#and then taking a picture in the case of an x ray

[jojojooo33]

Would restarting someone's heart with an electric shock with alchemy (like a defibrillator) or doing an X-ray with it count as human transmutation

[gutsby]

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Pairing: Reader x Detective Dixon x Officer Grimes x Officer Walsh

Summary: Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Warnings: NSFW. Foursome! :-) Unprotected p-in-v, spitroast, double penetration, overstimulation, praise and degradation, bimbofication, throatfucking, painal, breeding kink, using c*m as lube, and a (consensual) strugglefuck. Elements of dubcon à la power imbalance and coercion. Age gap. Public indecency, evading arrest, assault on two cops, and general drunken stupidity.

“Goooooood morning, babycakes!”

Your best friend rolled the hem of her shirt over her chest and shimmied her shoulders at the big white semi truck about to pass under the bridge. The stranger at the wheel took one look at the woman’s tits and almost swerved across two lanes of traffic. The sight sent you and your drunken group howling with laughter, falling onto the ground as Maggie yanked her top back down.

It was five a.m. and freezing. The club where you’d been boozing all night had long since shuttered closed, and you and your closest friends from high school—home for the holidays and happily plastered—had gone wandering home in a daze. When one of the girls had stopped suddenly at the midsection of a bridge, you hadn’t been able to keep from sharing her smile the second she’d grinned and said, ‘For old time’s sake?’

In no time at all, you’d been lined up along the metal railing and ogling the unsuspecting drivers down below. The freeway was mostly empty at this hour, save for a couple tractor trailers and early morning commuters, but that didn’t matter.

Rosita was up next. You watched her eye an RV as it bumbled down the road and saw her take hold of her shirt just like Maggie had. Then, right when the camper got close enough, the brunette bent slightly at the waist, flipped her top up, and screamed at the top of her lungs:

“HEY BIG RED!”

A big, buff dude with a bright red handlebar mustache looked up from the passenger seat, as did the white-haired, bearded gentleman wearing a bucket hat beside him. The pair then watched your friend’s roadside spectacle with shared looks of wonder and awe, before passing under the bridge as slow as they possibly could. Rosita staggered off the ledge and reached for the flask in your hand, heedless of her breasts still hanging out.

“Your turn,” she chirped before taking a swig.

Your feet were already wobbling onto the concrete slab. From your vantage point, the outline of the sun was just then breaking out across the tops of the trees, casting the morning’s first rays across your bare skin. You stretched your arms out wide, Titanic-style, and basked in the warmth—likely looking drunk as all hell as you did.

“Ooo, this one, this one!” Maggie cut in presently.

You followed your friend’s gaze and caught sight of a sleek, glistening firetruck speeding down the road.

Perfect, you thought as your eyes soaked in the sight. You pictured the truck packed to the gills with hot and sweaty firemen inside, and your fingers itched at the bottom of your shirt. Curled under the fabric and ready to lift as soon as the time came. Even from a distance, you could make out a tiny cluster of uniformed men at the helm, each of their faces contorted with curiosity.

The truck sped up and drew closer. Maggie squeezed your hip, Rosita chewed her lip, and together, you all stared the firetruck down with bated breath until it was just about to go under the bridge.

In a blink, you flipped your shirt up and shook your tits back and forth for the men going by. Much to your surprise, the firefighter in the driver’s seat honked his horn a couple times, and another one, at the rear, stuck his grinning head out the window and waved.

You, Maggie, and Rosita waved right back, practically falling over each other in fits of laughter as you yelled,

“Call me, daddy!”

The three of you collapsed on the sidewalk in a heap of shitfaced hysterics. Rosita flung your flask to the side and smacked you playfully across your boobs—still out and proud and likely able to cut diamonds with how hard your nipples had gotten in the chilly morning air.

“Daddy?!” she wheezed, “You skank!”

You straightened up, partially splayed across Maggie’s lap, and wiggled your shoulders once more, feigning that high-pitched, ditzy voice you used whenever you were hammered,

“Daddy please fuck my titties, I’ve been such a bad girl!”

Then you gave the best porn star moan you could muster and started to pull your shirt the rest of the way off. Not thinking, you balled up the light pink fabric and threw it up in the air while Rosita cheered—‘Tits out for the girls!’—and Maggie almost pissed herself laughing. Really anything would’ve had your sides fit to split at this point, seeing how faded and adrenaline-drunk you were.

You reached up and waited for the top to fall back into your hand...until it didn’t. You cast a sweeping look across the three of you to see if your shirt had landed somewhere else, but the garment was nowhere in sight.

You turned and craned your neck to see over the railing.

“Shit!”

You scrambled to your feet and gripped the metal siding of the bridge, tits fully out and exposed to the world. You watched as an old Ford Ranger picked up speed and crushed the scrap of fabric under its tires, before the driver, in turn, gawked and honked his horn like a fool.

Just as you started to turn back to tell your friends the bad news—and beg them for a piece of spare clothing to cover you—a sound startled you all.

The short, sharp yelp of a siren straight ahead.

Your hands flew to cover your chest while Maggie and Rosita went floundering over each other trying to get up. A few yards away, a police cruiser had pulled up to the side of the bridge with its lights flashing bright red and blue.

Shit, again, seemed to be the resounding sentiment among you three as the car started inching closer.

“Stop right there!” a voice boomed over the PA system.

That only prompted your group to take off running.

You, cradling your tits in both hands, and Rosita and Maggie trying desperately not to trip over the curb, the wayside trash, or each other as they raced down the street.

Two car doors flew open. Then, the sound of that same voice, breaking out across the still morning air without the aid of the intercom and telling you to freeze right now, followed by the sound of footsteps. Boots thudded heavy on the ground below, moving fast and with purpose. Both pairs easily gained on your three retreating forms in a matter of seconds.

Maggie and Rosita were already leaps and bounds ahead of you. Too busy juggling your tits and struggling to breathe, you felt your heart sink.

Rosita shot a look over her shoulder and cried, ‘C’mon!’ as she eyed the cops coming closer.

I’m trying, you wanted to say, but couldn’t speak. Your chest was too tight, pupils blown wide with fear.

This was not the fucking time to be having a panic attack. But here you were.

Before you could stop yourself, you waved a frantic hand to your friends and somehow managed to scream, ‘Go!’

The girls slowed, tried to urge you forward, but, sensing that you weren’t keeping up and wanted them to go on without you, relented at last. They bounded off toward a side street and disappeared down an alley while you felt your legs start to falter beneath you.

“Freeze!” the voice bellowed again. Loud, gruff, and much closer to your ear than it had been before.

You did as he said, not because you wanted to, but because you had to, then, or your body would’ve given out. Still in the grips of terror and rampant intoxication, you stopped in your tracks, spun on your heels, and watched the two officers sprint toward you.

You started to raise your hands in surrender, but just when one of them approached—presumably to tackle you to the ground—your instincts took over. You scarcely knew what you were doing; you just felt your leg lift with the last bit of strength you had left, then, astonishingly, deliver a kick straight to the first man’s gut.

To the shock of you, the cop, and his partner, the man went tumbling backward. Fell straight on the pavement in almost comical fashion and grunted in pain.

“Rick!” the dark-haired one yelled reflexively.

His gaze darted back to you in an instant.

You knew you were capital F fucked. You didn’t bother trying to run and simply stared at the man left standing in a mixture of horror and dread as he charged straight at you.

Your flight response abandoned, you had only to fight. And, by the looks of your opponent, you sensed this motherfucker knew how to tussle.

Before you could even prime yourself for another kick, the cop had taken you down with one lunge. Pinned you flat on the asphalt and yelled right in your face,

“I said don’t move!”

You moved. You moved in his arms while he wrestled you to the sidewalk, snaked his hand around your front, pressed your back against his chest. You moved when he barked his orders once more, told you to get down now and stop resisting, and even wrapped his arm around your throat to force your compliance.

Chokehold’s illegal, asshole, you thought, fighting hard against his grasp. This cop played dirty, and appeared to give no fucks about who could see.

Just as his grip started to tighten around your neck, you heard the other officer back on his feet, talking sharply into his radio:

“Code 10-33. Requesting backup on Fayette Bridge.”

At the same time, the man above you was trying to shake his head, craning his neck to get his partner’s attention.

“Nah, nah, Rick, I got her!”

When ‘Rick’ didn’t seem to hear and kept shouting into the receiver, the burly cop turned his body to the side, squeezing your neck even tighter.

“Rick!” he called, “I got her right here, she’s— FUCK!”

Suddenly, the man’s voice broke off in a strangled yelp as you sank your teeth into the flesh of his arm. When he loosened his grip out of instinct, stinging with pain, you made a desperate attempt to slip from his grasp and get back on your hands and knees.

The freshly bitten cop just slammed you even harder on the ground, unleashing a string of expletives in your ear.

“Fuck you, pig!” you screamed back.

You weren’t sure what had come over you in the few short moments preceding this one—what had irked you so terribly to be inclined to kick one cop in the stomach and bite another on the arm like a feral cat—but there you went. Face down on the pavement with a set of handcuffs being clipped over your wrists.

You winced when you were jerked back onto your feet, the cop’s left hand on your shoulder and the other at your back. He shoved you to take your first steps forward, you instinctively told him to eat shit and die, and as a grim, unsavory unit, you walked toward the officer with his grip still fastened tight to his radio.

“You alright?” Rick asked, out of breath.

His gaze seared right through you to his partner—whose face, you could sense, was already beset with a scowl.

“Bitch bit me,” he spat.

You saw Rick’s expression change, watched his mouth move to speak again, when a sound crackled out of the receiver in his hand. A couple code words and street names you couldn’t make out.

“That’s— that’s alright, now, Officer Walsh has the subject restrained,” Rick returned hastily.

At present, Mr. Walsh had his thumb dug deep in your back, ostensibly holding tight to keep you subdued but more than likely just being an ass. He felt you flinch and gave you a fierce shake.

“Quit squirmin’, girl.”

“Quit pinchin’ me, pig!”

“You’d best watch that fuckin’ mouth’a yours.”

The voice above your ear had you easily outmatched in volume and tone, coarse as it was unkind.

You decided to try your luck anyway.

“Make me, pussy.”

The last thing you saw was the look of bewilderment leap to Rick’s face as Walsh thrust you forward, suddenly, and slammed you face-down on the hood of their car.

“What’d I say ‘bout that fuckin’ mouthin’ off?! Huh?”

“Shane—”

Rick grabbed this Shane’s shoulder in an effort to intervene. Tried prying him off before he could shove you down any harder, but his partner seemed adamant. Shane put his palm over the side of your head and knotted his fingers through your hair, quick to pull.

“Nah, man, I ain’t takin’ lip from some halfwit bimbo—”

“Hey!” you started, only to have your words muffled with your head forced back on the hood.

“Shane!” Rick snapped this time, taking a harder grip of his shirt and yanking him back. To your dismay, Shane kept a chunk of your hair clenched in his fist and probably dislodged a dozen or more strands when he was pulled away.

You let out a gentle groan as your head hit the car for a third time and the two officers broke off in a skirmish.

“You heard what Dixon said,” Rick hissed.

“Fuck what Dixon said!”

“You cain’t just— you got no right—”

“I got every right, man, lemme tell you sumn’—”

Before Shane could ‘tell you’ much of anything, though, the two were rendered silent by the sound of tires on pavement close by. A halt, a tense moment, a car door swinging open and closed, and a whisper passed quickly from Rick to Shane as the two exchanged a look,

“You fucked up.”

You tried tilting your head up toward the windshield to sneak a look in its reflection, maybe see who was coming. You couldn’t make out a thing.

Then, presently, the voice of a much more hushed, humbler Officer Walsh as he spoke,

“Detective Dixon, how’s it—”

“Six bucks.” Another man, presumably Dixon, cut in.

“Huh?”

“Six bucks fer this fuckin’ coffee. Tastes like dirt.”

Oh, uh, yeah, you could just sense Shane shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he searched for the right words to say, maybe scratched his head once or twice. Fortunately for him, Rick came to the rescue.

“Tried that new place on Main, huh?”

“Nic and Norman’s, yeah. Eggs were runny as shit an’ the waitress kept callin’ me ‘Dale’,” the man, now presumably Dixon but not Dale, said in a huff.

It was as if you weren’t lying flat on your tummy with your top off and your hands cuffed behind your back. You stupidly hoped the new man hadn’t noticed you.

“Well who’ve we got here?”

Shit.

You heard footsteps approach, but you didn’t turn your head. Your lungs expelled a small, shaky breath as this detective came by and stood inches from your bent form.

“She and her friends were flashing their tits to the cars passing under the bridge,” Shane declared, a touch too smug as he said it, “The others got away, but this one was sweet enough to grace us with her presence.”

“Kicked me in the stomach and knocked me on my ass,” Rick added.

“Bit me, too.”

You heard a low tsk-tsk as the detective clicked his tongue. Took another sip of his mud-flavored espresso and shook his head above you. Your skin burned with the imprint of his gaze.

“Spring break come a little late this year?” he teased.

“Fuck you,” you muttered.

The men let out a collective chuckle at your tart words. You could just picture the smirks and sly glances shared between them as they watched you writhe against the hood of the police cruiser and try not to give them the satisfaction of seeing your breasts splayed out underneath you.

You were ashamed, admittedly, unsure of how to proceed with three cops at your rear and few options at your disposal besides swearing up a storm. At last, you decided to shift your gaze in their direction and shoot them a glare—more of an empty threat than any real message, but you didn’t care.

You turned and immediately wished you hadn’t.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Daryl?!”

This time, Rick and Shane were the only ones to laugh out loud, before quickly stifling the sounds when they realized their superior hadn’t shown a hint of amusement.

Daryl Dixon, the detective, and your brother’s best friend from college, stared down at you with a look of horror.

“Y/N,” he stammered, in shock.

It was clear he was trying with every fiber of his being not to look down at your tits, but his resolve was only so strong. Finally, he settled on looking away, fast, and staring off in the distance while you readjusted yourself.

“Been a minute,” he said, trying for a curt, awkward nod.

And a minute it had been. The last time you’d laid eyes on the man had been at a Christmas party hosted by your brother and his husband four years ago. You’d exchanged all of ten words in polite, drunken pleasantries, and he’d stumbled off at the end of the night with a gorgeous redhead dressed as Mrs. Clause. You hadn’t heard hide nor hair of him since.

For a moment, Rick’s eyes danced indeterminately between you two. Shane’s remained fixed on your face.

“You know this little hellion, Detective?”

Daryl cleared his throat.

“Yeah, uh, that’s— that’s Aaron’s little sister.”

“No shit?”

The words came out faster than Shane could think to stop them. Your hometown was no great metropolis, and even he knew of your brother through a friend-of-a-friend and several cousins’ babysitter’s grandma’s Aunt Carol, or some similar relation. He and Rick had probably partied at your lake house a couple times in college.

“Uncuff her.” Daryl’s voice had already lowered some, pacing away to give you privacy.

Shane obliged and freed you from the handcuffs. When you turned around, only the back of Daryl’s body was visible to you as he ducked inside the backseat of his car.

He returned a few moments later with a blanket. Tried his damndest not to let his vision stray an inch from your face as he handed it to you. Then he beckoned Rick over, and the two exchanged a few quiet words by his sedan.

“You got rabies or anything?” Shane was eyeing the tiny crescent of teeth marks on his forearm.

You rolled your eyes.

“Worse. I’m one of those walkers.”

Shane gave you a look that conveyed he was just as annoyed but didn’t say anything more, even when you made a face at him. He just crossed his arms, leaned back against the squad car, and gritted his teeth. Before you knew it, Daryl and Rick were walking back.

“I’ll take her to the station,” Daryl said.

“Alri—”

“What?” you cried, “For what?!”

You knew for damn what. You just couldn’t believe your brother’s best friend wasn’t planning on giving you a family friend freebie of some kind.

Officer Walsh supplied an answer for you nonetheless, “Let’s see, now: public intoxication, public indecency, open container, and aggravated assault on two police officers. That clear things up, sweet cheeks?”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Disorderly conduct, too,” Rick chimed in. Trying not to smile as he said it.

The only ones still not amused by anything this situation had to offer were you and Daryl. The detective looked positively pissed and ready to chuck his cup of coffee over the bridge, while you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ether. The two of you exchanged a brief, uneasy look and quickly looked the other way.

Rick and Shane were already retreating to their cruiser. You just watched them, almost forlorn, and pretended not to see Daryl signaling for you to follow him.

“C’mon now,” he murmured.

“Can’t you just let me off with a warning?”

Daryl was treading closer to you now, hand outstretched in an almost gentle sort of gesture. Like he wasn’t about to cart you off to the slammer.

“Y’know I can’t do tha’,” he replied, “With all the fuss ya caused, Captain would have my head.”

When you wrenched your arm away from his grasp, you saw him frown.

“Hey,” Daryl said, a little more sternly now, “Don’t make this harder than it needs ta be.”

You watched him reach for you again.

Your first instinct was to shrug him off. Your second was to flee.

You weren’t sure why you even tried it—it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment, like they did in the movies, to take off sprinting down the street. You gave it a shot.

Unfortunately for you, your feet didn’t carry you far, and Daryl had you snagged in his arms in about five seconds flat. You glanced to the first cop car and saw that Rick and Shane hadn’t even stirred from their seats. Just grinning and laughing at your attempted escape.

Detective Dixon had you by the bicep now, leading you toward his car with a little more force in his step. You were cursing, writhing, fighting every effort of his to corral you into the backseat, but, without much trouble, he pushed you in.

Rear doors locking automatically, you had little more to do than sit and pout and feel every bit the brat as Daryl buckled himself in and started the car.

“C’mon, Dar, this isn’t a joke. I could lose my job ‘cause of this,” you whined, threading your fingers through the wired metal barricade that separated you.

Daryl watched and waited for the other cruiser to fall behind him. Then he started off.

“Shoulda thought about tha’ before ya decided to show yer tits off ta the world, no?”

“Like four people saw us.”

In the rearview mirror, you could’ve sworn you saw a ghost of a smile cross Daryl’s lips.

“I got a pretty colorful phone call from a man named Eugene saying he saw three girls danglin’ half nekkid from a bridge tryin’ ta flag down a firetruck...Don’t sound all that discreet to me.” Daryl shrugged, pretending not to see you slump back in your seat.

“We were drunk!” you cried.

You threw your hands up and let them fall at your side, while Daryl made a wide left turn.

“So?”

“You’ve done plenty of dumb shit when you were drunk, Dixon. Don’t even start.” You raised your hand like you were talking to your mother as an angsty teen. The man in the driver’s seat hardly seemed fazed.

“Oh?”

You paused a beat, then jolted back up as an old memory stirred in your mind.

“Like— like the time you got so shitfaced on senior night that you stumbled into my room thinking it was the bathroom,” you said, hastily, “Pissed all over my floor.”

Daryl’s eyes darted up to meet yours in the mirror, sharing in that vague and ugly recollection from his college days.

“That was yer room?” he winced.

“I was twelve and terrified,” you said, hovering as close as the metal wall would allow you, “Didn’t even know what being piss-drunk meant until you decided to relieve yourself all over my Barbie rug.”

“Ah shit...I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Let me out and we’ll call it even?” you ventured.

