steadily more upset.
“You’re telling me König left that suitcase in the hands of a damn civilian?” the man scoffed, “König’s an idiot, but he can’t be that stupid!”
“She’s probably telling the truth, Baker,” Horangi interjected.
Baker steamrolled over him with the grace of a bulldog chasing a rat, “So where the hell did you get that?”
“It was just on my kitchen ta-”
“It was on your what!?” Baker howled.
“Baker!” Horangi barked, finally making the man pause to let you breathe, “this is König’s wife.”
Baker’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’. He turned to you with a sheepish smile, “Sorry, ma’am, I… I should’ve put two and two together but just seeing a random civilian with that in their hands and… Well… You gotta understand, right?”
You tried to steel your nerves as you replied, “It’s alright! Don’t worry about it.”
“I really should apologize though,”  Baker blundered on, “I mean if I’d only known you were König’s wife I never would’ve-”
“Baker please,” Horangi pinched his nose bridge, “cut the shit. I’m really not in the mood to listen to you kiss ass for an hour straight.”
“Understood sir,” Baker snapped his jaw shut before subtly turning to you, “please don’t mention anything to König.”
“I won’t,” you assured him kindly.
“Thank God,” Baker quietly made the sign of a cross before returning back to his platoon.
Horangi dragged you along to the next platoon, quietly ignoring Baker’s inability to direct you to König. Instead you were brought before a short man with notably thick dark eyebrows, accentuating his severe browline as he scowled at his soldiers.
“G’day Horangi 'ow are what the hell is she holding,” the man glared at you as though you were but dirt beneath his steel-toed boots.
“This is König’s wife,” Horangi cut you off before you could even start, “she’s here to deliver what he forgot at home.”
The man’s dark eyes darted from you back to Horangi, “You’re tellin’ me big boy over there forgot the damn-”
“Don’t say it,” Horangi interjected harshly, “don’t you dare.”
“She don’t know?” the man whispered.
“Not a word,” Horangi’s threat was nearly lost under the shouts of men and the screams of whistles.
The man looked unnerved, but nodded along begrudgingly.
“Right, well, you’re lookin’ for the big guy?” the man glanced between you both.
“Sure are,” Horangi nodded.
“Well yer in luck!” the man’s face lit up, “big boy’s just over there.” With that, he pointed out into the distance at one big man sitting in a navy blue folding chair whilst commanding the smallest group of soldiers, no more than a squad in number. His back was to them, but it was clear it was none other than König. If nothing else, the mask on his face in the sweltering hot sun was a dead giveaway. It was a miracle you didn’t see him earlier.
“Damn,” Horangi spat, “you really think it would be easier to find him, but he’s damn good at getting lost in a crowd.”
“When ‘e’s in that chair it’s hard to spot ‘im,” the man chuckled, “now get outta my sight with that damned thing. Gives me the heebie-jeebies just lookin’ at it.”
You glanced down at the suitcase and back at Horangi.
“You don't want to know. Seriously,” Horangi muttered as he urged you onwards.
Instead of taking in the weight of Horangi's ominous utterances, you focussed on making your way to König with a skip in your step, eager to see your beloved husband. You were so eager that you didn’t notice how he tensed up as you drew close. Just as you were about to greet him, he slowly rose from his seat with a blood-curdling howl sent straight from hell itself.
“YOU!” König bellowed like a brazen bull, “JEFFERSON, YOUNG, MANDULU! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW.”
You stopped dead in your tracks. You had never, never, in your life ever heard KĂśnig yell like that before. Sure he could curse up a wicked storm when he stunned his toe on the corner of your table, but this? This was another beast entirely. The mere thought of KĂśnig yelling like this had been completely foreign to you.
“YOU USELESS ANIMALS,” König raged as he rounded in on the three cowering soldiers, “I have never, in my entire life, seen such incompetence,” König drew himself up to his full height, making even you shiver in your shoes, “and yet here you three are before me. What gives you the right to call yourself soldiers!?”
“I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again,” the middle man’s voice quivered as he stepped forward for the others.
König’s laugh sounded downright demonic, “You’re apologizing for what? I haven’t even told you what you did wrong!”
You looked back at Horangi, who only threw you two thumbs up as he smartly backed away. You glared at his retreating form before KĂśnig forcefully grabbed your attention.
“All three of you have been nothing but DEAD WEIGHT to the rest of your team. I’ve seen better performances from drunks moping up their own VOMIT!” König snarled as he drew close to the men, circling them like a hyena stalks its prey, “fucking Aziz is doing better than any of you. And Mandulu!” König clucked his tongue as the terracotta skinned man quivered like an aspen tree when König's voice dropped to a lull, “I expected better of you. You’re supposed to be up for promotion, yeah?" König leaned in close to scream, "DOES THIS PERFORMANCE WARRANT A GOD DAMN PROMOTION?” König’s face wasn’t even a foot from the man’s nose, leaning down and coating him with hot breaths from his draconic lungs.
The man, Mandulu, slumped as all fear left his body, totally replaced with encroaching shame. He dropped his head down, before tearfully admitting, “No sir.”
“THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?” König screamed.
A part of you wanted to intervene. You felt like you were witnessing a torture session with how König rounded on this poor man, but something held you back. Maybe it was fear, but maybe, just maybe… It was arousal.
You hated to admit it, but something about watching König’s muscles bulge in his neck as his mask swayed forth when he leaned down over men who easily dwarfed you excited you. You almost wished that you were in their shoes, but watching was more than enough. He was a glorious sight, rage burning like the sun as he lorded over his men like a god. He was a mountain of a man with how he held himself up above his victims. You wished to lay before him like Prometheus, let him rip you apart with his talons.
“And you two,” König spat as he turned to the others, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON YOUR PHONES? What are you doing twenty feet off looking at the others while they work like ACTUAL FUCKING SOLDIERS.”
One meekly spluttered, “Sir we were just-”
“Just what? Laughing at Goetz?” you could see König whipping himself up into a frenzy as he hurled his next insults, “GOETZ HAD KNEE SURGERY THREE MONTHS AGO AND IS STILL HAULING YOUR USELESS ASSES ACROSS THE GODDAMN FIELD. AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PLAYING ON YOUR GODDAMN PHONES!!!”
You shuddered. If there was one thing KĂśnig hated, it was soldiers on their phone during training. You gave a silent prayer for the poor men.
König stalked around them slowly, “I should have you thrown out. What would I be losing? Nothing! Not a single thing! I might actually gain something without you two dragging us down!”
The men cowered miserably. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, despite knowing the abuse was more than well deserved. From the sounds of it, it was a miracle König hadn’t beaten them to a pulp. Now that… That would be a sight to witness…
“ALL OF YOU,” König snapped as he finally stood to face the three men directly, “Mandulu! Give me a ten page report on all the reasons you’re still worthy of a promotion today at eighteen-hundred exactly, or you’re up for recycling. For the next half hour, you’re running laps around the yard. Maybe think how you'll structure your points, ja?” he turned to the other two, this time with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. You knew that under his mask, he was grinning from ear to ear through the fury etched into his face. “And you two!” he cackled, “give me your phones. For the next week, you’re going to be putting your phones in lock boxes. You’re going to carry those fucking boxes from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. If you’re good little boys, you’ll get your phone for an hour before lights out. Are we clear?”
“But sir, my wife-”
“I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GOD DAMN ABOUT YOUR WIFE,” König roared.
The man shrunk into himself like he’d been burned by the flames of König’s fury.
“You are to carry your phones in lockboxes for the next two weeks! Are we clear?” König snapped.
“Yes sir,” the two miserable whelps squeaked out before König finally relaxed.
The goliath finally stood straight before them, “All three of you! Dismissed!”
“Yes sir,” the three men saluted and slunk off miserably.
Just as Mandulu looked like he couldn’t be in any worse of a state, König called out, “And Mandulu?" the man raised his dark for eyes, "I’m disappointed.”
The poor man looked like his whole spirit had just been crushed to dust. His face crumpled in just briefly before he quickly turned his face and quietly left.
You watched the poor man leave with his tail tucked between his legs before turning to look at KĂśnig. He was shaking his head slowly as he turned his back on his soldiers, all of whom were watching him for further instruction. He quietly turned to them, barked a couple of commands that had the soldiers scurrying into actions, then turned back to stare off into the distance. Incidentally, that was right at you.
“Ah!” König stiffened slightly as he locked eyes with you, “meine liebe! What are you doing here?”
“I brought this for you,” you held up the suitcase that had been weighing you down all day.
“Oh mein Gott,” König gasped as he rushed over, “ohhhhh mein Gott meine leibe I can’t believe you found this. I can’t believe I forgot oh mein Gott.”
“I figured you might need it,” you laughed as you handed the suitcase over.
“I knew I was forgetting something, but this? If one of my superiors saw me without this,” König shuddered, “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Well it’s a good thing I got it for you!” you smiled brightly before scowling, “it was really hard to find you though.”
“Oh?” König put the case down and put his hands on your shoulders, “where did you think I was?”
“Well, first Horangi took me to your office-”
“Please tell me he didn’t take you inside,” König groaned.
“He did,” you chirped, “but he did knock twice at least.”
“Well that’s something,” König grumbled, “so where did you go next?”
“We went to the cafeteria afterwards,” you placed your hands on König’s hips and shifted from side to side.
“You went to the cafeteria? Why didn’t you come here first?” König scoffed in mock offense.
“König,” you cupped his masked face in your hands, “I know you too well to not check the cafeteria second.”
KĂśnig sniffed indignantly but let you continue your regales of your odyssey.
“So anyways, when you weren’t in the cafeteria, Horangi took me out here to find you! It took us a couple of tries, but we got here in the end!” you lightly kissed the inside of his wrist, making him chuckle sheepishly.
“So you saw all that?” König grimaced.
“All of it,” you told him, “I feel kinda bad for them though…”
“Ach,” König scratched the back of his head, “Jefferson and Young are fucking idiots, but Mandulu is usually one of my best. I don’t know what got into him today…”
“Maybe he’s going through a tough time?” you asked.
“I really hope not,” König winced, “if he is… Well, I can’t apologize. And if he were out on the fields it wouldn’t matter, so this is a good experience. Still,” König paused as he looked off to where Mandulu left, “I hope tomorrow is better.”
“Can't you go easy on him?” you asked hopefully.
“It’s because I like him that I have to be harder,” König patted your head lovingly, “if I’m soft, he’ll never be what he wants to be. If I’m hard on him, he might get to my rank in a couple of years.”