“Nuh-uh,” Daryl said, shaking his head, “Not how that works.”

You balled your hand in a fist and struck the wall between you, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips. Try as you might to fight it, you were still slightly buzzed and far more prone to anger than you normally would be. Daryl gave you a look.

“Pipe down, princess, ‘s’ain’t the end of the world.”

“And who the fuck are you to say?” you snapped, clenching your jaw.

Daryl pressed a bit harder on the brakes as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. Then he shot a look over his shoulder. His brow drew in just slightly.

“Yer a real brat, ya know that?”

“Really, pig?” you sneered.

“Yeah, slut.”

Your mouth fell open at the sound of Daryl’s first real insult. He’d been all placid smiles and gentle eyes, never lapsing in the civility of his rank or his respect for you, his close friend’s sister, until that point. You watched as his gaze visibly hardened and moved away from yours, foot hitting the gas when the light turned green.

“What did you just call me?”

“A fucking slut. ‘Cause tha’s what ya are,” Daryl answered, not missing a beat.

Had he lost his fucking mind? Who did he think he was? The man carried on, starting to increase the car’s speed,

“Nobody’s showin’ off a pair’a tits that damn pretty ‘less they’re a whore, ya know?”

You sat back in awe, hardly aware of the cruiser’s growing acceleration, or the fact that Daryl was just then starting to turn down a road you—and Rick and Shane—had never seen before. You were too offended. Flustered.

“Excuse m—”

“Yeah, I looked. You’ve got an incredible rack, really,” Daryl admitted as he cut you off, “Too bad it’s attached to such a worthless little slut.”

“Get fucked, Dixon,” you hissed, beating your fist against the divider once more.

“Oh, believe me, we will.”

Your blood likely would’ve run cold in your veins if you had the first clue what he was talking about. What did he mean by ‘we’? Why had he started smiling when he’d said that?

Presently, you looked out the window.

Where the everliving fuck had he taken you?

Instead of finding yourself parked outside the King County Sheriff’s Department, as expected, you cast a sidelong glance to the left and the right and saw nothing but trees. Wilderness. You were parked in a clearing, at what appeared to be a campground...in a quarry?

You turned back to Daryl, suddenly rigid with fear.

The driver’s side door was already slamming shut behind him. Instead of deigning so much as a glance at the back, he strode right past you and went over to the car that had just pulled up. Rick and Shane appeared just as confused as you were as they came to a stop.

You watched them, dumbstruck, pulse pounding in your ears as a hundred different thoughts danced in your mind and grew progressively darker the longer you stared. Were they going to torture you? Kill you? Cuff you to the car and kick the living shit out of you until you bled from the mouth and begged them for mercy?

There was no way the drunken fratboy of your youth, now a detective on the police force and your brother’s best friend, would do something so heinous, right?

You slinked back in your seat when you saw all three men turn and approach your car.

Now, more than ever, there was no place but the police car you wanted to be as Daryl flung the back door open and stuck his head inside.

“Hey,” he grinned, “Wanna talk?”

Before you knew it, your feet were planted on the rocky terrain directly in front of Daryl’s car, and your hands were clasped together. Not cuffed this time—just folded and trying to look as polite and unassuming as possible.

“We’ve got a proposition,” Daryl started, steady.

You watched him pace back and forth while the two other officers stood back in silence. Shane wore the faintest smirk.

“You don’t wanna go to jail, right?”

You shook your head no.

“Good, ‘cause we don’t really feel like bookin’ ya,” Daryl continued, “Too much paperwork an’ all tha’ bullshit.”

You nodded along, slowly. Relieved to hear you weren’t getting arrested but waiting to see what the ‘But…’ was.

“But, y’know— it wouldn’t be fair to let ya go that easy.”

You kept nodding. Now looking at Shane and Rick and finding both of them smiling.

“So I say we make ourselves a deal. That okay with you, sugar tits?” Daryl sneered.

You balked at the name but swallowed your pride and answered, ‘Uh huh’ in a small voice. Squeezed your hands even tighter together.

Daryl approached you for the first time. You stood there, trembling, still thinking there was a chance that the three of them might just beat the hell out of you right then and there—and you flinched when Daryl lifted his hand to your cheek.

He brushed a few loose hairs from your face.

“I think you need to start by saying sorry.” His voice was almost serene.

You blinked a couple times up at Daryl with wide, oblivious eyes, shaking your head when you didn’t understand what he meant.

“To Shane,” Daryl added.

Softly, he tilted your chin toward his friend, who was grinning even bigger now.

You struggled for a second, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before stammering:

“I-I’m sorry, Shane.”

Your voice barely reached them in a whisper. You were so confused.

And, just as you started to wonder if that was all they really wanted, or if there’d be some other catch, Daryl decided to supply you with a wordless answer before you could even ask. The “catch” caught you right on the backs of your legs as Daryl gave them a gentle kick, causing both to buckle underneath you. You fell to the ground on your hands and knees and straightened yourself up just in time to see Shane make his leisurely approach.

“I’m sorry, Shane,” you spluttered again, thinking he just wanted you to grovel there in front of him.

Daryl and Shane exchanged looks. Then they smirked at you.

“I think Shane would rather you show him how sorry you are,” Daryl said, suddenly leaning over to collect two handfuls of hair behind your head, “With your mouth.”

At any other time, such condescension dripping from a man’s tone would have turned you off—and pissed you off—immediately. With Daryl and Shane standing over you now, the former’s fingers slotting through your hair and the latter’s working to unzip his pants, you couldn’t imagine yourself being any more aroused.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, all at once.

They were there to fuck you, not fight you.

At least not in the way you’d imagined anyway. No doubt Shane was keen to get his fill, and might be a tad more aggressive than the others to get it, but Daryl would make sure he didn’t push too hard. He held your head in place while Shane pulled out his cock.

And, you hated to say it, but your mouth was salivating for a taste. You couldn’t be bothered to look up at either man now, just soaking in the sight of Shane’s thick, veiny member and feeling your face being moved closer to it. Not minding you were being manhandled as a gentle moan escaped your throat.

“Wanna show Shane how sorry ya are? Show him how good tha’ slutty little mouth’a yers can make him feel?” Daryl hummed.

“She’s droolin’, man,” Shane said, hardening at the sight.

You were. You couldn’t help it. You felt a thumb swipe at the spit that had just begun to trickle out of your mouth and sensed Rick at your side, enthralled as all the rest of them. Then that same finger drifted down to your tits, smearing the moisture all over one nipple before pinching the peak between two digits.

Your lips parted with another small whimper at the sensation, and Shane took that as his window to thrust his cock in your mouth. Caught off guard, you couldn’t help but gag when his tip hit the back of your throat, but Daryl steered your head back just in time so you weren’t choking on that first, single stroke.

“Easy, easy,” Daryl chided his friend as he watched your eyes water and your hand reach up to steady yourself against Shane’s thigh.

“You kiddin’? She fuckin’ loves it,” Shane grinned, “Don’t you, slut?”

You licked your lips and nodded. Didn’t bat an eye when Shane brought the head of his cock back down to your lips, and you quickly enveloped him in an open-mouthed kiss of sorts. Shane groaned at the sensation and couldn’t help but rut his hips.

“Such a fuckin’ whore,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Daryl helped move your head up and down his length while you stared up at Shane with the prettiest, most fucked-out expression you could manage, and you felt his length twitch in your mouth. Daryl pulled you off.

“Now what do we say for kicking Officer Grimes, hm?”

Before you could answer, your face was tilted to the left, and you were met with the sight of Rick stroking his length at your side. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to Shane’s cock, you looked up at the friendlier of the two officers and gave him a smile.

“I’m sorry, Officer Grimes.”

This time, Daryl let Rick take the reins, for a moment, and move your mouth over his shaft. You happily accepted him between your lips and started bobbing almost instantly. You relished the pleasure that flooded those soft blue eyes, the way they winced just a little when you took him to the back of your throat. Like he wanted to fuck your face but felt too overcome with some feeling or fear to give it a try.

You decided it was cruel to make a man so polite wait a second longer than he needed to. Presently, you pulled off Rick’s length with a gentle ‘pop’ and turned your head back over to Daryl.

“Can you please tell Officer Grimes to fuck my throat?”

All three of them froze for a second, taken back by the filth that had just come out of your mouth, still spoken so sweetly. You stroked Rick’s cock and pretended to be oblivious of what you saw. Deep down, you knew by the glint in their eyes they were yearning, lusting, fucking you in their minds with every innocent blink you made. You felt Daryl’s grip tighten in your hair.

“You heard the lady,” Shane said, words directed to Rick but gaze never leaving you.

Out of habit, his hand came to wrap around his own cock as he watched you take Rick’s. You glanced between the two of them, placed a quick kiss on the tip—first on Rick’s and then, to the men’s surprise, on Shane’s—and parted your lips when you moved back to Rick.

Officer Grimes didn’t hesitate this time. He leveled himself with your mouth and pushed all the way in. You started to moan, but the sound was audibly cut short by a spasm in your throat. Rick reached the back of your warm, wet orifice with ease and, going further than Shane ever went, actually slid down that space. Exactly how you wanted him. You bobbed your head and hummed to show your appreciation.

Encouraged by how eagerly you swallowed him and how quick your whimpers were to reverberate down his length, Rick moved his hips. Watched you gag once or twice and blink through a couple tears, before Daryl wiped the moisture away as Rick had done for your spit. You were every bit the pampered and primped fuckdoll in their hands, bobbing and licking and sucking him dry.

“Good girl,” Daryl murmured, massaging your scalp when you gagged again.

“Takin’ me so well,” Rick groaned as he fed you another inch.

Shane continued pumping his cock, grunting out expletives, and watching you all the while.

You pulled off of Rick for a moment. Whether it would piss them off or turn them on, you didn’t really care—but you reached up to Shane and replaced his hand with yours, before dropping a kiss over the head of his cock.

All three men seemed to love it. Especially Daryl.

Though he hadn’t made a move to get his own dick wet just yet, you got the sense the man loved to watch. Loved to see your mouth sliding up and down and swallowing more cock every time, thinking to himself what a nasty, filthy little whore you were and just waiting for the moment it would be his turn to claim your throat and the rest of your holes as his own. In the meantime, you wanted to give him a good show.

You jerked both Rick and Shane in either hand and chanced a look over at Daryl.

Locking eyes with him, you moved down over Rick and sucked half his length in your mouth. Then, just as quick, you took Shane between your lips and gave the tip a wet, spongy kiss before taking him to the back of your throat. The mound in Daryl’s pants grew even more pronounced.

“Hey,” Rick said, grazing your cheek with his knuckles, “Ain’t you gonna say sorry to Detective Dixon, too?”

You moaned against Shane’s throbbing length and made sure Daryl saw your tongue swirl over the tip. Teasing him now.

Presently, Shane pulled out of your mouth and grabbed hold of your hair.

“Gonna make him feel real good with that slutty little mouth’a yours, huh?” he growled.

You nodded and smiled. Wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and started crawling over to Daryl as soon as Shane let you go.

You couldn’t believe he’d waited this long—couldn’t believe you’d been sucking his friends dry all this time and hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse at him. Daryl watched you with a comfortable, lopsided sort of smirk as you made your way over to him, clearly enjoying this view of you on all fours.

Not even a guillotine could take away the head you were about to give this man.

When you finally reached his knees and straightened up enough to reach for the zip of his brown slacks, you felt a hand catch you around the wrist. To your surprise, Daryl held you back and yanked you onto your feet.

“I wan’ my apology someplace else.”

That ‘place,’ you would come to learn, was simply on top of his car. Splayed out on the hood of his cruiser with your pants dragged all the way down to your ankles and kicked off at your feet. Daryl carried you there and stripped you down to your panties, leaving you all but naked and ogling him with keen, hungry eyes. Rick and Shane were quick to follow suit and seemed just as eager as you were to watch this scene unfold.

You reached for his clothed erection once more but found your hand swatted away.

“Nuh-uh,” Daryl shook his head.

You raised an eyebrow in question. You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself moaning instead when Daryl slipped a finger past your panties and between your folds. Somehow finding your clit quicker than you could even dream, he circled that tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb and teased the seal of your entrance with his middle and ring fingers.

You clawed at his wrist.

“But Dar— I-I wanna taste you so bad,” you pleaded.

Daryl grinned and plunged his two fingers deep inside you, holding your hip to the car to keep you from squirming. He nodded to Rick, who took that as his cue to press down on your other side. Together, they had you pinned to the hood and helpless under their touch.

Daryl curled his fingers up and caused you to moan.

“How bad?” he asked.

“So—” your voice broke off in a gasp when the pads of his fingers stroked your G spot, “So bad, Daryl, please.”

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was savoring every second of this sight: you with your legs spread, begging and pathetic as he and Rick held you down. He probably would’ve liked to keep you there a little longer, maybe teased and fingerfucked you to the point of tears, but he got the sense that his friends weren’t possessed of quite the same patience. He’d just have to save the overstimulation for later.

Before you knew it, Daryl had given Rick another quick nod, released you from his hold, and pulled you off the car—before steadying you back on your feet, facing the vehicle.

Your hands flew out to catch yourself, but, before meeting metal, intercepted Daryl’s broad form instead. He took a seat on the front end of the car and caught you in both of his big, calloused palms.

“How ‘bout that taste, hm?” He was already starting to unbuckle his pants.

Finally. You promptly started to sink to your knees, when a light slap struck your cheek. You peeked up at its source and found Daryl shaking his head once more.

“Stay put,” he instructed as he started to pull his cock out of his boxers, “Rick’s gonna fuck tha’ slutty little cunt while ya suck me off, alright?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a signal—and an effective one at that—to get Rick off his ass and hurrying to get behind yours. In the next second, you felt a set of warm, calloused hands on your hips and a tender grip tugging you back to meet someone’s crotch.

Your pussy twitched with the realization of your current predicament: bent over between the two men, with Daryl’s cock mere inches from your face and Rick’s member throbbing above your heat. Never once had an image like this materialized in your mind’s wildest fantasies, but now that you were here, stuck between these two with Shane just then drawing closer, you found yourself turned on to no end.

You parted your lips to allow Daryl entry when Rick teased the head of his cock up your slit. You took just the tip of Daryl, trying to stifle a moan, and the man behind you rubbed the length of himself up and down the seam of your cunt to collect all your juices. Another inch of Daryl in your mouth and you were whimpering with the feeblest look up at him, needing Rick inside you too.

Daryl held your gaze and ran a hand over your head.

“Little slut needs her pussy fucked, does she?”

You nodded, bobbing gently over Daryl’s member. You were just preparing to ease him in another inch or two when all of a sudden, the head of his cock jumped to the back of your throat as Rick thrusted into you.

It was far less gentle than you’d expected, sending you deep down Daryl’s length and causing you to gag. You hardly had time to adjust, or pull off of the man in front of you to catch your breath, when Rick started pounding you from behind. Rutting his hips, grunting in time with his thrusts, and slapping your ass in quick, ruthless hits. Daryl groaned above you as you had no choice but to deepthroat him again and again.

Shane, ever impatient, approached your free hand and guided it toward his erection. He wrapped your fingers around his cock and helped you stroke him quick, all while your mouth and pussy were presently occupied by Daryl and Rick’s sloppy thrusts.

“Ya like gettin’ spitroasted, huh? Like gettin’ fucked in two holes at once?” Shane sneered.

“Fuckin’ loves it,” Rick answered for you with a smirk, “Never seen a pussy this wet in my life.”

You imagined all of them could see and hear the arousal oozing from your freshly-fucked cunt, but you sensed no one liked it better than Daryl. The man was entranced with the sight of your form getting fucked from behind, sucking him deeper, looking up through your wet, tear-stained lashes as you let him fuck your face. That pure euphoric look in his eyes was almost like a drug—you wanted nothing more than to keep it there as long as you could.

Mere minutes later, Rick’s hips were stuttering against your own and his cum was spraying all over your insides. You didn’t stop sucking Daryl.

Shane gladly switched places with Rick and took a greedy handful of your hips before pumping his cock once or twice. You flattened your tongue against Daryl’s member and took him even further down your throat.

The man behind you was panting, right about to breach your folds when a sight below him held him in place.

Rick’s load was just then starting to dribble out of your pussy, leaving a long white trail of milky residue down your slit.

Shane clenched his jaw.

“Still hungry for more, slut?” he said through gritted teeth. To your surprise, you felt his fingertips trace the outline of your cunt and start moving up toward your other hole.

He was coating your asshole with Rick’s cum, grinning when you flinched.

“Think she’s ever been fucked in the ass before?” Shane asked the others. He slipped a digit inside your hole and watched you moan on Daryl’s dick.

Daryl pulled you off his cock and held you by your hair, your mouth saturated with strings of fresh saliva.

“Have you?”

You swallowed and shook your head. Daryl didn’t let his gaze linger on you another second. He signaled to Rick.

“Right there,” he pointed with his chin.

You hardly knew what was going on or where Rick had hastened off to. All you could comprehend was the gruff tone of Daryl’s voice telling you to get up, now, and the feel of Shane’s hands still holding you, guiding you back to your feet. When you didn’t move fast enough for his liking, Shane simply swept you up in his arms bridal-style and started carrying you himself.

Over his shoulder, you spied Daryl and Rick exchanging words and the latter placing the blanket you’d worn earlier on the ground. You almost felt tempted to ask Shane what they were planning to do, just starting to speak, when the man brought you over to the spot and set you right down.

The three of them had you circled in an instant.

Before the question could even form on your lips, you watched Daryl join you on the blanket. His smirk was evident.

He patted his lap for you to come straddle him.

When he started to lie down, your hands followed suit, eager to rest on either side of his chest, but another touch held you back. Behind you, Shane had grabbed hold of your hair and turned your head to face him.

“Spit,” he ordered, holding his hand under your chin.

You did as you were told and watched him rub your spit all over his shaft, before bringing his hand up to your face again and repeating his command.

At the same time, Daryl had lifted his hips and was guiding you closer to his cock. Your gaze moved down, then up, then over at Rick with a look of confusion, only to dart back to Daryl when you felt him split you open with a single thrust.

You had just been impaled on Daryl’s cock, mind reeling at the stretch and sensation, when you felt two fingers slip between your legs from behind. Daryl gripped your face and brought it down to his—wouldn’t let you look over your shoulder as the other man’s hand started to traverse the contour of your ass.

You were pulled in for a kiss as Daryl bottomed out inside you. Tongue hardly able to keep up with his as moans and whimpers went bubbling up in your throat, you just sat there, straddled him, and let him use your pussy any way he pleased. He snapped his hips and groaned your name between your lips, while the hand that was prodding you from behind finally reached its intended destination.

You yelped into Daryl’s mouth the second you felt a full, hefty finger slip inside your ass. Officer Walsh, no doubt.

The two men at your rear all but moaned as your tight little hole contracted around Shane’s finger and Daryl continued to pound you from below. It was odd, that sharp, disparate feeling of Daryl’s cock drilling your pussy while Shane’s digit pumped a much slower pace in your ass. Your senses had kicked into overdrive, and you couldn’t keep from showing your pleasure with every sound that you made.

Shane withdrew just long enough to add another finger, smearing a mixture of cum, spit, and your own juices all over your walls for lubrication. You sensed him moving closer, when Rick grabbed hold of his shoulder.