“That fast!” you whistled, “he must really be something special.”
“I was the one who put him up for promotion,” König brought his hands back to his hils, “but… You weren’t upset by any of that, were you?”
“Not really,” you shook your head, “if anything, it was kinda hot.”
“You thought me going red in the face is ‘hot’?” König shook his head in disbelief, “you’re a strange woman.”
“It’s cool to see you when you get all angry and stuff,” you chirped, then quietly added, “it would be hot if you yelled at me like that.”
“I don’t want the neighbors to know about your kinks,” König drawled as you blushed, “but if you really want, we could always try something when we get home.”
“Could we really?” you grinned eagerly.
“Well, not like that,” König pointed over his shoulder at where the three men had stood, “but I’m sure we can figure something out. Now,” he picked up the suitcase, “do you need a lift home?”
“I’ll be alright,” you assured him, “do you need me to go?”
“I'd hate for you to go so soon. If you like, I can meet you back in my office, but as you can see I’m a bit busy just right now,” König gestured over to the soldiers hauling a massive log over their shoulders from one end of the muddy field to the other.
“Can you at least give me a kiss before I go?” you asked.
“Of course,” König laughed.
Without missing a beat, KĂśnig lifted his mask up to lean down and press a kiss against your lips. He held you tight briefly, then let you step back from his grasp. His eyes shone with an undying warmth as he took in your form once more.
“Colonel König has a face!” a soldier screamed in the distance.
KĂśnig closed his eyes as he let out an exasperated groan.
“They’ve never seen your face?” you asked.
“They’ve never been on the field with me,” König explained before ruffling your hair, “now go to my office. I’ll be there soon, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too,” you blew him a kiss as you walked off back to the main building.
As you did, you could hear König raging and roaring at the soldiers from behind you. You felt bad, but you knew you’d be on the receiving end of König’s rage soon enough. Funnily enough, you looked forward to it.
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Story Masterlist
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vrajitosarehaos ¡ 1 month ago
Text
Healed (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.
words: 3219
A/N: My other blog where I published my one-shots (thewxtchwhowrites) was deleted out of nowhere without explanation, so now I upload it here on the main one. Enjoy 💖
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You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.
Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.
Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.
As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...
Or at least now that you were feeling better.
You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:
"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."
Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:
"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."
Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.
"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex-boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.
"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."
There were times when your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.
Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.
Until it happened.
Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:
"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."
That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.
You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder, and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.
The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was brought you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.
A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could, and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.
"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.
"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."
That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh, and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.
Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.
You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.
As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.
"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.
"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.
“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.
Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.
"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.
“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.
You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.
But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.
“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."
That comment caught your attention.
Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.
"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."
Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.
Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.
You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.
Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.
And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.
You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.
Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.
You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.
When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.
The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.
Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.
You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.
And somehow he was healing too.
If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.
One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.
"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."
You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:
"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."
You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.
"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."
He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.
"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."
Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.
When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.
You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.
After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.
But it was your ex.
“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"
The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.
"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.
"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.
Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.
And the truth is he should be nervous.
Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.
And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.
Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.
Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.
"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."
Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.
"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.
"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.
Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.
"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.
You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.
"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."
You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.
You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.
You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.
You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.
Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.
"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"
"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.
Leah nodded at your question.
"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."
Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.
He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.
When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.
Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.
"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.
"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.
You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.
You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.
"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."
You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.
"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."
You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.
"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.
"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.
Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.
“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"
Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...
You two now knew how the other felt.
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dotster001 ¡ 2 years ago
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Hi i don't know, if your requests are still open, if not you can ignore it or do it whenever you want.
Just readed your prompt, when reader suddenly passes out with Vil, Jamil, Floyd and Rook. I was wondering, if you could write something similar for Malleus, Lilia and maybe the teachers Trein and Crewel?
(I'm happy you enjoyed those! And I hope you like these too!)
Part One Part Three
CW:Burnout (obviously), mental breakdown/trauma in Trein's part, spoilers for Vargas training camp in Trein's part, injury in Crewel's part
A/N: I've said this in my pin post, but I age up characters to actual college age, because I am in college, and didn't realize until a few months in the characters were not. Everyone here is. 18+ If it makes you feel more comfortable, imagine this as a grad school situation.
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He's been pouting a lot lately. Which for a normal person wouldn't be a problem, but Mal's pouting usually meant that the weather was bad as well. He was pouty, because whenever you had time in your incredibly busy schedule to see him, you still had to be working on your homework. With everything Crowley had you do for the school, you had to share your "dragon time" with your "homework time". But your boyfriend looked very cute pouty, so part of you wasn't too upset about it.
Until the day you were so busy with something that you hadn't eaten or slept in over 24 hours and just…collapsed during dragon/homework time.
Malleus immediately panics. He assumes you have had a heart attack and died (Mal…college students are unlikely to have heart attacks)  Once he finds a pulse, and sees your breathing, he scoops you up and teleports to Lilia faster than he has ever teleported.
He's sobbing as he answers Lilia's questions, not entirely certain that this wasn't something he did. Lilia easily is able to figure out what has happened, and goes to make you some soup for when you wake up. Malleus is too relieved to think about the fact that while Lilia's soup will have loads of protein, it might send you into shock. In the meantime, he puts a cool cloth on your forehead, and caresses your cheek.