“Give her a minute,” he muttered.

Shane scoffed, shaking him off.

“Little whore looks plenty ready to me,” he retorted as he eyed your slick, sensitive hole.

Suddenly, your throat was clasped in Shane’s big hand and your head pulled tight against his chest. He had taken his cock in his other hand and was angling his length just right to press the head between your cheeks. Daryl had slowed almost completely.

“C’mere.” Daryl beckoned you closer with a tender look. When you leaned down to lay flat on his chest, he smiled, stroked your hair, “Jus’ hold on ta me, alright?”

Your walls were already squeezing his cock like a vice and your fingernails making white-hot crescents in his shoulders—you couldn’t hold him tighter if you tried—but you nodded. You let him kiss you again, felt a little more fit to take his tongue this time, and eased down along his shaft until you were filled to the brim with nothing but him.

That last part changed as soon as Shane thrust into your ass.

You jolted forward and instinctively tried to pull off his cock, but Daryl held you tight. Brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face and started peppering your skin with kisses the louder you whimpered.

“Doin’ so good for us, baby— takin’ our cocks so well,” he cooed in your ear.

You whined at the fierce burn between your legs as both Daryl and Shane pushed inside you. Rough fucking was one thing, but being penetrated in both holes simultaneously while sandwiched between two men just brought the sensations to entirely new heights. You clawed at Daryl’s shoulders and damn near sunk your teeth straight through your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” the man below you mumbled as he watched your face contort in a medley of pleasure and pain, “Tha’s my good girl.”

“Fuckin’ whore,” Shane spat, shoving his cock even deeper. Clearly not one for tender anal training.

Now it was Daryl going slow and sweet, just barely stirring his cock inside you while Shane slapped your ass and yanked your hips over his own. You saw Rick’s previously-deflated cock grow hard in his hands, and you proceeded to watch him watch you as he stroked himself a few feet away.

You needed another distraction. You caught Rick’s eye and simply licked your lips in silent invitation. He was filling your mouth in a matter of seconds.

With three cocks pumping in and out of you, you felt every bit the fucked-out brat you knew they’d wanted to claim. Your brain had all but melted to mush in their hands, your body manhandled and fucked every which way while your thoughts yielded, in turn, to pure anoesis.

There was something unusually freeing about being a living, breathing fuckdoll for these three King County cops. You couldn’t get enough.

Rick pulled his dick out of your mouth just long enough to slap you with it.

“This what ya needed?” he teased, tapping the head of his cock on your spit-painted cheeks, “A good fucking in all your holes to make you behave?”

You stuck out your tongue and tried to nod, your body still shaking with every thrust from Daryl and Shane. Instead of pushing back in, Rick simply rubbed his cock all over your face and shot you a look that was soaked to the core with condescension. Somewhere below, Daryl began toying with your clit.

You sucked in a breath between broken moans and clenched harder around both men inside you.

“Think she wants a switch,” Rick grinned.

In a minute, you felt yourself hoisted back up—Shane pulling out and Daryl rising swiftly to his feet. Two sets of hands helped maneuver your body to a position you’d never tried, never even seen before as your legs hooked over either one of Daryl’s arms and your ass was thrust back. Then, to your relief, it was Rick at your rear this time, rubbing his tip along your red and stretched out hole while your head came to rest on his shoulder.

You were pressed between the men once more and cradled comfortably in their arms. Daryl took care not to rut into you too hard while Rick was still coating your arousal across the hole Shane had just fucked raw.

“Shh, shh,” Rick’s lips dropped close to your ear while he pressed a wet finger inside, trying to relubricate the area.

You wiggled and squirmed, a bit too sensitive to keep still at this point, so Shane reached in and took you by the throat.

“Hold still,” he snapped. Stroking himself with his free hand.

You watched his eyes drift down to the spot where he’d just been, where Rick was trying to squeeze into, and felt the first real twinge of bliss when you felt the head of his cock tease your entrance. This was softer, even sweet. Paired with Daryl’s extra slow thrusts and the sounds all three were making as you spread your legs even wider, you first became aware of a knot in your tummy.

When the warmth of your ass enveloped just the tip of him, you felt it constrict even tighter.

Rick let out a groan and struggled to keep from thrusting too hard. Shane tightened his grip on your neck.

“C’mon now, sugar tits, don’t act like you ain’t just—”

“Shane,” Daryl growled.

Rick didn’t stop. You squeezed both cocks and moaned.

“I’m just sayin’ if the slut could fit my cock in and—”

“Fuck,” Rick hissed.

You were bouncing in between them now, head lolled back on Rick’s shoulder and hand pressed flush against Daryl’s chest. Steeped in pleasure as they stood and fucked you stupid.

Shane continued to tug his cock and stare you down with hungry, possessive eyes.

Daryl’s moans turned to shallow grunts while Rick’s breath fanned soft across your cheeks in ragged breaths. You writhed and you grinded between their two bodies, too lost in your own ascent to pleasure to sense anything else. Your skin was wet with a sheen of sweat and both holes all but soaked between the two men. Their cocks plunging in and out at a vicious pace until the coil in your stomach was nearly starting to ache.

“Feelin’ good?” Rick hummed in your ear.

“Gettin’ close?” Daryl joined.

Shane’s hand closed around your throat until your lungs could scarcely breathe and your vision blurred with stars. Making one last strangled moan, you rolled your hips and felt something taut and tight and blisteringly hot break loose across your abdomen—and not just the ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.

Alongside that tiny eruption came a blitz of pleasure unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your body went haywire, every square inch of your skin alight with ecstasy and your mind going numb in a surge of bliss. You moaned and felt the walls of both holes spasm desperately over Daryl and Rick alike, and suddenly, something far beyond your control seemed ready to tear your body in two.

A beat of silence. Your consciousness gradually returned.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing to grace your sight was Daryl’s shining face, grinning ear to ear with the happiest expression.

You blinked and watched him closer.

As your vision adjusted and the world came clearer into view, you caught a glimpse of what seemed to have stretched Daryl’s smile so wide—and what had made his features so unusually luminous in this light.

Your eyes widened.

Daryl glanced to Rick, then Shane.

“Who knew she’d be a squirter?”

Presently, your juices were coating Daryl’s face and chest, having spurted straight from your cunt in the throes of climax and spraying all over his front.

Your pussy still clenched and convulsed as the cum from either man went seeping out of both holes.

Even Shane was left speechless, having just milked the last of his own release and watched you come undone in near-pornographic fashion. His chest was still heaving, blinking in disbelief and exchanging sly looks with Daryl and Rick every now and then. Rick pressed a kiss to your shoulder and smiled.

And, just when it seemed any one of you were liable to break that spell of silence with a laugh, the rattle of radio feedback startled you all.

Somewhere amidst the articles of clothing strewn around you, a walkie talkie clipped to one officer’s belt rang loud with the sound of a voice from a neighboring county’s dispatcher.

“All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress— Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound, GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3. Advise extreme caution.”

All three men stood to attention. Daryl and Rick lowered you quickly to the ground while Shane went scrambling for his clothes.

“Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded.”

“Shit!” Rick hissed.

“Unit 1, unit 3, to eastbound Route 18. Two miles west of Interstate 85. Will patch in Linden County sheriff radio.”

“Is tha’—” Daryl started.

“We need to go,” Shane interrupted.

Another voice broke out over the line,

“Roger that. We’re five minutes south of the Route 18 intersection.”

Daryl tossed you what garments of yours he could find and snatched your arm in a breakneck haste. Before you could so much as slip your shirt over your head, though, you found yourself carted back over to his squad car and pushed toward an open door.

“What’s—”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

For reasons you couldn’t yet understand, you knew this call didn’t bode well for any of you. You took one last look at Officer Grimes and felt a twist in your stomach.

[lanasblood]

JUST NETEYAM | neteyam x reader

pairing: olo'eyktan!neteyam x f!reader

summary: despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.

word count: 8k

warnings: arranged marriage trope, fluffffff, love-at-first-sight kinda thing, a bit of angst in the beginning, traditions, non-sexual nudity, prejudiced reader, royal neteyam, he is just such a prince it's unreal!!

note: all characters are aged up by five years. the title eyktan/eykte (leader) being unofficially reserved for the olo'eyktan (clan leader)'s mate made sense to me since both are supposed to rule together. please correct me if i’m wrong. see end notes for more.

* gif‘s not mine.

You will learn to love her. He remembered his mother's voice, and he recalled the vast expanse of the sky, where billowing clouds danced gracefully and the wind embraced him with gentle caresses. The sky, like an endless canvas, painted in hues of blue, purple, and gold, held a beauty that stirred his soul. 

Instead of roaring waves crashing against the cliffs, he witnessed the majestic flight of ikrans, soaring high above the jagged peaks. Their wings, strong and mighty, carried him through the heavens, as if he were a part of their elegant dance. Gone were the humpbacked sea surfaces, replaced by the boundless freedom of the open sky. The white foam, once adorning the ocean's crown, now transformed into fluffy clouds, resembling intricately woven blankets. It was as if the heavens themselves provided a soft embrace, offering comfort and warmth.

They were little things, nothing really worth mentioning, such as the sun rays tickling his soft skin, or the laughter of his siblings echoing in his memories, not as they played with ilus in the water, but now as they soared alongside him, sharing the pure joy of flight. Even the taste of sea salt, carried on the wind, found a place in this ethereal domain. With closed eyes, he could almost feel a delicate touch of salt upon his lips, a reminder of the distant ocean and the memories it held. He missed those times. Not because he preferred swimming over climbing, or blue over green, that was completely not the case, but because he missed his youth, even from a time when his family sought shelter. He missed being careless, learning new things, having fun, and he would've laughed at his younger self who, even though rarely, complained about the number of duties and responsibilities he had on his shoulders — because nothing could compare to the duties and responsibilities he faced now as Olo'eyktan.

So for once, he liked to lose himself in memories of the sea before he pictured himself back in the sky, on the back of his ikran, where he found a world of wonder, where every little detail became a cherished treasure. The sky had become his limitless playground, an infinite expanse that awakened his spirit and filled his heart with boundless freedom.

He had been incredibly nostalgic ever since his parents had announced the arrangement for him; how overjoyed they had told him that they had found a mate for him, and he guessed it was self-explanatory why a part of him wanted to hold on to his past; not ready to take that further step. 

Standing there and observing the preparations and exquisite decorations his people had arranged, he realized that the efforts he had endured for this ceremony were not in vain. The Omatikaya had gone to great lengths to create a magnificent celebration, honoring the union of a new pair; the one of their clan leader. Intricate craftsmanship was displayed in the decorations made from natural materials, the delicate floral arrangements that adorned the surroundings, and the gentle flicker of candles all held meaningful details. However, despite the beauty surrounding him, he couldn't help but yearn for the moment when it would all finally be over.

Five moons ago, he had thought not much of it, he had been convinced he'd find a way out of it, and here he was. Trapped in memories, in the infinity of the skies and seas, here, time stood still, so that eternity could begin, and right here he felt well, he felt safe. 

"Bro!" A hand clawed onto his upper arm, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts, as a breathless Lo'ak stood before him — or rather, hunched over, supporting himself with his other hand on his knees, and breathing deeply, inhaling and exhaling heavily. 

"Mawey, brother." Neteyam carefully placed his hand on his brother's head and sought his face, trying to understand the situation. Lo'ak just shook his head hastily, trying to control his breathing. 

"Are you okay?" Lo'ak was clearly not okay, yet Neteyam tried to maintain his composure as unpleasant images infiltrated his thoughts, his mind going through any possible worst case scenario. He hoped that nothing had happened to his family, and involuntarily, he felt annoyed that he hadn't seen Tuk and Kiri for a while, worrying about them.

"I got it, I got it." Lo'ak shook his hand off, breathing normally again. "It's.." He took a deep breath before saying it all at once, "It's your mate-to-be."

Neteyam's ears perked up in alarm. Lo'ak, having somewhat calmed his breathing, cringed, now struggling with his words instead. Perhaps he shouldn't have announced this so dramatically in front of his older brother, because he now feared that one problem would become two.

"Yes?" Neteyam patiently but firmly encouraged him to continue. He was suddenly caught in a conflict within himself, wrestling to keep his expression neutral, knowing that it would raise unease among curious ears and attentive watchers.

Apprehensive of his brother's reaction, Lo'ak didn't know how to say it, "Uh, I kinda… please don't be mad at me."

"Spill it, Lo'ak," Neteyam hissed through gritted teeth, now impatient and slightly on edge due to his younger brother's panicking behavior.

He feared the worst now but he didn't want to jump to premature conclusions. Still, something clearly must've happened and he inwardly hoped for her to be alright and safe. Yes, she was a stranger to him whom he had never seen once, but she was soon to become the closest and most important person in his life after all.

Lo'ak's gaze was filled with guilt, when he unsurely admitted, "I, uh… lost… her…?"

And that was it. All the facial features of the otherwise composed clan leader contorted as he looked at his brother in disbelief. Lost her? How do you lose a grown person? 

The inner leader within him knew that he immediately had to gather as much information as possible about this situation. Finding her before the ceremony was crucial, and he should coordinate efforts with their best trackers and devise a strategic plan to cover all possible areas she might have gone. 

His false, rationalized side tried to reassure him, suggesting that nothing had happened. Perhaps Lo'ak hadn't seen her in the tent, or she had been engrossed in a conversation. Maybe she simply got caught up in preparations and lost track of time. It's not uncommon for delays to happen before important ceremonies.

His emotionally calibrated side couldn't help but worry about her well-being, as well as the well-being of others. What if she had sustained an injury? What if she required assistance? And with a touch of paranoia, he feared something much worse, considering sabotage and abduction.

His reflected psychological side, however, completely dismissed these possibilities, because most likely, his family had intimidated her, and she had gotten cold feet. And if she truly matched him as well as his parents had described, then he could assess her emotional state and he had a feeling where she would be right now. 

Ultimately, his strategically valuable side gained the upper hand and decided to embark on the search immediately, knowing exactly where to start.

"What did you tell her?"

Lo'ak looked at him completely lost, "Nothing, really, just that you're Olo'eyktan," he shrugged, "It's not like she didn't know that already."

And once again, he remembered his elders' words, and for the first time, a subtle sense of doubt began to creep into his mind, when he recalled what they had said:

You will learn to love her.

TWO HOURS AGO. 

"I must inspect her body." You had expected many things, but not this. You had already come to terms with the idea of never being able to make your own choices again after everything you had experienced in the past couple of hours. And yet, you found yourself taken aback by this one simple sentence.

Five moons ago, you had been sitting in your family's tent in front of your parents when your mother had dropped the announcement that had changed everything. That day, you had been feeling uneasy from the moment you had gotten up, unable to quite place why. But when your mother had revealed the news, it had all become clear, changing everything.

"My daughter, you have been chosen by the Omatikaya to become their Olo'eyktan's mate," your mother had said, beaming with pride.

Immediately, your heart had sunk. While you had heard of the clan, you had remained a foreigner to their lands, unfamiliar with their Olo'eyktan, a man you had never encountered. It had become painfully clear to you that you were not ready to unite in a mating ceremony with a complete stranger, devoid of both familiarity and love.

"Do I have to, mother?" you had asked, your voice shaking with emotion.

"But yes, this is a great honor for our family. You were chosen, out of all the clans, out of all the girls in our clan, to marry Toruk Makto's eldest son," your mother had said, trying to convince you, "It's a sign of respect and trust."

"But what if I don't love him? What if we're not compatible?"

"My daughter," your mother's voice had carried firmness, "you are being unreasonable. This is not about love. It is about the well-being of our clan and the future of our people. Arrangements are part of our traditions for generations, and they have served us well. Your father and I, too, entered into an arranged union, and we have found happiness together."

She had continued, her tone resolute, "He is a commendable man. We have known of him and his achievements since he was but a child. As the successor to his father, he carries the legacy of our shared battles against our enemies." You had remembered all of the stories and tales, about a time before your time, about your father and mother fighting against the skypeople at the side of Toruk Makto. "For he led the clans to victory and if his son has inherited even a fraction of his character, you could not ask for a more suitable companion. He is talented, responsible, a formidable warrior, and an exceptional leader."

Your father had spoken up for the first time. "Your mother is right. The Omatikaya are good people, and their Olo'eyktan is a good man. He will take care of you and you will be happy together."

You had felt like you were suffocating at the realization that your own family had been willing to force you into a loveless marriage just for the sake of tradition, honor, and alliances.

"But what about my own happiness?" your voice had been barely above a whisper.

"Your happiness is important, my daughter," your mother had spoken, "But this is not just about you, you have a duty for our clan. You will become Eykte, and eventually Tsahìk, too, you will grant our clan safety and protection for generations to come."

You had known you weren't going to win this argument, feeling trapped, and so, so helpless. Looking down at your hands, you had been feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't imagine a life with someone you didn't love.

Your mother had put a hand on your shoulder. "It is okay, you will understand one day. We are doing what is best for you and our clan. Trust us."

But you couldn't have brought yourself to trust them, not after such a betrayal. You had known you had to find a way out of this marriage, but you just hadn't known how. You had looked up at your mother and nodded, pretending to accept your fate. While you had been internally determined to find a way to escape somehow, your mother had smiled at you proudly, and you would probably never forget her following words.

"You will learn to love him."

And now you stood here, in front of the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya — who was so different from the one in your clan — and were forced to undress and be inspected by her; for what purpose, you were not told, but you assumed that the degree of your flawlessness had to be determined and confirmed before you would be presented to the oh-so-great Olo'eyktan. The thought alone made your stomach churn. 

"Grandmother, she clearly feels uncomfortable."

"Kiri, you know that it is not me who dictates the rules, for they are woven into the fabric of our existence itself," although her words were thoughtful and calm, her facial expression was anything but. Her gaze bore a sternness that bordered on intimidation, contradicting the tranquility of her voice. "Before the sacred union, both woman and man must embark upon this profound step."

"I don't want to," you said with a determined voice, "No one in our clan does that."

"Well, daughter of a great warrior, you are not in your clan anymore. Starting from today, you are Omatikaya, and you will learn to accept our ways if you want to or not." 

A soft cough broke the silence outside the tent, followed by a deep voice asking, "May I enter?"

"Ah, I am too old and weak for such childish affairs," The elderly lady complained before muttering a prayer to herself, clearly at the end of her nerves, and it was more than evident that she was complaining about you and not the man who asked to enter the tent.

"Sure, you can come in," responded the girl standing by your side, who had been your companion throughout the day. Her name was Kiri, and amidst the chaos of the day, she appeared to be the most grounded and relatable person you had encountered; she was clearly the most normal person in this whole clan, that was for sure.

The Tsahìk waved her arms dramatically in the air before clutching her head, expressing dismay, "My days are numbered, and my strength is waning. I cannot keep up with this behavior."

A gruff laughter filled the air as the man stepped into the tent, placing the stack of white fabric on the table before he gently rested a reassuring hand on the elderly lady's shoulder. "Ma dear Tsahìk, you're lookin' healthy and mighty strong, and we're gonna keep you here with us for many cycles to come. No need to worry 'bout a thing, trust me."

"Be careful, jakesully, you begin talking like skypeople again," the woman said bitterly before her stern gaze fixated on you again, "Just where did you find this stubborn girl?" 

Both the man and the elderly lady turned their attention towards you. The older woman's expression held a tinge of disgust, while the man offered an apologetic smile, as if trying to reassure you. Silence hung in the air, and without thinking, the words spilled from your lips, words that had plagued your thoughts since stepping foot on this new land that morning.

"Will I be introduced to the Olo'eyktan soon or…?"

The elder dismissed your question with a scoff, shooting a meaningful glance at the tall man beside her as if to say, Do you see what I mean? Instead of providing an answer, she posed a statement, her tone laced with accusation. "She reminds me of you. Is that why you chose her?"

The man shifted his gaze to you, offering an awkward smile before turning back to the Tsahìk. With confidence that appeared to stem from his own conviction, he declared, "She will learn our ways."

You will learn their way. 

You will learn to adapt.

You will learn to love him. 

The only thing you would eventually learn was to obey.

"Well, she has to learn a lot. That poor soul lacks understanding and respect for our ways and traditions. So far, I'm not convinced she's the right person to lead alongside the Olo'eyktan," the elder remarked, her words heavy with skepticism. 

"Ma Jake? Are you here?" Before anyone could respond, a stunning woman entered the tent with grace and elegance, capturing the attention of all present.

"There is so much more to do, and so little time left," the Tsahìk remarked, brushing off the interruption. 

The woman gently placed a hand on the elder's shoulder, mirroring the gesture of support shown by the man named jakesully earlier. Her presence exuded confidence and a calming aura, diffusing some of the tension in the room.

"Mother," she spoke in a soothing tone, her voice carrying a hint of authority. "Why are you stressing yourself out? It is a big day for your grandson, and you should take it easy."

Grandson. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The family dynamics suddenly fell into place. It all made sense. You found yourself in a room surrounded by the closest members of your betrothed's family, yet there was no sign of him. His grandmother, his father, his mother, his sister were all present right in front of you.

The Tsahìk sighed and looked up at her daughter, concern etched on her face. "I know, Neytiri. But there is so much at stake, so much to be done," she replied, her voice laden with a sense of responsibility. "As the wisdom of time falls upon me and by the guide of Eywa, it is my duty to examine her physical form before the mating ceremony, and all she does is protest and complain."

Jakesully cleared his voice, "I mean, we cannot force her. If she doesn't—"

"She has to, ma Jake," Neytiri, the graceful woman who had entered, interrupted him with a serious gaze, "And she will." Then she shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes filled with compassion. 

Leaning closer to her mother, she said, "You have guided our people for generations, mother. Today, let us handle the preparations while you focus on preserving your strength."

The Tsahìk seemed hesitant to relinquish control, but after a moment of contemplation, she nodded in agreement. "Very well, my daughter. I entrust this responsibility to you and Jakesully. May Eywa guide your actions."

Neytiri smiled warmly, her eyes flickering with gratitude. "Thank you, mother. We will do our best to honor our traditions."

With a sense of relief, the Tsahìk rose from her seat, her weariness momentarily lifted. She turned to you, her stern expression softening ever so slightly. "As for you, young one, understand that our customs are not merely rituals, but a connection to our ancestors and the land that sustains us. Embrace our ways, and you will find your place within our clan."

You met her gaze, a glimmer of kindness in hers as you didn't falter your firm expression whereupon your understanding of tradition began to shift, morphing into a newfound curiosity.

Jakesully stepped forward, his voice resonating with encouragement. "It may seem overwhelming at first, but with time, you will come to understand, trust me."

Neytiri joined his side, her presence radiating strength, "Neither you nor Neteyam are alone in this journey. We will walk beside you, supporting and guiding you every step of the way."

Neteyam. So that was his name. Exactly in that moment, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask about his name but so did no one bother to tell you before, as if it was something you should've already known.

"Where is he right now?" you just asked. If the topic of Neteyam had already been mentioned, you didn't want to waste the opportunity. The couple in front of you — his parents — exchanged a brief glance, before you got an answer.

"He is busy with the preparations, but we'll see after him now," Neytiri expressed with a gentle tone and smiled at you. "Kiri will stay here to assist you."

Once again, your question was avoided, and it was becoming increasingly strange. You chose to ignore how one by one, your future family left the tent, leaving you all alone. Kiri had assured you that she would hurry back as she needed to gather some materials. As far as you were concerned, she could take all the time in the world, as it wouldn't change anything about your situation anyway.

"Neteyam." You let the name roll off your tongue, practiced the pronunciation, and let your ears become accustomed to the sound of it. Neteyam. You chuckled to yourself, even though you refused to admit it openly, it was a remarkably beautiful name. At least you had to give him that, you would have a mate with a pretty name. And you could add that to the list of things you knew about him: His name was Neteyam and he was the Olo'eyktan.

You sighed, recalling the conversation with the young man from earlier today. Once you and your brother who took the role as your guardian for today had arrived, this guy had accompanied you through the village, like a personal assistant assigned to you. It seemed as if his main task had been to keep you away from the other villagers, as if you were a disease or plague. Something had seemed off. He hadn't answered many questions, deflecting them instead. And eventually, when the questions became too much for him, he had left you in the caring hands of Kiri and disappeared elsewhere. It had been an interesting encounter with him, for just like Kiri, he possessed an extra finger and hair that gracefully cascaded over his eyes. In retrospect, it dawned upon you that he must surely be a part of the family, and you assumed that Neteyam would likely bear a similar resemblance. Such differences held little concern for you, as they were merely superficial nuances. Before your departure, your friends from your clan had instilled fear within you, weaving tales of demon blood and disfigurement. Yet, you chose to disregard their words, wanting to see for yourself.

Still, the fact that you had not laid eyes upon him and the pervasive silence surrounding his name within the village stirred a faint sense of unease within your core. Could he truly be an outwardly fearsome beast, compelling others to shun him from their thoughts? Or perhaps, he was a cruel leader, commanding such reverence that people dared not utter his name. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing that this enigmatic figure would soon become your better half, your partner in life's journey, and he would be the one to father your offspring. The question lingered, like a whisper in the wind: Could cruelty be inherited, passed down through bloodlines?

At least now you knew your future mate's name.

"…te Suli Neteyam'itan."

"Or y/n'ite," you flinched involuntarily as you heard Kiri's voice when she reentered the tent, and instantly a slight blush crept onto your cheeks, "You know what, kind of eww because he's my brother but it's good that you already think about your children's names," Kiri said smiling smugly.

"I was not—"

"No, I mean it, repeat that in front of my grandmother and she will be head over heels for you." You highly doubted that. 

You spent the next hour doing what Kiri instructed, and it wasn't nearly as daunting as you had imagined. The physical examination wasn't a thorough scrutiny of your body. Instead, you were coated in a gentle, liquid healing clay, and it wasn't uncomfortable to have a stranger touch you. Kiri was remarkably professional, but she asked you not to pose distracting questions while she worked. Later, the clay was washed away with water infused with blessings and flower petals, which filled the air with a delightful scent. Once everything was finished, you felt refreshed and rejuvenated, as if reborn. Only then did other people approach you to dress you in exquisite fabrics, feathers, and precious jewelry, and gemstones. The women all appeared kind, but none of them seemed eager to engage in conversation with you. You sat quietly on the mat, your legs folded underneath you, gazing at the wall ahead, as multiple hands adorned you.

As the preparations came to an end, you had still an abundance of questions left, a multitude of them swirling in your mind, and you voiced each and every one of them, undeterred by the avoidance of an answer.

Is he handsome? 

Is he kind? 

Is he warm? 

Cultured? 

Artistic? 

Athletic? 

Strategic?

You persisted in asking, refusing to give up, until you received a satisfactory answer.

"Is he dull? Not very smart? Mentally slow? I can work on those." 

However, every response you received was completely off-topic, such as "We can discuss the order of the mating ceremony" or "Our Tsahìk sent over blessings for you to recite during the ceremony..." It was beyond frustrating. 

"Is he, like, ugly or something? Maybe he has some kind of physical deformity, but you know, true beauty comes from within anyway and such. Well, not literally from within, but I believe in being a good person and I could deal with it."

At this point, it felt like you were having a one-sided conversation, with question after question piling up like a mountain, and not a single one of them was ever answered sensibly. Instead, you were met with empty platitudes intended to appease you, but it was all in vain: You are going to be an amazing mate, an amazing mother, and an amazing eykte.

Just as you were about to give up, you turned to the young girl who helped you put on some golden beads on your hair, the one that Kiri had referred to as her sister. The youngest Sully child had also joined your company at some point, a truly adorable and vibrant teenage girl whom you had quickly grown fond of. "Can I ask you about your brother?" you feared that the topic was about to be avoided again.

But contrary to your expectation, the younger girl beamed a smile at you and nodded her head in agreement, "Sure, ask away, what do you want to know?"

"What is he like?" You asked your voice filled with curiosity, anticipating her answer and paying attention to her body language.

"I mostly like him, more than Lo'ak at least," the younger girl began venting in a nonchalant tone, "but today I'm so angry at him, he really—"

"Tuktirey!" The stern voice of her mother, Neytiri, suddenly interrupted, causing the girl to look up instantly. The girl fell silent, her eyes wide with attention. "Come help me, please," Neytiri said with a nod towards the forest, before she swiftly exited.

Turning her gaze back to you, a sweet smile still graced her lips. "Don't worry, he's actually the very best," she whispered.

"Tuk!" Neytiri called again, prompting Tuk to rise from her spot.

"I'm sorry, I can't say anything," she hurriedly apologized before rushing towards the tent's exit.

"Tuk, please," you said, reaching out to hold her hand, trying to prevent her from leaving. "Tell me... is he cruel? Is he dumb? I can work with dumb, you know, I just need to know."

Tuk was about to respond when her eyes suddenly widened imperceptibly. You followed her gaze over your shoulder and saw the young man from earlier standing there.

Tuk smiled at you and said, "Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? You're going to have wonderful children, I know it." And just like that, she left. Whatever she was about to say, first her mother and now this man had stopped her.

"What is your problem?" you asked, irritation seeping into your voice as you stood up from your place. "We were having a conversation, why did you stop her from talking?"

"I would never do that to my own sister," he replied seriously.

So Kiri, Tuk, and this guy, probably Lo'ak, were all Neteyam's siblings.

"Why are you here?" you inquired, your bad mood getting the better of you.

"I'm here to assist," he answered nonchalantly.

"Okay, then you tell me," you demanded, your voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me about the Olo'eyktan."

A thoughtful pause lingered in the air before the guy responded, his gaze holding a promise of an imminent encounter. "You will meet him soon," he assured you, sensing your yearning for immediate understanding.

"I want to know now," you pressed, a hint of urgency coloring your words.

He let out a weary sigh, acknowledging your eagerness. "He is our clan leader — the clan of the blue flute," he began.

"Yes," you affirmed the initial fragments of knowledge that you already knew.

"He has held the esteemed position of the successor of the former Olo'eyktan since his childhood, as he is the firstborn child," he continued, acting as if it were the most revealing information.

"Yes," you echoed, impatience in your voice.

"And for two cycles of harvest time, he has guided us Omatikaya as our chief," he concluded, underscoring the same repeated information, now for the third time.

"Yes," you mused, the repetition of information giving rise to a discerning observation, one that definitely confirmed your gut feeling. "Okay, so you've told me he is the clan leader, he is Olo'eyktan, the chief of the Omatikaya, the firstborn, and the successor since birth... these are all the same things."

"Yes," he acknowledged, his face looking serious and his voice carrying a hint of nervousness, "but they are all facts."

You stifled an annoyed sigh as everything felt so strange here from the moment you arrived until now. It was baffling that nobody, and absolutely nobody at all, was talking about him. It almost seemed like a conspiracy, leaving you perplexed.

You realized your parents were wrong from the very beginning, and that's when you decided to put an end to it. You refused to stay any longer in this clan, let alone mate with him.

"Excuse me for a moment," You muttered as you tried to pass by Lo'ak, but he positioned himself at the exit in a way that blocked any way out.

"I'm really sorry, but you'll have to stay here until the ceremony," he explained, wearing an awkward smile on his face.

"Sure, but I really need a moment of privacy." 

"Yeah, of course, I won't bother you in the tent."

"No, you don't understand," you made one final attempt, but no matter how obvious it seemed, Lo'ak couldn't grasp the situation. He stared at you with a perplexed look as you let out a sigh and concluded your statement, "Nature is calling."

"Oh," his eyes grew wide within a second, "Oh, uh," he stammered, "Yes, um, sure, you can– you can just go over, uh, there," he cleared his throat several times and pointed in two different directions with his hands, a light blush visible on his cheeks, "D-do you know the way? You do, don't you? Should I…?"

"I'll manage, thanks," you gave him a fake smile as you walked past him and headed straight into the forest. Once you were certain that no one was following you, you began to run. Every second counted now, and you had already devised an escape plan. You didn't care about your family or your clan, or the shame it would bring upon them for they had abandoned you anyway. Without a second thought, they had turned their backs on you and your future, so you were ready to do the same. You would rather be alone for the rest of your life than mate with that demon no one dared to talk about.

The soft melody of baby ikrans chirping above you, their cheerful tunes harmonizing with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees, calmed your nerves a bit. Amidst the serene ambiance, you had fought your way from the woods after running quite a distance from the village, now standing in front of high rocks, your expression reflecting a sense of bewilderment and uncertainty, you looked for a way to climb them up.

Lost in your thoughts, and trying different ways, you remained oblivious to the presence behind you, until a man cleared his throat and approached you.

"Um, are you in need of assistance of some kind?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.

You startled, letting go of the vines on the rocks for a moment and a flicker of suspicion crossed your eyes as you turned to the person. "Uh, I am quite fine, thank you," you responded annoyedly, your thoughts silently questioning the identity of this stranger. Where did he even come from and why did he bother you? He probably knew who you were given your extravagant looks, but who was he? "You can go back and wait with all the other gawkers for the ceremony."

The man's lips curved into a soft smile when he took a step closer to you, his hands resting calmly behind his back. "I...will. But first, I'm curious, what are you doing?" he inquired, his tone curious and laced with intrigue.

A hint of defiance lingered in your voice as you replied, "Nothing." You struggled to maintain your composure, your words betraying your actions.

"You're doing something," he persisted.

Frustrated, you sighed, "I am not."

With the sound of ikrans shouting above you, a moment of pause settled between you. In that fleeting silence, you decided to reveal your purpose, hoping he'd then mind his business and go away. "If you must know, I'm trying to find out the best way to climb over these rocks."

"Climb... whatever for?" he questioned, genuinely intrigued by your confession.

"Because I think he may be a beast. Or a demon," you revealed muttering to yourself, sarcasm in your voice but also hinting at a hidden fear.

Perplexed, the man who had definitely heard you inquired further, "Who are we talking about?"

"Oh, well, that was actually mean of me," you mumbled to yourself, reminding yourself that the man in front of you was probably loyal to his Olo'eyktan and wouldn't like you talking bad about him. That thought made you find some amusement in your own thoughts before speaking louder, "None of your business."

He gazed at you expectantly, awaiting an honest answer. The stranger didn't seem like someone who would immediately betray your secret — later perhaps — but he could be of use to you right now, maybe he could even confirm or refute your theory.

"The Olo'eyktan," you finally added, your voice softer, "No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a demon."

Realization dawned upon him as he nodded, absorbing your words. "Understood."

You turned your back to him, focusing on the rocks again, and suddenly you had a plan, "You know, if I grab there... yes!" you looked back to him over your shoulder, "You could assist me by lifting me up."

Confusion crept into his expression as he hesitated, contemplating your request. "Uh, one question. You do not like beasts or demons? What he looks like matters?"

You rolled your eyes, "I don't care what he looks like. What I don't like is not knowing. Now, here. Just take a hold here," you instructed, pointing to your waist. "With a lift, I... I believe I can make it over the rocks and to my ikran."

He considered your words, pondering the consequences. "People will notice you are missing, will they not?" he queried, concerned for the potential repercussions.

"I will worry about that later. Now, if you please..." you turned your back to him, still determined to proceed. "I just need a little help. Come. Hurry up."

The man licked his lips, caught in his own contemplation, before taking two slow steps forward. "I have absolutely no intention of helping you," he declared, surprising you with his refusal.

You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him as if you had misheard, giving him the time to correct himself. Your eyes widened in surprise and a bit of anger, too. With sure steps, you approached him, closing the distance between you.

"I'm a woman in need of help. And you refuse?" you confronted him, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The man tilted his head to the side, his expression contemplative. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he responded, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness.

"I refuse when that woman in need of help is trying to go over the rocks so that she does not have to be my mate," he stated, his words hanging in the air, revealing a truth that caught you off guard.

Shock rippled through you, and you gasped softly, feeling as though the air had been caught in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his golden gaze, desperately hoping that you had misinterpreted what he said. But deep down, you knew the truth had found its way to you, settling heavily in your core. It couldn't be... you had seen his siblings, and they didn't possess the distinctive features of the clan. Yet, here he stood, a true Na'vi through and through, without any doubts. He was remarkably handsome, almost too handsome. Yes, you had noticed his striking appearance the moment you laid eyes on him, but then it didn't matter much since he was just a random person, but now, with this revelation, they held significant weight in your thoughts.

He wore a smirk on his lips, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his gaze. He knew.

"Hello, y/n," he approached you, his smile radiant and unmarred by the revelation. As he stopped directly in front of you, he lifted his hand to his forehead, greeting you with a formal gesture. "I'm Neteyam."

The realization dawned on you, and suddenly, the words you had wanted to speak failed to find their way out. Your tongue forgot its purpose as you just stood there, caught between astonishment and uncertainty.

An apology, you thought, your mind searching for the right words to offer at least that.

"I am deeply s..." —orry. Your voice faltered, carried away by the cool wind that brushed past you. The weight of the truth settled upon you, realizing that he was the successor of the former Olo'eyktan, the firstborn of Toruk Makto, your mate-to-be. 

"Ma Olo'eyktan," you stammered, attempting to bow in respect, but he intercepted your gesture. His hands gently caught yours, intertwining your fingers in the process, and he lowered your hand in a graceful motion, bringing your hands together. His hand on yours became the focal point of your gaze, while you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

"Not your Olo'eyktan," he corrected you in a soft-spoken manner, withdrawing his hand. "Neteyam."

You tried to read his face, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"I mean, yes, your Olo'eyktan, but to you, just Neteyam," he clarified jokingly, the sound of his beautiful laugh after made you speechless.

"I am…" you began, but the sentence remained unfinished, your shame preventing you from pronouncing the word 'sorry'. "Please accept my apology. If I had known that you were you—"

He interrupted you, his gaze unwavering. "You would have what? Not told me that you were trying to escape?"

"Well, yes. I mean…" Your words stumbled over each other, attempting to form a coherent defense.

He chuckled, a sound that filled the air around you with warmth.

"I do apologize, ma Olo'eyktan," you said lowering your gaze, your voice a soft admittance.

"Neteyam," he corrected you once again, a gentle reminder. "Just Neteyam."

You nodded, your eyes looking up and meeting his again, the weight of the moment hanging between you. And then, he leaned closer, too close for your liking, and you held your breath when he whispered into your ear.

"The title situation. It towers over us. An accident of birth on my part," a shiver ran down your spine as his warm breath met your skin, "But I thought, maybe, perhaps as my mate, you could ignore it, and I could be just Neteyam to you."