After you wake up and barely survive the soup Malleus spoon feeds you he tucks you into his massive comfy bed (you can't tell me he doesn't have the fluffiest comforters) and then…vanishes.
From here on out, everytime you get a task from Crowley, it's already finished by the time you get around to it. It's weird, but it means you have time to keep homework separate from "dragon time". Which makes a certain fae very happy.
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Lilia has spent years learning how to care for humans, especially since most of them *cough* Silver *cough cough* Y/N are not good at caring for themselves.  While his recipes are terrible, he is right in some ways about making sure to get all your nutrients. While it can feel a little patronizing sometimes, he is right that you need sleep. While he is a little unorthodox in how he has fun, he's right that you need to have leisure time and do things you enjoy.
What you don't know is that behind the scenes Lilia has already been having regular arguments with a certain Crow about your workload. When two fae fight, it's never good, but you don't have to worry about what's going on.
Azul and the tweels get called back home out of nowhere, and now you're in charge of all the paperwork that he is usually in charge of handling, both for the lounge and for the other Housewarden's. Lilia sees less and less of his sweet human, and he's suspicious part of it is because you are avoiding him, knowing full well he would make you take a break.
He has to admit, your avoiding skills are actually pretty good. So he's not actually there when you collapse. And he's furious. Especially when he finds out that Crowley also decided to add his own paperwork to your ever growing pile. He only knows you collapsed when he hears some randos gossiping about how "the prefect collapsed running laps today, and the idiot duo had to walk them to the infirmary." He's immediately flying to the infirmary, powered by his pure rage.
He knows it's not your fault, especially since you have nothing to your name in this world, so it's easy to manipulate you into this position. So he does his best not to take his anger out on you as he watches you sip apple juice that the nurse gave you, while you do your best to keep your eyes open. Once he is certain that the nurse has things under control, he kisses your forehead, and asks you if you want him to bring you anything.
While he's out getting you a treat, he makes a stop at a certain Crow's office. From here on out you don't see a lot of him. You are a little worried that Lilia may have killed him, but everytime you ask him, he giggles and messes up your hair, before telling you how silly that is.
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He's harder on you than he is on most of his students, partially so that no one can claim favoritism, partially because you are just so far behind in history (having it not be your history) that he has to give you extra work and lessons to catch you up. But as a trade off, he tries to be a step ahead of Crowley whenever he can. There's little that happens in the school that he's unaware of, so he's usually able to protect you from his foolish boss.
Until you get sent to the training camp with the sports clubs to assist Vargas. He's furious about this last minute decision, that Crowley conveniently forgot to tell him about, and he's even more angry when he later finds out that you were "kidnapped" and then immediately had to fight a creature in the mines. 
Naturally, your mental health is not so great after the trip. He's starting to see it on your face when you both hang out, and even if he didn't, your work for his class is deteriorating, if you even turn it in at all. 
Then you break down one day when he asks you about it. He can't understand a word you're saying as you sob and yell and shake. But he's pretty sure he has the idea. You've been pushed too far. He sends Lucius to fetch a nurse or counselor , or heck he's sure even Sam would have something to help you relax enough to just breathe. In the meantime, he wraps his arms around you and tries to walk you through breathing exercises, while whispering some praises to you that you can't comprehend in this state, but appreciate all the same.
After someone gives you a potion that helps you relax a little, he leaves you to rest on his office couch with Lucius in charge, and he holds a meeting with the rest of that staff about what's not appropriate to put people through. (Essentially it's Crewel and Trein yelling at Vargas and Crowley about trauma and what their job is supposed to be) 
This never happens again. You continue to have extra work from Trein, but he always ensures he makes time to help you, or give you a soothing tea if he thinks you're starting to drop back into the bad mental state. If you do, he holds you close, and says nothing, while allowing you to spill whatever is plaguing you. 
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Prior to him dating you, you had denied his request many times to financially sponsor you. Now that you were together, it was harder to come up with an excuse for him not to. So he'd purchased Ramshackle and renovated it. He'd taken up the expenses for your schooling and food (after much argument  he'd also taken up Grim's) and after several discussions about the future of your relationship, he'd begun helping you through the process of becoming a citizen in a world that had no proof of your existence (a pain and a half, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved pup). In doing all this, he'd made it very clear to the Headmage that he had no hold over you, and therefore couldn't coerce you into anything.
Divus knew he was a fool for leaving you alone for a week. He had assumed that Crowley had nothing on you anymore, and that he could go help a smaller fashion designer that showed a lot of promise get their career off the ground. At first he was only going to be gone for a week, but it quickly turned into two, then three. He should have recognized the tension in your voice when you'd asked him over the phone when he thought he'd be back. 
When he finally returned, he thought he'd surprise you by showing up where he knew you'd be hanging out with your friends. He'd bought a ring for you that he was particularly pleased with, and he wanted you to have it as soon as possible. His plan was dashed as he watched you collapse into Howl, who immediately started to panic.
With a clear voice Divus took over the scene, picking you up and carrying you to his office where he had all manner of potions. As he pressed one to your lips, he noticed a cast on your arm. He'd ask about it later. 
When you woke up, you wrapped your arms around him, and whispered how much you missed him. He asked what happened, and you tell him how you broke your arm in yet another overblot incudent, and had been working like crazy for Crowley to pay off the medical expenses. 