You gazed at him, your heart fluttering with newfound affection. The weight of his words sank in, and you found yourself captivated by the vulnerability he revealed.

"That was, of course, before I found out that you don't want to be my mate," he confessed as he straightened up, and you couldn't ignore the hint of disappointment in his deep voice.

"I didn't say that," you quickly defended yourself, your voice laced with sincerity.

"Oh, you did," he emphasized, now a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"I did not," you insisted, your tone slightly nervous.

"You did," he persisted, his smile widening.

"It is not... mhm. I don't know you," you admitted, your voice growing softer as you laid bare your doubts and reservations.

He stretched his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "I don't know you either," he admitted, his smile ever so wide, "Except that you are terrible at climbing."

You became defensive, a playful spark igniting within you. "You try climbing a wall in all of these," you retorted, gesturing towards your elaborate clothing and jewelry. As you looked up to meet his gaze once more, you found him already watching you, a broad smile adorning his face and a dreamy glint in his eyes. It was a contagious expression that tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"What?" you asked softly, your curiosity piqued.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a sincere and gentle admiration. "You are incomparable."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a blush rising to your cheeks. You remained silent, allowing the warmth of his compliment to wash over you.

He continued, his gaze shifting to the left as he spoke, his words a tender confession. "No one told me you'd be this beautiful. You may be too beautiful to be my mate. People will talk... given I'm a demon."

"Ma Olo'eyktan—" you started, wanting to apologize again, your voice trailing off as he corrected you once more with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Neteyam."

You chuckled softly, your heart opening up to the gentle familiarity of his name, "Neteyam," you said softly, giving in to the connection forming between you. The sound of his name on your tongue felt even more different now that he was standing in front of you, almost comforting in its own way.

The sun began to set behind him, casting a warm glow over the lush landscape of Pandora, and a golden hue around both of your bodies. The air was filled with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment.

"What do you want to know?" he asked all of a sudden.

"What?" you snapped out of your thoughts, momentarily caught off guard.

"You don't know me. What do you want to know about me?" he repeated, his gaze fixed on you.

You didn't expect this question at all. "That is quite, uh…"

"Mm-hmm," he playfully encouraged you to continue, his head tilted to the side.

"Uh…"

He gave you his full attention making you nervous, a smile playing on his lips, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.

You realized that he seemed to enjoy the situation you were in. Gathering your thoughts, you mustered the courage to speak.

"I suppose... everything," you said, your voice gaining confidence. "I want to know everything about you."

He was briefly surprised, the smile disappearing for a second. "All right," he said, clicking his tongue.

"Uh, everything?" he asked to confirm, and you nodded confidently. "I was born prematurely, and everyone thought I was going to die, but I did not. I am a fair shooter, and an even better archer. My favorite food is srakat vey. I will not eat fungus soup, it is horrible. I like flying and hunting and good conversation. Most of all, I like science."

"Science?" you asked, genuine curiosity in your voice.

"Yes, the study of the physical world, especially astronomy. The stars in the heavens," he explained, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within him as he continued. "I'm quite the artisan. Probably would be an artisan if I were not already occupied." 

Pointing to his scar above his chest, he added, "I have a scar here from falling off my ikran."

"Really?" you asked, surprised at the revelation. He didn't seem to be the type to have experienced such a simple accident.

"Either that or skypeople were the cause, it's long ago," he replied hinting at the mystery, and by the way he said that you were sure that skypeople were the cause of his scar, and he knew that you came to the conclusion as well, almost wanting you to see through him. 

He then pointed at his hand. "A scar here from just being incredibly clumsy with a hunting knife as we were kids." As your eyes focused on his perfect hands, he met your gaze again, and the silent connection deepened. 

"And I'm very nervous," he chuckled, "about mating with a girl I'm only just meeting minutes before our ceremony."

You were left speechless, absorbing the honesty and vulnerability he shared. Nodding understandingly, you appreciated his nobility. "But I cannot show it and climb over rocks and fly away with my ikran because I am Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, and that would cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a demon nor a beast," he reassured, his eyes ever so dreamily locked with yours. "Just Neteyam."

Long, intense eye contact held between you, the unspoken emotions weaving a tapestry of unexplored possibilities. Before you could process the moment, your brother appeared out of nowhere, breaking the trance, 

"Sister, we have been looking everywhere for you. What are you—" he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in awe as he recognized Neteyam. "Ma... ma Olo'eyktan," he greeted respectfully, bowing even.

Neteyam approached your brother and greeted him back. "You must be the man responsible for my possible future happiness."

"Sure. Um, my apologies. Yes. No—" your brother stumbled, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. 

"Well, you have arrived at the most opportune moment. She was just deciding..." his words trailed off as his eyes met yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, "whether or not she wanted to be my mate."

A rush of heat flushed your cheeks, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the scrutiny of both Neteyam and your brother. You watched as the realization sank in, causing your brother's expression to shift from surprise to concern.

"Oh, she is overjoyed to become—" your brother tried to speak, but Neteyam interjected, his voice calm and measured.

"No, she's still deciding. She might go over the rocks instead. Either way, the choice is entirely up to her." The corners of Neteyam's lips curled into a gentle smile, his words reassuring and respectful.

Your heart swelled with awe. The weight of the decision had suddenly become lighter, knowing that Neteyam understood the importance of autonomy, and that he was willing to accept any outcome as long as you were the one making that decision on your own.

Your brother forced a smile, his eyes reflecting a complex blend of emotions. Perhaps he recognized the sincerity in Neteyam's words, or maybe he understood the significance of your journey toward happiness, whatever it was, he kept quiet.

Neteyam broke the silence, his voice filled with a determination worthy of a leader, and a pinch of amusement, "Now, I should get back because I suspect that by now there are some very anxious warriors who think I am kidnapped."

He stepped closer, taking your hand in his, his delicate touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Excitement emanated from him as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

He said your name with so much passion, you were almost hypnotized by him, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope I see you there." He lingered for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, a silent promise of a future yet to unfold.

With a nod and a soft smile, he released your hand and turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back, "And if so, I am the one standing between Tsahìk and Toruk Makto." 

You smiled. He smiled. 

His eyes met yours for the last time, and in that gaze, you found a reflection of your own desires and hopes. And then he started fading into the distance. The weight of his departure settled upon you, you were left standing there, your hand still tingling from the touch of his lips. The intensity of his presence lingered in the air, and you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

Your brother rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. "Don't tell me you are still hesitating," he said, his voice filled with worry and impatience.

With the setting sun as a witness, you just looked at him, a newfound sense of clarity shining in your eyes. 

Well, maybe this wasn't that bad after all.

note: yes, this was inspired by that scene from "queen charlotte", and if you can't get enough of neteyam and enjoy the arranged marriage trope, I highly recommend checking out the chosen by eywa series by @randxmthxughts​ and the monster in me series by @andraga12​, their writing is exceptional, and the way they craft beautiful narratives from chapter to chapter is truly magical, definitely don’t miss out on them!! <33

and as always let me know if you like my own attempt at this trope by liking, reblogging and/or commenting 💕

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

***I'm giving something new a go. This is strictly through Simon's point of view as if he is directly talking to you; he is the only one speaking***

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

The jingle plays repeatedly until the video call connects and the image of you pops up the screen, laying on your side propped on your elbow as you seem to be just waking up for the day. A few stray rays of sunshine creep in from the side of the picture and shimmer through the strands of your hair so that even in your sleepy, disheveled state you still look like a painting. Simon keeps his camera off for the moment, but his voice comes through clear as day over the speakers; the connection is actually decent this time around. 

“Well ‘ello there gorgeous. Surprised to hear from me? It’s been a fuckin’ minute, hasn’t it? I know it’s pretty early there, but I finally have a bit of time now that everyone’s asleep and I wanted to see ya.”

Simon keeps his voice low and hushed, trying not to draw attention to himself as he lays in his cot in the dark, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. His earbuds are plugged in so that he can hear everything with keen precision while keeping the others in his team from listening, just in case. 

“You been doin’ alright there, luv? Keepin’ it all togetha for me till I get back? I know this time it’s been a bit longer, but it ain’t gonna be forever. I’ll be back before ya know it and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”

There’s a look on your face, something he immediately notices. A glint in your eye, a twitch of the corner of your mouth, a shift of your body as you adjust yourself under the sheets. Your texts to him over the past week, wondering when he would have time to actually call, were getting more and more desperate sounding and now reading your body language through the camera he is able to put it all together.

“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart? Care ta tell me what it is? Or should I guess? Cause I think I ‘ave a pretty good idea ‘a what’s goin’ on.”

He watches you bite your lip as you look away, a heat blossoming in your cheeks that flushes throughout your face. There it is, the sign he’s looking for. There’s only two reasons why your cheeks flush like that and you aren’t known to be drinking this early in the morning.

“Are ya missin’ me real fuckin’ bad, is that it?”

You look back up into the camera and give a distinct nod. He understands it well, as he has been pining for you since the day he left. That’s the other reason he has been trying to find time to make this call: he’s been missing his girl real fucking bad and needs some special time with you and only you, even if it’s just for a short video chat now that he is on the tail end of his assignment and he doesn’t have to put as much focus into his work.

“Trust me, you ain’t the only one, sweetheart. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to fuckin’ see ya and there’s things I’ve been missin’ too: that pretty face a yours, wakin’ up next to ya layin’ in bed, the sound of your hummin’ comin’ from the kitchen as ya make breakfast…”

He trails off a moment with his thoughts as he lowers his voice until it’s barely above a whisper, leaning his lips into the microphone built into his headphones just in case any stray ears are listening in. Simon thought he’d be able to get through a bit of small talk before starting in on this stuff, but it seems like your need for each other cannot be contained once you’re in proximity. 

You get him riled up without even trying. He clears his throat and continues the thought. 

“...and if I’m real honest, I’ve been missin’ other things too. The more intimate things like you naked underneath me, the sensation of your legs wrapped ‘round my waist, makin’ those sweet little sounds whenever I hit the right spot. It’s been fuckin’ eatin’ me alive out here, not been able to take care of it. I swear every goddamn time I’m away from ya it’s like I can’t help thinkin’ about ya nonstop. Can ya blame me? I mean, look at ya, luv. You’re a goddamn dream. Christ, I’ve been gettin’ hard just thinkin’ ‘bout what I’m gonna do to all those gorgeous curves the fuckin’ minute I get back.” 

He can hear your already staggered breathing hitch and it makes him smile; it’s cute the way you are always so down bad for him. Just bringing up a few stray thoughts and a mention of his cock and you are already burning. But maybe you were burning a little before that too.

“That’s what you’re missin’ too, yeah? Havin’ me there with ya, doin’ what we do best? Ya don’t have to tell me, I know my sweet girl gets fuckin’ needy when I’m not ‘round to keep her satisfied. From the way you keep messaging me, trust me I know. Bet it’s been fuckin’ lonely there all by yourself; betcha been achin’ for somethin’ to help ya get some relief. I know ya don’t like usin’ your toy all the time…Is that why ya wanted me to call?”

You stutter out some objections, hoping not to sound too desperate as you don’t want him to think that’s the only reason to answer his call. Simon isn’t bothered by it one bit; he can tell you need something to take the edge off. He can always tell… and he wants to help.  

“Ya don’t have to hide it from me, luv. It’s clear as fuckin’ day; I’m already makin’ ya flustered, I can hear it as ya talk. Don’t think I forgot whatcha told me a while back. How ya like the sound ‘a my voice. Ya said it makes ya wet. Is that what ya need now, baby? Need me to talk ya through it and help ya get off?”

You squirm again under the covers, clearly trying not to make it obvious that you are rubbing your thighs together. Simon has barely started the dirty talk and already your body is responding to him in that most primal way. Who is he to deny his sweet thing of what she needs? 

“Yeah, that’s what ya want, isn’t it? To listen to my voice while ya touch yourself? Cause I really fuckin’ wanna give my pretty girl some extra attention right now. Make sure she doesn’t go without me even when I’m away. And if this is the only way I can do it, I wanna make sure ya come. I need to hear it again ‘fore I forget what it sounds like when ya orgasm ‘cause of me.”

Goddammit, Simon’s getting worked up just from talking about helping you get off, so much so that his cock begins to twitch in his pants and he has to adjust himself in the bed with a deep, muted grunt, pulling at the fabric at his crotch to give him more room to grow. He watches you get more excited at the prospect of having his attention, even if it’s only for as long as it takes for you to climax. Any bit of his attention makes you feel like the most gorgeous thing in the entire fucking world and that’s why he gives it all to you.

“But I need ya to do somethin’ for me in return. Somethin’ to help me help you. Can ya do that for me, baby?”

He watches as you nod your head up and down into the camera with enthusiasm, not even waiting to hear what it is he is going to ask you to do. Clearly, you would do anything for him, all he has to do is name it. God, he loves you needy for him, let’s him know that he is treating you right.

“I need ya ta sit up, push your computer to the edge of the bed, and angle the camera down for me. Lower. A little more, that’s it. Good girl. Now, take off the blanket and let me see whatcha got hidin’ under there.”

The computer is pushed further away so that your body is in full view and the camera is now pointed directly into your lap as you remove the blanket hiding your lower half, complying without a single word. Once free, your tank top catches his eyes as it hugs tightly to your breasts while your tiny, cotton sleep shorts leave almost all of your thighs exposed; Simon is eating up every last pixel that he can see. 

Those thick, juicy lower limbs of yours are his absolute favorite and if he could be there now he would already be between them. This is definitely a good idea.

“Wanna be able to see that you’re enjoyin’ listenin’ to me. Ya want me to see it, yeah? Wanna show me how much ya miss me, don’t ya? Course ya do, sweetheart. You’re too fuckin’ good to me. Always makin’ sure I get my fuckin’ fill of such ya; my pretty girl.” 

Simon puts a little extra breathiness into his voice, accentuating his gravelly tone to make you blush like crazy as that wetness gathers at your core. He’s gonna pull out all the stops tonight to make sure that you will be content… at least for the next few days. 

“I think we need a bit more, yeah. Get a real good view. Take off your pants and spread your legs nice and wide for me. Let me see that beautiful little pussy that I’ve been dreamin’ of. Just like that. Little wider; there ya fuckin’ go. O-oh fuck, looks like you’re already drippin’ for me.”

The light catches a faint glistening from the slit between your satiny petals and he can hardly find the air to fill his lungs as his mouth begins to salivate. Acting off of pure instinct, your hand travels down between your legs and almost reaches your cunt before he comes to his senses and scolds the action by snapping his fingers into the mic. 

“Ah, ah, I know you’re achin’ bad, but no touchin’, not till I fuckin’ say. Does my voice turn ya on that much ya can’t even wait for me to really get it goin’? I’ve barely even started and you’re already unable to stop yourself. I wanna make this good for the both of us, but I can’t do that if ya get ahead of yourself. Just breathe a minute.”

An idea pops into his head, fueled by the intense throbbing in the crotch of his pants. He hadn’t thought that he would be getting involved like this, it is risky given his current situation, but his body is saying otherwise. There’s no stopping him when you are giving him such a feast for his eyes to devour.

“Maybe ya just need an incentive to take it slow. Somethin’ to keep your ass in line. I got somethin’ for that, baby.”

The metallic sound of a zipper being undone and a sharp hiss of air between his teeth is heard over the call before the camera is turned on. Simon points the phone at his face for a moment and pulls up his mask slightly to give you a quick smirk before bringing it down to rest on his thighs as he points it straight at his lap. Through the dimness that surrounds him, the focus adjusts and through the opening created at the top of his pants that big fucking dick comes into full view on screen. 

A rush of adrenaline floods his limbs as he hears you inhale sharply, a stray ‘fuck’ escaping your lips at the sight of it throbbing into the palm of his hand. It is swollen at the tip and jumps with his pulse.

“This is all for ya, darlin’; no one else gets to have this fat fuckin’ cock all to themselves, ‘cept you. Have ya missed it? Missed seein’ how fuckin’ big I am? Yeah ya have; I bet your droolin’ over yourself, aren’t ya? Mmm… my horny little princess, always so hungry for me. Are your lips itchin’ to wrap themselves ‘round it now that ya see it after all this time? You remember how well ya gag on it, yeah? My hand on the back of your head, pushin’ ya down as far as ya can go, your spit dribblin’ from the corners of your mouth, can hardly catch a breath as ya choke...”

Simon has to stop and reel himself back in or risk getting too worked up and he can’t take care of you if he’s out of his goddamn mind. That imagery has you quaking and he can see your body vibrating as you are itching to touch yourself and that’s when he knows exactly what he is going to do to get you off. Taking a deep breath he clears his throat, putting the control over himself to the forefront of his thoughts and starts again.  

“Well, if ya wanna keep seein’ it, I need ya to behave for me and follow my direction. You and I are gonna play pretend for a bit.”

Now more settled he gives his length a stiff stroke up and down slowly, making sure that the camera is glued to his movements. You can’t look away; those big doe-eyes are locked on as if you are wishing you could reach through the screen and touch him with any part of you that you could get to it first. It takes you a couple of minutes to notice anything other than the object of your desire, but as you look up Simon’s dark gaze meets yours through the shadow. 

“Ya like this, yeah? Me strokin’ my cock like this for you to watch? Ya know what’s gonna be even better? How fuckin’ good it’ll feel havin’ it buried deep inside ya again, fillin’ ya to the brim. Ya wanna be full of me again, don’tcha sweetheart? Come on, show me, use your fingers and let me see how much ya miss this fat fuckin’ cock stretchin’ ya out.”

You insert a finger through the lips of your pussy, thrust it inside your entrance, and begin rhythmically stroking against that sensitive bundle as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen to watch Simon stroking it right along with you. He gives you a minute to get started before he speaks again.

“That’s not enough if ya wanna pretend it’s me, pretty girl, I think ya need another two fingers in there at least.”

Simon is trying to stay calm, but it is taking every ounce of his willpower to watch you touch yourself and not immediately blow his load while grunting loudly at the feeling of coming so fast; still, he tries to keep his voice down so no one near can hear him. Slowly you insert another digit and then another so that your first three fingers are now resting just inside your hole, but again that isn’t enough for him. He wants to make this as real as he can. 

“Ya need to go deeper, all the way to the knuckles. Ya know I like to fuckin’ have it down to the base until ya can’t take another inch. Need this to be accurate, like I’m really there with ya.”

You comply, pushing up inside you until the entirety of your fingers are gone and you cannot get anymore in. Simon moans deep in his chest, pleased at how well you are following his orders. It takes some force, but the stroking of his hand sticks to a steady rhythm as he sets the speed for what’s to come. 

“Good girl, that’s it. Now slow it down, keep it steady, and listen to my voice, ya got it? We are gonna do this together. I want ya ta picture me crawling into bed and movin’ right up against ya. My hand turns your head towards me so I can start kissin’ those fuckin’ sweet lips of yours. So warm, so soft, the longer I kiss ya the more I need until I run my fingers through your hair so that I’m holdin’ the back of your head in my grip as I shove my tongue nearly down your throat. I’ve been starvin’ baby and soon I have our mouths pressed so tight together ya can hardly breathe. Just eyes closed, tongues tasting each other, gettin’ absorbed in the way they feel until our mouth’s are fuckin’ raw and burnin’. Only then do I start goin’ down your jawline and neck, so much deliciously smooth skin for me to taste.”    