You've never been scared of your lover. But his eyes were practically glowing with rage, and now you were starting to wonder if you should be scared. Divus does not accept cruelty to animals or humans. And, he keeps his receipts. It's not long before there's a pretty hefty case and Dire is removed as headmage for coercion and endangerment. After that, there aren't any more overblot incidents and the students seem more mentally healthy. How about that?
He decides to wait to give you the ring until you're fully recovered after everything. But he's certain when he asks you the question that comes with it, you'll have an answer he likes. Especially when you nuzzle into him so sweetly while you nap in his office.
....
Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll
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rose-tinted-kalopsia ¡ 3 months ago
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i promised ... and i owe ... so many of you thoughts on xavier's "no restraint" card..... SO HERE IT IS, UNDER THE CUT !! i ramble a lot so it's very long 🫶🫶
(this was so hard guys. this card was a whole entire shock factor.)
first of all...... please delight in this reaction image i can offer you. because. any of you who are reading this rn know exactly which part of the card i'm referring to when i say:
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(in conclusion, my legs are open)
.. ANYWAY !!!!!!!!! CLEARS THROAT
things we're going to talk about? well, it's me, so (A) character development, (B) relationship development, but also (C) WHATEVER THE HELL WENT ON IN THAT KINDLED MOMENTS SSCENE <3
(A-1) Character Development; Xavier
over the past few cards we've been having of him, i think it's safe to say that we're familiar with a number of his mannerisms, and i've also talked about a lot why that is and what goes into that.
but a lot of it changes in this card. and it's so much more than just the moment of realization he has in 21 days, too. enough that—aside from what we know eventually takes place—we can safely assume that all this occurs after that card chronologically.
exhibit a; tendency to do things on his own.
this is something that i may not have talked about as much, but i'm pretty sure we all know it's there—that xavier has always carried this tendency to do things all on his own. there's multiple examples of this, and it goes way way way back to his anecdotes.
i.e. with "passing by" and "when shooting stars fall", we already have prime examples—
"Whether it's tasks assigned by the higher-ups or senior members, Xavier always completes them quickly and methodically. He works until they're done, but nothing more."
"Xavier stands alone amidst a circle of fallen bodyguards. In the corner, Lawrence is tied up with bed sheets, his neck at an odd angle."
"I notice the wounds on his hands and face. Catching his breath, he holds out his hand, showing me a small, glowing Protocore. This is the first time he's looked at me with desperation in his eyes. When he moves closer, I notice a ring of light around his neck. It's a striking, suffocating red."
in his lightseeker myth, too, he's also the one to take the initiative and look for an alternative to philos' sacrifice. he leaves mc behind, and he leaves jeremiah behind—it isn't until later that he's able to enlist the help of others and form the backtrackers, and even then, they all recognize that he's the most capable one among them. in fact, it's also evident in "from the stars" from world underneath:
"As the leader of the Backtrackers ... Asteroids, turbulence, and the collapse of wormholes couldn't tear Traceback ll's team apart. With Xavier there, they managed to break through the universe's most impregnable spacetime barrier."
"It seems like everyone had a reason to give up and leave halfway except you. Well, you did too, but you wouldn't because no one could replace you. We all thought that you'd still make it to the end, even if you were the only one left."
in the main story, we're also faced with multiple scenarios of xavier going off on his own to do hunter duties, or otherwise a little extra in order to find the protocore that he needs—"heartstring symphony" is also proof of that.
and lumiere's myth is no different, nor is the whole legend behind lumiere in the first place.
"Xavier is missing. He didn't show up on the set, and there was no sign of him at home either ... Since then, I've never received a Wanderer alert on my watch again. Just like Xavier predicted, the dark clouds gradually dispersed, and the heavy rain slowly became a gentle drizzle until it ceased completely. Breathtaking evening clouds replaced them. Dusk falls, accompanied by millions of glittering lights creating a spectacular meteor shower. Long streaks reminiscent of contrails are etched across the sky. Meanwhile, the newest updates are being broadcast repeatedly on the massive screen in the heart of Azure Square. The previously rampant Wanderers have disappeared overnight, leaving behind only some suspicious Protocores ... The doomsday panic, which overtook the city like an inflating balloon, shatters silently as if pierced by a pin."
"Right on cue, my watch loudly sounds the alarm, and I hear the roars of Wanderers from the flames. At that moment, Xavier vanishes, and a beam of light with as much force as a rainbow piercing through sunshine cuts through the collapsed, burning factory. In the blink of an eye, he leaps out of the raging fire, his sword still coated in Metaflux that has yet to dissipate."
"'Threat levels are at least A. I have to go—' 'Stay here. I'll be right back.' Xavier pushes down my shoulder, and a strange red light around his neck is quickly concealed by his collar."
"The red light on Xavier's neck flickers wildly. He swings his weapon, sending out a lightblade to kill the remaining, struggling Wanderer. Smoke created by the dissipated energy rises in all directions. He leans against the wall, trying to steady his wobbling form after the intense battle. 'Abnormal vital signs have been detected. Excessive use of Evol. Disengage from combat immediately and receive treatment...' Xavier turns off the annoying warning on his watch and lifts his gaze to the entrance of an alley, where several shadows are closing in on him."
moreover is the fact that from world underneath, we also know that his collar acts as a suppressor:
"'...Light Evol has been detected. Evolver's Evol limit cannot be defined.' 'Any attempts to probe its limit triggers a special neck suppressor, which prevents the Evolver from using their full power.'"
and yet despite that, he still continues to do what he does, anyway.
a lot of things play into it, and i talk a lot about how his upbringing as a prince must have largely contributed to habits like this. he's used to doing things on his own, and he's expected to, in a way—all the burdens and duties placed upon him the moment he was born, when he bever had any say in it. already in his "when shooting stars fall" anecdote, he's isolated from everyone and constantly surrounded by bodyguards, and mc acted as his only source of freedom by reaching for him past that barrier.
it's also worth noting that most (if not all) of this that he's been doing, is all and always for mc, too—as if it comes back full cycle. it's how he shows his love for her, because it's really the only way he knows how to.
which also brings attention to his always and ever highlighted communication issues—because common in all of these examples up until this card, is that he's been vague about it.
never giving the full answer.
never truly explaining what he's been up to.
and it's something that mc knows; he keeps his secrets well, and they've never really truly talked about these things.
but "no restraint" plays this out a little differently.
"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."
And yet;
"I realized I was being followed, which is why I didn't contact you. I managed to shake them off, but I was concerned they might catch up to me. That's why I searched for the Protocore by myself."
—"Why are you suddenly talking about this?"
"...No reason."
xavier willingly explains.
mc doesn't particularly ask—yet he says it anyway. to clear the air, to maybe make it known that he is putting in an effort.
in this situation, he hasn't derived from his habit of going off on his own, but he provides a good explanation of it. there's mediation; he's saying that he trusts her, and he wants to ensure that there is nothing for her to be worried about.
"I just wanted to say I'm not the kind of partner who would leave you behind... I'm also not one of those young people who take things for granted, either."
and he further willingly explains when she does probe him, replying with a reflection of the excuse she gave one of the bodyguards just to be able to get information out of him.
BUT, MOSTLY—
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"i know you know" is xavier directly addressing the fact that their relationship has been curated around this trust that they've been starting to build with each other—he knows that mc was not exactly doubting him, yet he wanted to reassure her anyway, as if speaking it out loud makes it official.
sometimes you don't ask for reassurance because you know in your heart that your doubts aren't real. but receiving it never hurts—and that's how this plays out.
xavier has always known that communication has always been an issue with him.
he's willing to fix it, and willing to take that extra step to make sure mc doesn't feel unloved with him. he doesn't want to leave room for doubts.
"i know you know." i know you know i will never leave you, i know you know that i love you. i know you know, but i'll say it anyway. because i mean it. and you don't have to worry.
(LIKE DO YOU GUYS GET HOW IMPORTANT THIS LINE IS? 😭 HOW MUCH IT SAYS FOR THE EXTENT TO WHICH HE TRULY LOVES HER? 😭)
exhibit b; aloofness.
we also know that, while xavier can be pretty intense with regards to the previous point, he's always had this calm, easygoing, aloof nature to him. as if he could fade into the background, as if he's simply floating around like a little cloud—there's this aura around him that simply wants to just... be.
but, again, it's almost as if so much more hides underneath that. like it's not totally 100% inherently him. like it's not entirely natural, like the part of him that's like this is maybe somewhat a façade that he's been putting up for so long, so it's just ended up... becoming part of him, by force of habit.
there are so many subtleties to the way he seems to try to express himself—the little things. microexpressions. involuntary emotional leakage. they last for a fragment of a second, but they're there, and with xavier, they seem to always convey so much more than whatever words he can muster.... because he always finds himself short of doing it in the way he wants to.
again, it goes back to his communication issues.
he's used to being isolated. used to speaking eloquently as he does only when required, but never really quite knowing how to express affection. or, again, how to express himself in general.
"it's like he's just so used to being princely, that he can't let go of it even if he isn't a prince anymore. he wants to, but old habits die hard—he hides so much beneath that exterior still, and it's mc who's able to help him tear down those walls, mc who's able to make him want to try harder to."
and it's why we've always seen this push and pull with him. he has trouble being honest about his feelings, difficulties in telling mc he loves her, difficulties in being direct to the point with her. he'd dodge her questions, be vague about things... hints of directness, but never really pushing forward with it. he'd tease, but it falls short—mc doesn't know if he's being genuine or not. he doesn't know how to convey that. so a lot of their previous cards and previous moments have been very vague. so, so many examples, a very prime one being his lightseeker myth, because their communication issues very sincerely stuck out with that one. and the last intimate card they had—"tender nights"—and in fact, "heartstring symphony" too, very blatantly display how difficult it is for him to convey his feelings the right way.
but... again, "no restraint" plays that out a lot differently.
"If I had known, I would've kept you company until the mission ended."
"When you said no, they said— 'You're a special person. Won't you reconsider?' ... Did you reconsider?"
"'It's just a scratch. It'll heal in no time.' ... Xavier shakes his head, stands up, and leaves the room. When he returns, he's holding a box filled with bandages that have red foxes on them."
"He gets down on one knee and covers my knee with a bandage. The dim light blurs the outline of his hair ... After smoothing out the bandage, Xavier puts slippers on my feet. And then he stands up and leans against the edge of the table, shoulder to shoulder with me."
"He seems to casually glance in my direction. Noticing how I'm wearing a bathrobe, his gaze lingers on me for a second longer..."
"Does that mean you only like the bandage?"