The sound of tiny, breathy moans hits his ears and his heart thumps heavily in his chest. He hadn’t lied when he spoke about how he misses your music and the sound of it now has him in a goddamn stranglehold. Mix that with the live feed of you thrusting your fingers in and out of your tight hole as the natural lubrication starts to drip down your fingers with each stroke and he has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself sane.

“Gotta make sure you’re whinin’ and beggin’ me to give ya more before I move on. I’ll pull your top over your head so I can get at those gorgeous tits of yours. Fuck… gonna smother my face between them as I give them the care they need, kissin’ and bitin’ all that soft flesh to leave marks where I’ve been. Each one is gonna be in my mouth so I can use my tongue to flick ‘round your nipple as ya run your fingers through my hair to egg me on until ya can feel it in your clit.”

As he speaks he watches you fall back against the pillows and lift up your t-shirt to expose half of your chest. From this angle he catches a glimpse of the underside of one of your breasts, the edge of your nipple just within view before you cup it in your hand to massage the tissue against your palm and pinch the nipples as if you are trying to make his words come to life. 

“Can ya feel it baby? Can ya feel my hot fuckin’ mouth all over your tits? Christ, I swear I can taste them now; I want ‘em in my goddamn mouth so fuckin’ bad. Got my mouth waterin’.”

He has to swallow hard to stop himself from choking on his own saliva as his lips tingle, recalling the sensation of them against your skin as his hips begin to snap his cock up into his palm harder. 

“Ya know I’m gonna be so worked up that your not even gonna know what’s happening as I shove ya onto your back so that I can move down the bed and rip ya outta your fuckin’ pants. I need ya completely fuckin’ naked so that I can spread your thighs wide open. Gotta make sure I can get between them; wanna have plenty of space to play.”

Again you mimic his words, opening your already spread legs even wider the same way you’d have to do if he were to get in between them. If Simon’s heart thumps any faster it’s going to burst out of his chest; watching you act out this made up scenario is more erotic than he could have dreamed it would be.

“Imagine the feelin’ of my lips kissin’ up the length of those gorgeous thighs. With how much ya been missin’ me they’d already be so fuckin’ sensative that you’d be squirmin’ as soon as I make contact with my mouth. Maybe I’ll even give them a nibble, just for good measure. Ya always do look best wearin’ all my marks everywhere.”

His grip around his cock tightens as he listens close and catches your hummed reply before it sounds like your mouth falls open so that you moan a bit louder as your movements on screen begin to quicken and your hand switches positions to your other breast. Your fingers are starting to furiously pound into you, the pace picking up with each passing second as your desperation spills over at the sound of his voice describing all that fucking pleasure. But Simon is there to reel it all back in.

“Ah, ah, look up at me princess. Slow it back down there. That’s it, nice and steady for me. Don’t want this to be over too soon. Keep your eyes on my hand and follow my pace. We’re gonna get there together, alright?”

Picking your head up so that you can see the screen, your eyes focus on his hand and your strokes settle back to match his, though it does not go unnoticed how you do that little whimper of protest. It’s not easy being the bad guy in this situation, but Simon knows the more denial now, the harder you’ll come and the longer you’ll stay satisfied. And if there is one thing he will never stop doing is making sure his baby is satisfied. 

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweet thing. I promise we are almost there, just a bit more. Now, where was I? Oh yes, teasin’ those gorgeous thighs of yours. See I can’t move on until I’m happy with my work and I want those little red and purple blotches to be coverin’ all that pretty skin. Ya like when I claim ya like that? Makin’ it obvious that you’re mine? Anyone who sees that is gonna know that you’re bein’ taken care of.”

An open-mouthed moan and a nod of your head is all he’s getting now as you are too out of your mind to form words anymore at this point. Your half-lidded eyes gaze back at him as if you are trying to will him to come through the screen and pound you into the mattress; goddamn he’s going to fuck you so good when he gets back.

“Since I’ve decorated those beauties, I think they’ll need to be displayed and I can’t think of a fuckin’ better place than perched right on my shoulders. Besides, ya know what’s comin’ dontcha? That goddamn sweet little pussy has been callin’ to me since I got down there and now it’s finally time to give it the attention it deserves. Such a pretty thing, those soft petals of yours. You know I’m gonna have to give them a few kisses for good measure.”

Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad now the tastebuds along his tongue prickle as tries to capture that specific sweet, tangy taste in his memory. Why in the hell do you have to be so goddamn perfect?

“You will be pleadin’ with me, callin’ my name over and over until ya feel it. My warm tongue pushin’ itself against your lips and spreading them apart to move in between them. God, that first fuckin’ taste of ya is always my favorite, sweetheart…like goddamn honey. Gonna drag my tongue up the entire length of your cunt to make sure I get as much of ya in my mouth that I can. Then I reach your clit and that’s where I stay. I’ll be suckin’ and lickin’ to my hearts content while you buck against my face all you want; I like it when ya get rough with me. Nothin’ is gonna get me off of ya though, I got ya fuckin’ secured to my face with a tight grip that isn’t gonna let up no matter how ya move.”

The sound of you whimpering fills his ears and it makes his head feel like he’s floating. Your hips are bucking against your hand desperately and he knows you want to go a bit faster, but you are sticking to his set speed like a champ. He takes a couple of minutes to just watch you, wanting to etch this moment permanently in his brain, before he continues.

“I’m waitin’ for it, that moment ya go silent. That’s when I know it’s about to happen and I brace myself to feel your thighs crush against my head and block in my ears like a vice as ya come on my tongue. Do ya know how much I fuckin’ love when ya do that? Bein’ locked to your pussy like that, I would fuckin’ suffocate on ya and not even think twice. Keep me strapped to ya as long as ya want, baby, I’m gonna sit through it all until ya have nothin’ more to give to me. My tongue don’t tire easily, as ya already know.”

Your head falls back, but Simon can still hear you clearly repeating mindlessly your enjoyment of everything that he is talking about with moaned ‘yes’s and whined pleas to Jesus. 

“Can ya picture it? Me sittin’ back up, your cum all across my face? I will probably look like a wild beast with my mouth shimmerin’ and sticky, but I don’t fuckin’ care. Ya make me feral, so deranged that nothin’ else matters ‘cept you. Everything will go faster then: me gettin’ to my knees, pullin’ your hips onto my thighs as your legs still sit on my shoulders, my tip pressin’ against those damp petals covered in my spit and your cum. Eatin’ ya out gets me hard enough there’s no need to wait. Imagine the way it’ll feel when I’m pushing my tip through the threshold and stretching ya out completely. You’ll be cryin’ out as I help ya fit me all in…right down, all the way, fillin’ that cunt.” 

He’s panting now, the vision created in his mind so vivid that as he stimulates himself it feels too real. Of course his hand would never compare to your pussy, but with everything happening it is as if his brain is being tricked into believing that he is fucking you.

“Ya know I ain’t gonna waste anytime, not when I get ya wrapped ‘round me. It’ll be so wet and tight that I just begin poundin’ and poundin’ so hard that it has our bed squeakin’ underneath us from the fuckin’ force, slammin’ into the wall, makin’ your tits bouncing up and down as I go all in, your eyes waterin’ as get so fuckin’ deep it’s almost painful. Goddammit, baby, I want to see your eyes roll back in your head as it overwhelms ya.” 

His abs are clenching, simulating the act in real time as his limbs begin to feel heavy and the coil inside his stomach tightens. Heat is now rushing through his veins like hot water, making him warm from the inside out and it only fuels his imagination more.

“Or maybe I flip ya over and help ya up onto your knees, pullin’ outta only long enough to get ya situated holding onto the wall. Visualize me tuggin’ your hair in my fist to make your back arch so I can thrust right back in. Ya better make sure ya got a steady brace cause I’m gonna reach ‘cross your body and down the front of ya to that swollen clit, strokin’ it with my fingers as I thrust into ya from behind and I need ya to push back onto me. I wanna be able to whisper in your ear all them filthy things like how no one else can make my cock feel this good and how this pussy belongs to only me.”

It’s too much, too much buildup that he is not going to be able to hold off for very much longer. This is going to have to end one way or another and soon it is not going to be a choice anymore. His hand picks up the pace. 

“Go a little faster. That’s it, faster, baby, faster. I’m about to fuckin’ blow and your gonna come with me. Come on, come on… f-fuck… you’re so beautiful like this. No one looks better a fuckin’ mess than you do. And I wanna make ya so goddamn filthy baby. Where ya gonna want me to come, hmm? On your face, on your tits, your stomach… or maybe I won’t pull out at all. Stuff ya full until it’s drippin’ outta ya and I can watch once I’m done. You just imagine it where ya want it most, sweetheart.”

His hand is furiously stroking around his cock with an iron tight grip, running from tip to base, coating his hand in precum so that the next stroke is even smoother than the last. Faint whines escape his closed lips as he tries to stifle the sound by clamping his mouth shut. The entirety of his chest feels like it’s on fire and setting the phone down a second he rips the damned t-shirt he still has on up off his torso and over his head, only releasing his cock for the split second it takes to throw it off that arm and onto the floor. Quickly he grabs the phone and sets it back up. 

“You’re close, yeah? Ya got this, just keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes and stay with it. All ya gotta do now is just let go. Good girl, that’s it, let go for me. Come for me, baby, let me hear it.”

Simon watches your thighs shaking and toes curling into the mattress as you call out his name in a pitiful cry and your entire body vibrates, nearly shooting off the bed as you come and come hard. The welling of pressure deep inside him reaches its peak and with the sound of your cry it causes his body to clench, sending him rocketing over the edge violently as a muted grunt echoes in his chest. He angles is cock upward towards his stomach as the warm ejaculate pumps out of his tip, coating the muscles and hair along his abdomen as he milks himself through it until he has no more cum left to release.   

Vision hazy, legs vibrating, cock still twitching as his grip loosens, Simon takes a few minutes to simply breathe. The phone gets ignored for a moment as it lays resting on his thigh. Once he is able to calm enough to function, he picks back up the device and stares into the screen. You are laying flat on the mattress now, chest heaving up and down. Your legs are still splayed open and he can see the glorious product that he helped create catching the light as it coats the outside of your lips.  

“Fuck, ya did so well for me, sweetheart. God, that was fuckin’ fantastic.”

You roll to your side and look into the camera with a crooked, sleepy smile and he mimics it with one of his own. That should be all, everything that he had wanted to happen had in the best way, but there’s one thing he has left to do, one thing he wants to see before he lets you go. One last thing to replay in his mind to give him something to daydream about along with the rest.

“Bring the camera up closer, wanna see your beautiful face all flushed. There’s my sweet girl. Looks like I’ve made a mess of things for ya, but I don’t think ya mind much. I do want ya to do one more thing for me, though. I need ya ta clean up since I ain’t there to do it myself. Nothin’ too strenuous, just take your fingers and stick ‘em in your mouth; get all those juices off with your tongue. There ya go, lick ‘em clean, don’t ya waste any of that fuckin’ goodness.”

You do exactly as he says, using your tongue to pull your fingers between your lips where you suck and lick with gusto until they come back out completely clean and you show them to him with a smile. In that moment you are a goddess, the most gorgeous being he has ever laid his eyes upon, and Simon can only stare on at you in awe that he is so fucking lucky to have such a creature all to himself. 

“Fuck, I’m one lucky bastard,”  he says, barely audible.

There’s a bit of rustling that he can hear now coming from somewhere close and he knows his time is up. At least he got to finish what he started giving you everything that he can, though he does desperately wish he could stay on the call with you a bit longer, but he knows if he doesn’t end it now he might never do it and he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you like this. Gotta pull the bandaid off quick or else. 

“Hate to end this here, but it seems like our time is up. Wish I could stay, but ya know how it is. If I don’t go now I ain’t ever gonna do it. We’ll talk again soon, promise. You have a good day, pretty girl, alright? Dream of me later tonight, yeah? Cause I’m fixin’ to be dreamin’ of you.”

You blow him a kiss and with that the call ends; he is left back alone in the silence of the night in his bunk- alone. He grins to himself as he puts his phone away and cleans himself up, thinking about you laying back in bed exhausted, but content, all because of him and his efforts. And he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’ll get the chance to get you off like this again before his deployment ends. 

God he fucking hopes so.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart IV

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: A soft day off

"Well, good morning, sunshine," Ingrid coos as you wander out of your room.

You've got a major case of bedhead, still dressed in your crumpled pyjamas. You lift your arms up for uppies and Ingrid instantly puts you on her hip, turning back to stirring the eggs on the stovetop.

You're still very sleepy so Ingrid takes this moment to give you your medication.

"Open, please."

She drops the pills into your mouth and lets you swallow them down with a sippy cup of juice.

You're very good at taking your medication and it seems to perk you up a little as Ingrid dishes up breakfast.

It's a slow day, the last of the international break.

Ingrid's matches for Norway had finished earlier than other countries so she'd flown home immediately to get the most out of this day off before training started up again tomorrow.

"Would you go and get your Mami for me? I think she's still in bed."

You're helped down from the counter and wander off to Mami and Mama's room.

Mama was right, of course. Mami was still a lump in the middle of the bed, snoozing carelessly against her pillow. Bagheera sits next to her.

You know Mama told you to get Mami up but you spot her phone on charge a little way away and you go to grab it.

Tia Alexia has lots of games on her phone that she lets you play and you wonder if Mami has those games too.

Her phone is locked though so you can't check but you do spot her camera. You can use her camera app without logging in.

Mami and Mama use their camera apps a lot for lots of photos of you and them together. You've never used it on your own though and you're curious.

You swipe onto the app and adjust it so it's showing Mami and Bagheera in frame. There's a ray of sun coming in through the curtains and you want to capture that too.

The shutter sounds when you press the button and Mami jerks awake.

Her movement shocks Bagheera off the bed and she rubs her eyes. Mami looks around in shock before her features soften when she looks at you.

"Good morning, sunshine," She says," Is that my phone?"

"Morning, Mami!" You chirp, climbing up onto the bed with her," I took a picture!"

You can't access it without logging in so Mami unlocks her phone so you can show it to her.

Her mouth is wide open, mid snore, and Bagheera's got her leg sticking upright as she cleans herself. But you've got the sunbeam very clearly on camera so you're very happy.

Mami laughs. "That's a nice picture!"

"I know!" You giggle as she tickles your tummy. "Oh! Mama said it's time for breakfast! She made eggs!"

"Well, we can't leave Mama by herself! Vamos, sunshine!"

Your favourite days are days off. You get to cuddle with Mama and Mami and get lots of kisses because they love you so much.

You eat breakfast on the sofa for once in front of the tv before you migrate to playing with Bagheera on the floor. She's got a bell on a string that you wave at her.

She bats it a few times before grabbing the bell in her mouth and pulling the stick from your hand.

You giggle and Bagheera cocks her head to the side at the sound.

She looks adorable and you pat Mami's leg.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Can I have your phone please?" You ask and Mami hands it to you.

You swipe onto her camera quickly and take your pictures of Bagheera looking very cute. She gets bored eventually of sitting in the same spot and curls up in her kitty bed and you migrate back up onto the sofa.

Mama adjusts you so you're on her lap and she pulls up your shirt to run her fingers over your Santa Heart scars.

She does that a lot. She checks them twice every day. Usually when you wake up and then at bathtime. She says that it's just so she knows they're healing correctly but they've been healed for a while now and Mami says it's because Mama is a worrier.

You smile at her though and raise the camera up to take a picture of her face.

You laugh at the silly face she pulls so you snap a few more.

"Mami!" You whine when Mami tries to take her phone back.

"I need it, sunshine," She laughs," It's not just a camera, you know."

You think of the camera hanging in Mama and Mami's room. You know you're not allowed to touch it by yourself because it's big and heavy and it's for the pictures when Mami thinks Mama is looking especially beautiful.

You think that you'd like a camera like that so you ask. You asked Santa for a new heart and you got it. You ask Mama for a camera for yourself too.

"Like Mami's, please?"

Mama hums as she thinks about it, carding her fingers through your hair. "That's a little big for you, sunshine. Maybe when you're older."

You deflate. "Oh."

"But we can get you a polaroid," Mama continues," That's good for your age and it means that your pictures immediately get printed out too."

"Really?" You perk up again.

"We'll pick one out together," Mami says, already booting up her laptop." Come here. Let's have a look."

[jojissalsa]

Perfect body, Pretty face

Warnings: dom!Leon x fem/sub!reader, power dynamics (boss/assistant), daddy kink, mentions of nudes/sex work, taking pictures during sex, facial, condescension, slight praise, mentions of age gap (reader is in mid 20s), clothes ripping (tights), reader is bratty at some point.

hello again :3 i wanna post what i can while i have the time, so i can kinda build this page up. hope u guys enjoy this one even if i feel like i made a few mistakes and lmk where i can improve! constructive criticism, reposts and requests are always welcome :D (minors don’t interact, touch grass.)

WC: 3.3k (proofread)

When Leon first came to the D.S.O, he expected bigger missions and harder work. Not boring ass reports and paperwork. The missions were definitely longer, which meant piles atop piles of paperwork that would take longer than it should. When the D.S.O realized Leon needed more time on his reports compared to the rookies or standard agents, they gave him a hand. You, his new assistant. And god, were you helpful. You were more than a sight for sore eyes, you were distracting at first, but even more so as he got to know you. You even remembered his favorite coffee order, and what he liked most for lunch. To him, you were just doing a good job. But in reality, you just wanted to get in his pants more than anything.

Your last boss was such a douchebag, the typical mansplaining and ungratefulness. But Leon? He was such a sweetheart, and so understanding. He didn’t get annoyed when you made a tiny mistake, a couple minutes late or working slower at the end of your shift. You knew damn well your attraction to him was bad for you and this job, but Eve still ate that apple didn’t she? You were the same, always attracted to forbidden fruit. But when it was Leon, who cares about forbidden? It just adds to the flavor. Obviously being an assistant didn’t make the most money, but at least you got a pretty face to work with. And there’s no shame in a side hustle, right? That’s what you thought when you made a Twitter account when you first became an assistant, well, intern at first. The job was so damn stressful and your shitty boss didn’t help. It was harmless fun at first, posting a few lewd pictures of your cleavage or in cute two-piece bathing suits you got. And then it got even lewder, posting pictures of your bare tits, dim lighting from your computer, things like that until you said fuck it and showed all the goods. Complaining about your shitty boss became part of your brand, as well as the faceless part of your nudes. You never showed your face, only your hair if it was a full body picture, not because you were ashamed of what you were doing. Not in the slightest, actually. You were just worried about word spreading around the office, especially since you were getting fairly popular. No face, no case, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone had x-ray vision to see if you had the same tits. It’s not like it hurt business either, you had a perfect body. You weren’t the skinniest person in the world, average like most people’s bodies. But to you, it was perfect. It suited you and flaunting it made you happy.

Your brand definitely shifted when you changed bosses, less complaining about how much your job sucked to more complaining about how badly you needed your boss to look at you differently. Pictures of you up-skirt under your desk whenever he wasn't looking or left to grab you both coffee or lunch, captions that always mentioned him.

"is it bad that my boss gets me this wet?"