"Before I realize it, his hand that's on the table slides over. He hooks his pinky over mine. 'I'm curious. The cupcake you mentioned—is it your favorite?'"
and...
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he's more intentional with his words and his actions this time. he wants to show her that he loves her, he wants to show her that she means a lot to him. and they're still little things, not too major, but there's a certain confidence in the way that he does it. there's sureness. it's less of those awkward moments of "should i, shouldn't i?" and there's way less hesitation.
he's insistent on holding her and taking care of her wounds. he's insistent on having her say her side of things, because he wants to know what she really thinks, too. small staps towards clearer communication—and though the tension may still be high with them in this card in general, it's a kind of tension where you can feel that they're more comfortable.
it's a stark contrast.
this is the xavier that's more than just learning, more than just realizing—he's doing.
you can really see how he's grown as a person.
(A-2) Character Development; MC
BUT it's not JUST xavier who's grown. because like in all relationships, effort comes from both sides. and the main point here, is that mc has learned to trust him a little more, too.
this part is a little shorter, but i really wanted to bring attention to two scenes and how they both play out—and i'd also like to point out the very start of the card.
the card starts off very general and sets the scene quite well, but it also starts off with mc and xavier separated. this becomes largely the topic for discussion as the card goes on, because mc does wonder where he is, and why he isn't saying anything to her.
but it's not implied anywhere that she's particularly upset about it.
in previous cards/interactions, there's always a sense of exasperation behind her words—sometimes, like in "heartstring symphony", she's upset about it. she chastises him, she sometimes makes it known that she doesn't like when he does those things—
but this time there's none of that.
she allows the mission to move smoothly, doesn't react as much once she does hear xavier contact her again... and even if it shows that she keeps wondering where he is and what he's doing, and later on what he has been doing, it's founded on curiosity instead of frustration.
"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."
this is the mc that trusts him.
this is the mc that knows she doesn't particularly need reassurance from him, and she can do without it, because she knows what no matter what, she can trust what he's been up to.
and now;
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if it wasn't obvious yet previously, this should make it.
because she's not upset—in fact, she's fond.
she recognizes that her own feelings stem from her own desire to have him with her at all times, too, but most of all, she recognizes that there's nothing to be concerned of, anyway.
she knows that in the end, the person that xavier loves is her. the person that xavier wants to protevt the most is her. the person that xavier wants to be with, as much as he can, as much as the circumstances let him—is her.
she's content with that.
she smiles at the bandage, because it's proof of it—he's just treated her wounds, so insistent on taking care of her even if she knows it's nothing but a scratch and that he doesn't even need to dote on her.
but he does.
he goes the extra stew to get a cute little bandage because he knows it'll make her smile more, too.
she knows that, and she's happy.
"You have your secrets too, but you're different from them."
in a stark contrast from the mc we've been used to before that seems a little on edge and unsure and so doubtful of so many things because there's a lot about xavier she doesn't know yet—this time, she accepts it. because they're both working towards communicating more, and being more affectionate... and there's just no reason and no need for be to be concerned.
it's a big step for her to take, and this is a surprisingly big amount of trust she's putting on him, but it's further proof of how much she—they—have grown.
"You're like.. a cupcake I tucked away so I can have you all to myself."
this is also a line that holds so much in it.
it's really struck out to me, and for a number of reasons, too— (1) it further emphasizes how content she is with him and how much she trusts him; (2) it further emphasizes her own growth with relation to how she shows affection; (3) it says a lot about the kind of special treatment she gives xavier, too.
starting with point #2—the mc we see with xavier has always been bold, always the one to initiate things.... but never truly reciprocates.
like the xavier before, mc never really follows through with what she starts. she'll tease, then pull back; initiate, and then abruptly leave him hanging. she's not much better than xavier in terms of showing affection, because although she may seem like the bolder one, the truth is that she's always been scared.
it goes back to the level of trust she has in him.
because she doesn't know too much about him, it prevents her from truly acting on her feelings—she doesn't know what to expect, doesn't know how far she's allowed to take things.
teasing remains teasing.
not this time.
we also see the level of sureness she has in her actions with the way she initiates their more intimate moments later on; she might have started out as coy, but not once did she back away from it... if not for the fact that she encourages it, even.
"I tug at his sleeve, unable to figure out whether I'm meaning to be flirty or not."
she says this, but she still continues. because she knows what she wants, and she trusts him with it.
then you bring that all together with point #3—the allusions to her own personality.
"You're like a cupcake I tucked away, so I can have you all to myself."
to me it feels less about her reciprocating his more possessive nature, and more about her views on how she's been cherishing him.
tucked away.
she uses past tense.
she could have very well said "a cupcake i tuck away"; which would imply that she frequently wants to hold him close to her to save for when they're alone.
but this is a cupcake she tucked away.
and to me it feels like she's held on to him so long... without actually appreciating him for who he is.
it's like having a pretty dessert with you, one that's too pretty to eat, so you keep for yourself for a while. and you... don't eat it. even if you're supposed to.
it's like getting a precious jewel, but you're too concerned about it being stolen from you, because it's just that precious and beautiful—so you keep it. you don't wear it, whether outside or wherever. you don't. wear it. even if you're supposed to.
and that's not appreciating them for what they are.
to me, it feels like that's how the change in tense makes mc's words appear.
a cupcake she tucked away—hasn't eaten at all. like how, with xavier, for all that she's been fond of him, she's never onve bridged the gap between them on her own, either. she's kept him at arm's length, doubted him, and everything else that comes along with all the communication issues they've always had.
this time, she recognizes it—and i'd like to think that in a way, she's also apologizing for it. she admits, out loud, to herself and to him, that she's been pretty selfish. she hasn't been treasuring him and cherishing him the way she needs to be. she hasn't been reciprocating when he's affectionate. she's been only shying away when he initiates something. she knows she's been like that, and she's saying—i'm not going to be like that anymore.
and again, it goes back to trust.
she trusts him.
and because she can trust him, she can love him how he is, for who he is.