"wish my boss would crawl under my desk and take care of this ;p"

And they would only get more and more risky. Posts of your increasingly skimpy outfits and a courtesy picture of you out of them captioned "you guys think my boss will like? lol". A video of you cumming in the bathroom at work, another where you cheekily slipped your fingers in your cunt, rubbing your slick over your clit before giggling as you turn the recording off.

Leon really didn’t mean to find something of yours this personal, he was just a guy looking for porn where he knew he could find it. He may be old but the man still needs to get off. And he was a man of taste, he liked the amateur stuff, and he knew Twitter had it. When he stumbled across your account, he thought it was perfect. At first he didn't know it was you, but by your most recent posts, it was obvious. You never name dropped him, or even said what he looked like, only saying he was fine and looked like a dilf, which was definitely an ego boost when he figured out it was you. It was easy, really. He was bored at night, couldn’t sleep like usual, and hoped that jacking off would clear his head a bit. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest when he saw your most recent video. It was of you working overtime, fingering yourself on his desk. Biting your lip to stay quiet but failing miserably as your fingers keep rubbing against that spongy spot in your walls, palm slapping against your clit. The best part? You said his name while you came. Maybe not his full name, but the way you let it out subconsciously, saying "Mr. Kennedy" in the most pornographic way possible, realizing you did and then giggling when you felt no remorse. Only an "oh shit" and a cutesy laugh as you abruptly ended the video. He was gonna say something tomorrow. He had to.

The second you walk in the door with that polite smile you always have, cute pink blouse and short pencil skirt, he waves you over to his desk. "Y/n, come here for a sec." His stern tone makes you blush and immediately walk over after setting down your bag. "Yes, sir? Is there something you need from me?" You expect him to say he needs a file or some kind of paper, but he shocks you when he turns his monitor around to show your twitter page. "You know anything about this?" You don't show it on your face, but the way you clench your jaw makes it obvious. You've got a good poker face, he'll give you that. "No sir, am I supposed to?" You get a bit of an attitude, mainly because he just totally called you out. "I don't know, you tell me." He scrolled very little down to your last post, the video. You gulp, knowing damn well you said his name. "Is that you saying my name?" His tone is still stern, but it feels more teasing now, considering his cocky smirk. He has you in a corner. "Don't you think it's a little sleazy to be prying into my personal hobbies?" Your attitude gets more prominent, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp glare. You were more prideful than anything, his smugness starting to piss you off because of how turned on you were getting. "Don't you think it's a bit slutty to finger fuck yourself on my desk?" When he shot back at you with that you froze, face going completely red. Not only was he right, you had no room to talk about his habits, but the way he said it was so fucking hot it lit a fire in you, shockwaves shooting straight to your clit.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, your lips parted as you felt your pulse throbbing between your thighs, knowing your panties were soaked. "You gonna say something or just come over here already? Stop wasting my time, I have work to do." It was instant when he said that, hips swaying as you walked to him, holding your hands in front of you as you looked down at the ground. "What's got you all shy? You certainly weren't shy last night." His teasing was really getting to you, making your lips squeeze as you shift your thighs again, your chest feeling so heavy with every breath you took. "Didn't I tell you not to waste my time? Sit on my desk and spread your legs." Your breath hitches at his demanding words, hopping up on his desk and spreading your legs. You thank god that it was a little chilly today, making you wear sheer black tights. Not that you'd be wearing them long, you just hope the wet spot on your panties wasn’t noticeable. "Jesus, soaked through your fucking tights? You're that excited?" His teasing made you go wide eyed, whimpering at his smug gaze piercing through you. "Yes sir.." You finally manage to speak, even if it sounds breathless and needy. Your eyes stay steady on him, taking in every feature you can. You lick your lips from the sight of his hard cock pressed against his tight slacks, not daring to close your legs in the slightest even if you were desperate for friction. "See something you like?" You watch him palm over his hard on, just watching something that sinful makes you moan softly. "I thought you said not to waste your time? What are you waiting for?" You throw any bit of shyness out the window, brattiness taking its place instead. After all, he meddled into something private, why make it easy for him? That’s no fun~

His brows furrowed as he gives you an annoyed look, groaning in frustration as he shoots up from his office chair and grabs your waist, pulling you from his desk and flipping you to bend over. He certainly doesn't waste any time now, pulling your skirt up and ripping a massive hole in your tights, making you gasp and squirm, turning your head to try and see the damage. "Don't complain, no point in denying you like it. Why else are your panties fucking drenched?" You throw him a frustrated glare before grumbling something about those being expensive under your breath. "Sorry, what was that?" You gasp as his hand slams down harshly on your ass cheek, whining at his gentle kneading on the now stinging red spot. "You're trying so hard to be bratty, when you're usually such a sweet girl. Always coming here early, bringing me coffee, remembering my favorite lunch. You don't do that because you like this job, hell, a slut like you doesn’t care about working hard. You do it because you want my attention." His hand keeps kneading the fat of your ass, making you back up into his palm for more. That doesn't stop your attitude though. "Oh boo hoo, as if you didn't love every second of it. How'd you even find my page? The nursing home gives you internet after 10?" Your bitchy tone doesn't go unnoticed by him, and neither does your smug smirk that is clearly challenging him, if anything it lights the same fire inside him, dick twitching under his slacks. He shoots you a glare that says "you really wanna do this?", as if you care about that silly warning. What's the worst he could do? "Y'know they shouldn't give a pervy old man like you access to stuff like that, it rots your brain~" You get cut off by another slap on your ass, harder than the last one, he doesn't even bother to soothe the sting with his hand. "Pervy old man? Then what are you? Some slut thinking of her boss's cock all day. How high and mighty." Another slap, and you're already unraveling by the second, the tingling sensation from his spanks sending shock after shock to your clit.

"You go on and on about me on that damn site for thousands to see, so why not take what you want? You're getting nowhere by being an ungrateful brat." He's really starting to make sense with how desperate you are to be touched, for that release you so desperately need. And with how hard his spanking is getting, it's making your head dizzy. He presses his hard-on against your ass, making you whine and grind against him. That's not enough for him though, he needs you to say it, the same way you said his name last night. "C'mon pretty girl, get what you want and ask for it, I know you can." He grinds against your ass, finally snapping through the sane part of your brain. "Fuck! Fine, please, please give it to me, I can't wait anymore, please Mr. Kennedy.." You beg in a gravelly voice, nails digging into his desk as the neediness in you builds. "Need what? You can say it." He slaps your ass again, a little gentler now that you're finally getting there, sliding his hand down to press his thumb on the gusset on your panties, hissing at how wet it felt. "Your cock, Leon, please, I need your cock so bad.." You whimper in broken fragments from your voice breaking, sighing in relief as he finally pulls down your panties, feeling your slick connect to them in strings and the cool air contrasting how hot you feel. As you heard the sound of metal clinking and a zipper pulled down you wished he flipped you over, because you really wanted to see his cock, turning your head in a desperate attempt to steal a quick glance. "Don't worry baby, you'll get a good look later." You don't care enough to question him, you care more about his tip pressed against your folds, threatening to stretch you open.

The coil of anticipation that's released when he finally slides inside you is the most euphoric feeling, growling as he fills you completely, balls nestled right against your clit. "Fuck, barely had to do anything and it slipped in so easy. Like you were made to take this cock, huh, sweetheart?" He goes slow at first, letting you adjust to his thick size, agonizing in how slow he drags his cock along your walls. All you can mutter is 'yes' like a mantra to keep you in reality, but every stroke is sending you further into that cloudy part of your brain where all you can think about is how you can feel everything. His hands on your hips to keep you in place, the way his cock kisses right against your cervix then pulls all the way out just to make you drunk off the feeling, his low and heavy grunts dangerously close to your ear, and it's all getting you even more impatient and needy. "Leon, please, go faster, need it faster." You speak through broken sobs and high pitched whines, looking back at him with a pleading pout. You can't say no to this cute face, can you? His nails dig into your hips, finally fucking you faster, and so much harder, you can feel the air in your lungs get choked out with every harsh thrust. "Just can't help yourself, can you? So fucking impatient." He can hear you getting louder, and between you and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin, he can at least silence one. "So loud, the whole fucking office can probably hear you." He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls your head up, body arching backwards as your head meets his shoulder. You can barely make out his smug grin as he looks down at you, glossy eyes with blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You look so pretty like this, looking up at me without a thought in that pretty little head. Just needed Daddy to fuck you stupid, huh?" He gets a wicked chuckle at your wide eyes, the way you clench tighter and move your hips to meet his rhythm. You curse yourself mentally for tweeting about that godforsaken daddy kink you have, or any of your kinks because now he knows every little thing that makes you tick. How frustrating. "Ohhh, didn't think I would look that far? You have no idea, spent hours looking at your stuff, even during missions I couldn't help but think about this sweet pussy wrapped around my cock." Your expression goes blank at his words, completely cockdrunk. You know you shouldn't do any of this, you can only imagine how much trouble you’d be in if someone walked in right now. But who could blame you? You couldn't name a single person who would throw away an opportunity like this. Who needs responsibility when you could have the simple yet intense pleasure that Leon Kennedy brings?

"Almost went crazy when I heard my name in that dirty fucking mouth, never been that hard in my life. Gonna make sure that mouth is full of my name every chance I get." You scream and whimper, the sound rumbling against his hand as you get closer and closer, toes curling into your heels. The sight is so damn beautiful to him, and he just has to see what you look like when you cum in person. When you cum on his cock, not some silly toy that could never satisfy you the way he can. His free hand takes its time sliding up your blouse to palm your tits over your bra, his fingers raking over the soft skin of your stomach before stilling at your bunched up skirt around your waist, right above your clit. "You wanna cum, don't you, baby? You're gonna be good and ask nicely, yeah? Go ahead, tell Daddy you wanna cum." He moves his hand away from your mouth but keeps your head up, gripping your face instead, watching as you greedily suck in air between mindless moans. "Please Daddy, please, please, please let me cum, need to cum so fucking bad-" Your pathetic babbling cuts off when his fingers put pressure on your clit, rubbing fast circles that make your brows frown as your walls clench, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. "There you go, such a good girl, asking me so nicely. Cum for me, sweet girl, cum on my cock for me." And you do, harder than you have in a while, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see white spots, those sweet, broken sobs leaving your lips involuntarily, moaning his name as he slows down.

Before you know it, you're on your knees in front of him, finally getting a full, up close and personal view of his fat cock. He's thick, pre-cum pearling at his tip as he uses your slick to finish himself off, fisting his cock feverishly. "Told you you'd get a better look, now open up sweetheart. Gonna cover that pretty face in my cum, maybe even take a picture for those depraved little boys that get off on you." He’s one to talk.. His grunts and soft whimpers between his words make you bite back an eager grin, lolling your tongue out and getting blessed with the salty taste on his tip. You keep your lips pursed on his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes that make his cock kick in his hand, your own hands resting on his thighs. He pulls some hair away from your face with his free hand and keeps it there as he finally coats your cheeks and tongue with pools of cum, chuckling through breathless moans as he slaps his cock on your tongue. He grabs his phone as his free hand leaves your hair to press his thumb on your tongue, keeping your mouth open. He groans with a smug smirk as you look up into the camera, a clear, empty head as drool dribbles down your chin and onto his fingers holding your chin. "You'll get this picture tonight when I drive you home, 'kay?" He helps you back to your feet, cleaning off your face with his handkerchief and pulling your skirt down, fixing your wrinkled blouse. “Now go finish those reports for me, try not to work too slow, don’t wanna work overtime, do you?” He softly strokes your back, coaxing you closer to your desk. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy.." You breathe out, still wobbly on your feet as you walk to your desk, feeling the sting on your ass as you sit down, shivering at the tingle. Worth it.

[lewdmommie]

No Expectations

Summary: y/n now has to navigate new complex feelings with König she didn’t have before.

Jealouskönigxreader💗

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, Rough sex, raw sex, oral sex, language, angst, size kink, praise/degradation etc

Word count: 4.k

(Comment, reblog and follow)

This is part 2 of One night stand

Part 3

“No.” Ghost doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever document he’s scribbling on.

“Please, I’ll do any other cruel and unusual punishment you have lined up for me.” You plead.

“You don’t get to argue the terms of your probation. König is who you’re training with, no questions asked.” He says through clenched teeth.

“Why can’t I just work with someone else. There’s plenty of people on base.” You reach over snagging a mint from the decorative bowl at the corner of his desk. His eyes follow your movements. It wasn’t like you to not get along with someone, everyone on base either loved you or felt indifferent. Of course there was a handful that weren’t the nicest because of your popularity but König wouldn’t fall into that category. “Why do you want to switch partners? Did something happen between you two?” His question makes your eyes widen remembering how König was balls deep inside you just a few nights ago. Luckily ghost's eyes are locked on the paperwork in front of him. You stand turning your back to him, hiding the hot flush that creeps onto your cheeks.

“It’s nothing like that.” You say with false confidence. The small crack in your voice catches his attention. What was this feeling at the pit of his stomach, a feeling that made his jaw tense and heart pound. He finally looks away from the paper, capturing your gaze with an intensity that makes goosebumps prickle at your skin. He rises to his feet, palms planted firmly on the surface of the desk. “Fine. I won’t pry…I don’t have any other expendable men.” He rasps.

“What about you? It’s just three hours and it’s after work hours. We both know you don’t have a life serg.” You chuckle. If you had X-ray vision you would see the irritated expression under the mask.

“I am your superior. That means I have actual work to do unlike you sorry excuses for soldiers.” He flips through the piles of paperwork.

“That isn’t very nice sergeant, you’ve got to be more pleasant in the workplace.” You tease walking around the office space, touching things as you go.

There is a tall bookcase in the corner that catches your eye. Thick spined books with elegant writing line the shelves. Along with a small cactus and tank figurines, a picture frame stands out. A beautiful brunette woman holding a baby wrapped in a tiny blue blanket , smiles at the camera in a dated looking room. A shadow cast behind you, turning around, you're faced with a huge vest covered chest. He takes the frame lifting it over your head to sit on the top shelf. He smells of gunpowder and a Smokey musk, your back bumps the case as he steps closer. Naturally your eyes close not sure what exactly you were waiting on to happen. His arm retracts holding a black leather covered book with silver embroidery.

“Who was that woman?” You exhale as he steps away walking back to his desk.

“No one.” He flips through the pages, nodding to himself as if he’d found what he was looking for.

“Who was that baby? I didn’t know you had a kid, that must mean you’re married…who would marry you serg you’re so serious all the time.” You plop your butt onto the desk. He shakes his head fighting the urge to add another week to your probation for sitting on his desk. His gaze sharpens.

“The child is not mine.” He says.

“Oh a scandal, who’s child is it? I can’t believe your wife would do that to you sergeant, need a hug?” You open your arms beckoning him forward.

“I am not married. Don’t you have toilets to clean. Get out.” He pushes your hip off his desk.

“We haven’t even come to an agreement yet!” You exclaim, feet hitting the ground.

“Fine. I will train with you just for today if it’ll get you out of my office.” He offers.

“The rest of the week.” You barter.

“Two days.” He responds.

“Four.” You fold your arms.

“Three. Final offer rookie.” He shakes his head.

“Fine, three days is better than one.”

“You’ll be the one to inform König you’re switching partners.” The computer keyboard clicks as he enters something into the database. At this point he had to be getting off to your embarrassment, if looks could kill he’d be a goner. Ghost didn’t tolerate taking the easy way out, if two people had issues on base they would be addressed and resolved quickly. He always said there wouldn’t be war within our army.

“I-fine i'll tell him.” You sigh knowing he wouldn’t budge.

“Good,now leave, I’m busy.” He waves you off without glancing up.

~

Three days. That should be enough time for things to cool down between you and König, you think, grabbing a lunch tray. The line moves steadily as the staff ladles today's lunch onto each plate.

You smile at the older lady behind the table, holding out your tray.

“y/n, I’ve got your lunch packed up right here for you.” She bends down grabbing a brown paper bag with your name scribbled on it. She nods apologetically, placing the bag on your plate, peanut butter and jelly again…yum.

“Y/n! Over here!” A cute brown skinned woman with luscious dreadlocks waves you over. Maya. You and Maya enlisted at the same time, basically going through the whole process together. Without her, you don’t know how long you would have lasted here. when you two found out you’d be stationed at the same base it felt like fate intended for you to stay with each other, She’s the entire reason you planned to reenlist. Unfortunately your closeness meant she could see right through you, so you had to find a way to keep her off your trail.

“Hey May thanks for holding my seat.” You sit across from her.

“No problem you’d do the same for me.” She jokes biting into her apple. You unroll the wrinkled paper bag that looked like it could have something illegal inside of it. You pull out a poorly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with a juice box and an orange. Your nose scrunches at the thought of tasting sticky peanut butter and sickly sweet grape jelly again. You look longingly at Maya’s lunch, your stomach growls in envy.

“Peanut butter and jelly again I can’t believe ghost, do you want to trade lunches?” She pushes her tray towards you. You shake your head unwrapping the plastic and taking a bite of your sandwich.

“I like the pain.” You say in a playful tone.

“You’re such a freak.” She laughs rolling her eyes.

The mess hall echoed with chatter from various conversations, every table for lack of a better word, had their own cliques. It wasn’t like some cheesy highschool movie but everyone had their own friend groups they’d break off with during lunch. Guys like Ghost and König didn’t dine in the mess hall so when you see König leaned up against the wall watching you, it completely catches you off guard.

“What’s his deal?” Maya asks not even trying to hide the fact that she was staring back.

“We had a disagreement.” You sip your juice box averting your gaze from him.

“No way, you’ve been telling me how you two were getting along so well. Did something happen? I’ll kick his ass right now.” She says in a serious tone. König stood at 6ft 6inches tall with the body of a tank but Maya was statuesque at 5’11 inches tall with an extremely toned physique. He was strong but so is Maya, she trains with the men for fun. After long days of them making sexist jokes, She loved beating the shit out of them. She can squat 250+ pounds easily so you definitely don’t take her threat lightly.

“It wasn’t like that Maya, this one might be on me. I’ve been avoiding the issue instead of talking it out with him…” you trail biting the sandwich.

“Well then it sounds like you know what to do.” She touches your hand, nodding in his direction.

“Yeah…you’re right. I am a part of the special military forces. I’m not afraid of a conversation.” You shoot up ready to deliver the news of your new partnership with ghost.

Your legs wobble as you walk to the trash, throwing away your tray. You can feel his eyes follow your every move as you snake through the cafeteria full of people. He’s leaning against the wall with one leg, arms folded, peering down at you. His body language was reserved, there was an invisible wall stacked between you two.

“König I-“ you start.

“-We will not be speaking during work hours rookie.” He says coldly.

“König please I-“ he interrupts you again.

“Colonel König.”

“Colonel König. I need to talk to you about something.” You whisper.

“You’ll have to schedule an appointment during my office hours.” His voice is flat.

“You know what, fine, fuck this.” You storm off, fed up with his distance. His hand twitches fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back. Instead he watches as you slip further away from him. Truth is…he was scared. Scared that you’d reject him and that you’d felt everything that happened was just a mistake. He found himself pulling back before you could deliver the final blow. Your departure in the middle of the night showed him what he needed to know about your feelings for him. It was just a one night stand, nothing more…Right? If that was the case why was his chest tight at the idea that he’d just hurt you.