"so i can have you all to myself" feels a lot more like, "so i can finally love you."
and then we get to this scene.
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for one thing, she doesn't deny their relationship at all; for another—their conversation on "love" feels very striking to me, too.
"but he can be a little mischievous sometimes."
"isn't that just love?"
and then...
"you're not wrong."
it's like a very direct jab at xavier and his way of being affectionate; the teasing that he does, and the way he's sometimes a little vague, sometimes a little awkward—but he's trying, and he's becoming more sure of himself, too.
and xavier's way of showing affection is truly reserved for her, because there's really none of that awkwardness with anyone else—he doesn't try so hard.
mc seems to be, here, descriving that nature of him as "mischievous".
it is, in a way.
but she also knows that it's love.
that it's his way of showing love.
she recognizes it. she accepts it.
she's learned things about him, too, and she's thinking... all of it can be compiled into this little word called love.
there is love between both of them.
and we can say that at this point, they're pretty far into their relationship.
they've gotten quite comfortable with each other—they're being touchy, the playful banter is light and easy... and they're definitely working to strengthen the bond that they have. their communication has improved SO much... i'm so proud of them 😭
it's definitely not a fully developed relationship; they're still a little shy around each other, there's still a lot of tension that's hard for them to navigate. it seems they've also yet to cross the " i love you" barrier, or at the very least, that it's difficult to say—plus, mc is exceedingly embarrassed to find xavier had overheard her conversation with the receptionist.
yet... when we move on to when they start to get intimate, it's also very interesting to me that it goes so smoothly—and it's definitely not their first time.
but it's a first something.
and it doesn't make the moment any less full of emotion.
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this particular sequence honestly had me so INCREDIBLY confused at first, because why on earth would he be trapped right;
but then you look into who xavier is and how he's been with mc, and it goes back to that—he has so, so much love for her that he simply doesn't know how to deal with it.
he's pleading her.
he's saying that if she continues drawing him in like this, what with how much he always feels for her, he's not going to be able to hold back.
it's a trap, in a way.
xavier is still trying his best to discern what it means to show love to someone—because all these years, he hasn't been able to learn that properly. and yet now that mc has fully grasped her end of the stick, now that she's confident and sure of what she wants and how much she feels for him, it's bringing forth a bubble of emotions that he can't seem to describe.
it might not be their first time, but i don't think that xavier ever moves on from what it feels like to be wanted by her like this.
it's scary, because he doesn't know how to navigate things like this.
"It's almost as if tiny flames are flickering in the depths of his gaze. They're faint yet ready to ignite my soul at any moment."
xavier, who's been raised with the notion that he has to know things, to be able to potentially lead his people as the future king of philos...
this is something he doesn't know.
and like how mc was always afraid of how uncertain she was with him, right now, he's afraid because he has so much emotion ready to burst forth that he doesn't know what to do with it.
there's an aura of disbelief that makes it so hard for him to grasp.
it's always been "i will love you in every universe"—for the both of them.
and now, he's having the full realization, maybe for the 928482857th time since they've become official, that she's saying those words back to him. that if he can love her in every universe, as every version of himself... then she can do the same for him.
she wants to do the same for him.
she is doing the same for him.
"she loves me."
"she wants me."
he's pleading with her to take what she wants, because she has all of him.
and then we go back to mc's confidence—because she realizes he wants this to proceed in exactly the same way she wants it to, and she's willing to become his undoing.
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and even if he technically switches and takes charge in the next second, it comes to fruition that her giving him consent in this way is what breaks him free of that bubble.
"don't hold back", is all that this is, really.
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and he doesn't.
and it's just, not really just about the tension they've built up to get to this moment—the coy excuse of using the protocore's supposed effects—there's so much that goes into it, with the way they feel, with how their desires are so blatantly displayed just like that, with how their love fuels how much they need each other.
it's almost funny, in a way, because it's as if both of them are saying "take me, i'm yours." at the same time. and then it becomes less about possession... and more of a complete and utter surrender to each other.
and i think that's beautiful.
(which also. BONUS? but if this doesn't signify how focused xavier is on giving pleasure and at the same time how easy it is for him to lose himself in the moment and feel good because you're feeling good—i don't know what else will ✋)
(also like. the aftercare... the morning cuddles.... the hickey mc left on him 😭 i love them so much..........)
IN CONCLUSION . . . . THIS CARD MADE ME FEEL MANY THINGS.
THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK 😭✋
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your-favblondie ¡ 10 months ago
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'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'
(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)
Word Count: 625
Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!
Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.
He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.
He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.
"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"
His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)
He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.
Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)
his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.
When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )
At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!
uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...
" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"
now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it
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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.
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