~

“You’re slow!” Ghost barks as your body hits the mat. You cough, holding your side. He stares down at you with impatient eyes, waiting for you to reset.

“Again.” He orders as you stand rubbing your ribs.

If he was holding back, you’d hate to feel his full power, he could toss you around like it was nothing. With your feet planted firmly on the ground, you step one foot back allowing more range for your dominant hand. Your fists are raised, just as König taught you, protecting your jaw. Ghost swings left punching the barrier of your forearms, it hurts, but your guard doesn’t break. You duck his right hook taking the advantage and hitting him with a quick body shot to the gut. He stumbles crashing into one of the wooden pillars in the training room. You advance keeping your guard up, to his surprise you rush him jabbing the hard material of his mask. One of your weak points was the inability to strike someone when they’re down. If he didn’t have military grade training, the mask would have shattered from the force of your blows. Before that can happen he attacks low, swiping your knees from under you. Your back crashes onto the mat, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze from the impact trying to catch your breath. Ghost towers over you with both wrists locked in his iron grip. You can hear him breathing heavily, his chest pressing against your with every exhale. Your legs wrap around him in an attempt to get the upper hand, he doesn’t budge as you try to flip his body. He chuckles at your struggle lifting your arms above your head to show off his strength. “Give up.” He pants as you wiggle beneath him.

“That isn’t what you taught me now is it?” Your hips buck against his waist. A tiny whimper escapes his lips, his hand lets your wrist loose to replace it on your leg. His cock strains in the tight confines of his cargos, if not for the thick material, you’d have felt him poking your inner thigh. Utilizing your center gravity, you rock your body using his weight to roll completely over, landing on top of him. Your legs straddle his thighs. without thinking, his big hands grab your waist balancing you.

“Who was that woman in the picture?” He struggles under you, your knees tense, locking him in place. Now he quite literally couldn’t run from the question.

“No one.” He doesn’t budge.

“She must be important if you won’t talk about her.” You implore.

“Since when are we worried about each other's personal lives?” He relaxes, no longer fighting back.

“Whenever I bring it up, you get this pained look in your eye…like something changed you. Like a piece of you is still hurting.” Your voice softens. His heart thumps at your words, he can no longer look you in the eyes. He wanted to fight the urge to let you in, to have you truly know him. No one knew him and that’s the way he likes it . If no one gets attached, then no one would be put in danger because of him. He didn’t trust himself to protect the ones he cared for after what happened.

“She was my mother.” He says finally.

“Was? What happened to her?” You lean down to hear him better, your face inches from his.

“I couldn’t protect her.” his voice was barely a whisper. You both jump as the training room door creaks open.

“Sorry I’m late y/n-“ König freezes with a tense jaw and clenched fist. After the heated moment earlier he planned to apologize for his behavior at practice today. He had decided to conquer his fears and give you guys a real shot. He wanted to confess his true feelings today when you two had some alone time but things just changed. You scramble off of ghost’s lap standing to your feet clumsily. König takes a step back as you approach him.

“This is what I was trying to tell you earlier…me and ghost will be training together for the next three days…” you ramble.

“Right. Then I’ll just leave you two to do your ‘training’.” He backs into the doorway turning on his heels. He wanted to go back there and beat Sergeant Ghost’s face in, break every finger he laid on you. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you back home and pound every ounce of anger he had into you. He wanted everyone to know you were his…but you weren’t and he had to accept that. He couldn’t stop you from exploring other options but he wouldn’t sit back and watch either. Ghost sits up watching the whole thing play out, he could see the anger seething off of König. He got the exact same feelings right before a mission, that sense of imminent danger. This was more than some silly fight between the two of you, he realized that now. He realized what you meant to König and now what you meant to him. His heart drops as he watches you run after König, he thinks about calling after you but chokes back the words.

“König please wait!” You yell running behind him. You grunt as he stops suddenly, making you slam into his back.

“What is there to talk about y/n? You don’t owe me anything.” He mutters.

“I know this sounds like bullshit but that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“You’re right it does sound like bullshit.” He says.

“I just needed a break from this…from us. Just for a few days.” You explain.

“You’ve made it painfully clear there is no us.” He snaps. His head shakes as if he wanted to say more but instead he walks away leaving you alone in the hall.

~

“How was your day” Maya asks, slipping on her purple bonnet.

“Horrible. May, do you think I’m a good person?” You ask, climbing in her bunk. She welcomes you with open arms, stroking your head gently. You nessel into her embrace, finding comfort in her touch. Maya always knew the right things to say, you could count on her to make you feel better after hard days.

“Of course I think you’re a good person y/n. What makes you ask something like that?” She strokes your hair, looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“I just needed to hear it.” she pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She states seriously.

“I know.” You sigh.

“Well you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” She assures.

“Thank you may I love you.” You kiss her cheek before throwing your legs over the bunk and walking to your bed.

“I love you too weirdo, goodnight.” She rolls over pulling the cover up to her neck.

~

“Wider.” Ghost orders, slipping two fingers in your open mouth. You suck desperately, wiggling your ass in anticipation. A large warm hand pushes your thighs apart exposing your dripping slit, your back arches as they flick your beating bud. Who? You turn your body and behind you is a half lidded König looking back. His green eyes stare into your soul as he slides a thick finger inside you, pulling it out achingly slow before pumping it back inside again. Your gaze is snatched away by ghost and met with a stiff twitching cock. Clear pre-cum oozes from his flustered tip, using his thumb he gently opens your mouth, sliding his head over the plush of your lower lip. He hisses as you take him in fully, hollowing your cheeks to take him even deeper. You gasp as König stretches you with another finger, stroking the deepest parts of you. Wet squelching fills the space as your pussy drools with arousal. Saliva dribbles down your chin as your head bobs, swallowing as much of him as your body allowed. His head falls back as his tip is met with the back of your warm velvet throat. You gag, making your throat quiver around him, his hips rock sporadically , fingers tangled in your hair. “S’fucking good baby…that’s it you’re making me feel so good-“ Ghost whimpers, head lolling back.

“Ahhh uhn…” You groan, mouth full, as König runs the flat of his tongue up your split, licking away your slippery nectar. His tongue pets your stiff clit, sucking and licking every inch of your inner sex. His five O’clock shadow rubs against your sensitive lips as he pushes deeper, snaking his tongue inside your tight hole. Your jaw goes slack as he tastes you from the inside fucking you with his wriggling tongue.

“Focus on me.” Ghost growls tilting your face to meet his fuck drunk eyes. His hips move aggressively, pounding the back of your throat without mercy. He pulls out admiring the long glistening trail of spit connecting the two of you before thrusting back in.

“Are you ready to take me Prinzessin?(princess)” König calls, planting soft kisses down your back. You nod your head attempting to say yes but all he hears are small moans and gags. He lines himself between your plush thighs, his tip pushes past the barrier of soft skin. You can feel his dick pulsing so close to your needy cunt you begin to whine, you shake your ass hoping to inch him closer. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He grunts, stroking your inner thighs with his cock. Your womanhood is soaking wet at the idea that these two monsters were using your body to get off too. “Your thighs feel just as good as that pretty pussy between your legs” he moans fucking your thighs. Ghost pulls back, slapping the curved underside of his dick on your swollen blushed lips.

“Are you tired baby, do you want me to cum?” He teases rubbing his head over your smooth skin.

“She doesn’t deserve to cum yet sergeant.” König slams into you with one long stroke. Ghost follows suit, ramming the back of your throat and trapping your screams inside. König grips your waist holding you still as he absolutely rails you, your pussy flutters with each stroke. His curved dick kisses your sweet spot with every thrust, your walls clench around him when he pulls back. Your entrance squeezes his tip, trying to suck him deeper. With short frustrating thrusts, he fucks you using just the tip of his cock.

“You’re so greedy, you already have a cock in your mouth…and you’re telling me you want more?” He flicks his hips rutting deep inside you. His fingers dig into your hips so hard you knew it’d leave a bruise. They rock your body between them using every piece of you to make themselves cum. You hear an audible ‘pop’ as König uses his spit to lubricate his finger before teasing the only hole that wasn’t full. Slapping sounds fill the air as he pounds into you, massaging your tight little hole. Ghost starts moving faster, making tears fall down your cheeks from overstimulation.

“That slutty mouth is begging for my cum isn’t it?” He chokes, his dick spasming in your mouth.

He makes an inhuman noise as he slams into you one final time before shooting thick salty cum down your throat. König’s nails dig into your hips as he fucks you so hard, your stomach aches. He reached around grabbing your throat as his pace picks up…he was close.

“Can’t take anymore p-please König I’m so close” you cry, eyes rolling back.

“I love the way you beg.” He impales you one last time going as deep as your pussy allowed him. His cock trembles inside you as hot cum shoots from his pulsing tip. You fall to the bed in exhaustion, shaking like a leaf.

~

You wake up to the nagging sound of your alarm. Oh no you think pulling the covers up to your chest.

The sheets were soaking wet, if you didn’t remember last night's dream you’d have sworn you had an accident. Honestly you’d prefer if the infamous toilet dream was the culprit but that wasn’t the case here. This was a good old fashioned wet dream. You’ve had your fair share of wet dreams but König and Ghost…you had to be out of your mind. your brain probably used yesterday's events to generate some random dream sequence, it couldn’t mean anything. You stand, quickly stripping the sheets and making your way to the showers to wash off last night’s dream-like fun.

You get dressed and book it to the janitors closet to get a head start on your chores…something you never did. You couldn’t face either of them now, you decide to just bury yourself in your work. How could you talk This out? What would you say “hey I had a dream you two completely dominated me so we can’t chat right now?”. You’d rather die than ever admit something like that. Maybe this was a sign it was time to really think about your feelings. You need to truly understand how your heart works so nobody else would get hurt. You wondered where König was and what he was doing. Was he thinking about you the way you were thinking of him? You move the mop absentmindedly along the tile floor. You felt so safe with König, his laugh could light up a room, he was beautiful inside and out. But something about Ghost intrigued you and left you wanting more. You had to come up with a fair way to get to know both of them without anyone getting hurt.

~

“Maya, what if I wanted to date two people at once?” You lean over the lunch table so no one else would hear you. She’s quiet for a second, waiting for you to laugh but she sees how serious you are.

“What the hell are you talking about y/n?” She plops an orange slice in her mouth.

“Just hypothetically, how would you go about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Well…communication. Both parties would have to have a mutual understanding. Consent is key.” She explains.

“So just show your interest in the idea and inform them of the terms?”

“Right, but the real question is why would you want to do something like that?” She tilts her head.

“First of all it’s hypothetical, and second why should someone have to choose between two people they barely know. Shouldn’t they get the chance to atleast get to know each person.” You take a disgusting bite of your sandwich.

“Well…the person can try being friends with them first. That way there are no expectations.”

“What if they are stubborn and expect an answer right away?” You ask doe eyed. Maya pats your head supportively.

“Then they aren’t the ones for you.” You nod, shooting from your chair.

“God you’re so smart. I gotta go! See you later!” You yell back running out of the mess hall leaving your half eaten lunch.

~

You burst through ghosts office door without knocking as usual and as usual he gives you an annoyed look. To your surprise König sits at the opposite side of the desk, your guess is he’s being briefed on the next mission. His legs are wide as he leans back in his chair staring back at you silently.

“Great, you're both here.” You start.

“What do you want Rookie?” Ghost asks.

“We need to talk…” König stands, not wanting to hear whatever conversation you had to have with ghost.

“All of us.” he turns back to face you.

To be continued?…

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I'll Show You Just How Sad I Am

a raymond smith x reader quick little blurb, just 1k words

there's mentions of smut in this so read at your own risk <33 who knows, maybe raymond will make a more regular occurrence on my blog over the next few weeks

here's my masterlist in case you want to check out my other works

"Should be the door to your left, honey."

Your voice is sweet in his ear, a pleasant distraction from the run-down building Mickey had sent him off to. It's smelly and dirty and even though he knows he should most likely feel pity, he's still just as disgusted. He'd be with you in a heartbeat if he could, safe and clean in the comfort of your home.

"Mickey should've sent a cleaning lady", he grunts as he knocks at the door, your chuckle almost making up for the very truthful, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

"Mickey wanted you because you're the best", you recite - you've told him often enough by now that it really is reciting. "And because he trusts you to keep this clean."

Which is easier said than done.

Twenty minutes later, the whole thing's anything but clean.

Sure, he'd very much accomplished bringing Laura home - but he'd also left a dead teenager in a puddle of blood about two stories down from where he should've been sitting.

"Left, left!", you call into the mic. Even though you're far from panicking, you're still much too loud, your voice flowing from his earpiece and stinging his brain.

"I'm trying, darling", he grunts back, breathless and panting as he pushes on, one foot in front of the other on the pavement of some random South London streets.

"I know, I know", you sigh. He isn't sure whether he's actually hearing you chew on your lip or imagining it, but he doesn't really have the capacity to think too much about it at the moment. "He's right in front of you. You've got him, Ray."

Yeah... The only problem is that what you must be seeing as a moving, flashing dot on a digital map, he's seeing as a bunch of teenagers trying to look intimidating. Probably feeling intimidating too. God, this is exactly why he didn't want the job. He isn't made for the fucking low-classed youth.

"You've seen enough?", that bastard of a boy spits at him. "Now I've got backup."

Raymond steadies his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath in.

"You couldn't back up a phone, you cunt", he rasps, his erratic heartbeat slowly starting to calm back down.

"Raymond", you scold. "That's a child."

"That's a bastard", he mutters, before he finally straightens and tries his best at a somewhat mannered bargain. He's really only here for the fucking phone. He needs those pictures, then he's gone. He doesn't want to leave more unnecessary corpses to take care of.

So he offers them money. Which is something that they should definitely take, just judging by how they look. Plus a visit to a very good psychiatrist. But they don't. It's the same fucking bastard who's taken the pictures in the first case and got him into this mess that refuses - and in such a really stupid way, too: "How 'bout you give us that bag and be gone anyway?" - god, even you let out a choked up laugh at that, your breath carrying through the mic and into Ray's earpiece.

He drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. What a fucking bunch of idiots. Goddamn it. He can feel his blood boil, hot and hotter.

"It's bait", you mutter, your voice low. "Calm down, love. You've got a machine gun. Use it."

Yeah, fucking hell, it's bait, he knows that. It doesn't change the way he's feeling. But your voice in his ear at least brings him back down to reality.

"Right", he grunts, then he swipes his coat to the side, closes his hand around the grip of the gun and steadies his fingertips against the trigger. He pulls it out in one swift motion, points it at the sky and shoots. For a good three seconds longer than necessary.

"Just like that", you breathe, your grin dripping down onto your voice and melting into his ear like honey. You've really got to stop that, he actually loses his focus for half a moment there and in his line of work, next time that means sure death.

The entire bunch of teenage boys flees - as expected - and in less than a minute, Raymond has the phone pressed into his palm.

"God, sometimes I really hate that I'm not there", you sigh, something in the background ruffling, probably as you shift into a more comfortable position on your chair. "Kinda wish I could've seen you."

"Run after a little cunt like that? You didn't miss anything, darling", he says, turning his head left and right before he strides back towards the car, his steps long and purposeful.

"Turn the corner here", you mutter, your voice taking on that specific tone that tells him there's a lazy grin licking at your lips. He can just imagine how you're looking (especially now that he has the time and freedom of mind for it) - one foot propped up on those bar stools that you'd bought for the kitchen, your equipment organised on the table top in front of you, his shirt hanging from your shoulders and pooling in your lap, your head tilted back and your eyes half-closed as you talk to him.

"I don't mean the little idiot", you go on, undeterred even as he narrowly avoids a trash can. Fuck, you really distract him too much. "I'm talking about you. God, you sounded so hot I wanted to jump at you. Actually scratch that, I still do."

He lets out a chuckle as he spots the car, his steps slowing. He should hurry up, he knows that. But he's got you in his ear, talking in that sweet voice of yours about just how much he affects you. He can't pass up on that.

"You're a little fuckin' minx, darling", he mutters with a grin, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check if there's any possibility he could be overheard. He doesn't necessarily feel like making your conversation public, even as you hum into the microphone.

"Yeah, but yours", you mumble. It sounds like you're almost proud of that. "Here's an idea, love: Get back home before I finish my shower and I'll show you just how sad I am that I couldn't watch you."

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (41)

Asgard

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 41- W/c 7.3k

Asgard

The sound of a whir from the coffee machine knocked you out of your tired and peaceful state, a displeased grumble leaving your lips as you curled up into a ball on the sofa, cradling a cup of coffee you made earlier in an attempt to wake you up, a huff leaving you as you sank further into the cushions behind you. Eventually, the gentle sound stopped, your fingers wrapping around your mug in irritation as you did not want to get up yet, you wished to climb back into bed and fall back asleep to finish off your unusual dream as it was far too early to be up during your holidays.

At your usual reluctance to enjoy the tranquillity of the morning, Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle softly behind you in the kitchen as she made her morning drink, shaking her head at your antics as she effortlessly manoeuvred around the kitchen, green eyes occasionally flickering towards your form on the sofa, admiring the gentle sun rays that peaked through the gaps in the curtain, illuminating the room in a gentle glow as she took in your body, curled up adorably with your eyes closed, clearly daydreaming about your shared bed again.

“Detka,” she hummed out gently, quietly walking over to you before gently moving to sit next to you, her body pressing into your side as you make a sound of acknowledgement, the loose strands of her hair that framed her face perfectly brushing against your cheek as she pressed a delicate kiss to your skin, your cheeks immediately heating up at the domestic action, your heart always beating wildly at the amount of affection she showed you. “Good morning,” she murmured teasingly, laughing softly as you shifted around to be settled in her arms, tired eyes trying to force themselves open, tempted to just stay shut and let sleep take over you once again.

“I hate mornings,” you grumble as you press your head against her shoulder, wanting to go back to bed with your loving girlfriend, a little annoyed at yourself for bringing this early morning upon yourself when you asked the older woman if you could take the twins to the theme park in the bath just over a week ago. The two of you eventually settled on a date and time later that evening, planning to spend a couple days at the park to hopefully explore all nine realms and enjoy the onsite hotel as well meeting all the entertainers and take part in all the activities the boys would love.

“Trust me, I know Detka,” she teases. “All I ever seem to do is drag you out of bed,” she mutters, pressing another kiss to the top of your head as you huff out a laugh, placing your drink down before wrapping your arms around her body and snuggling closer to her warmth despite the temperature outside.

“But the bed is so comfy,” you grumble, arguing your case for never wanting to leave your sheets as you had everything you could ever want there. Her cuddles and soft body were worth spending eternity there.

“The sofa is also comfortable,” she argues back, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leans her head against the top of yours. “Plus, if we were in bed right now I can guarantee we’d have two boys trying to break our door down,” she jokes as she could picture the boys waking up at their alarms, practically jumping out of bed and rushing to go for showers, wanting to go to the theme park as soon as possible.

As if on cue, the sound of rushed footsteps and giggles could be heard descending down the stairs, a muffled chuckle leaving you as you smile against her body, preparing yourself for the two bundles of energy that were about to invade your peaceful moment.

Moments later, the two boys with bed hair came running into the room, smiles engraved on their faces as they did not hesitate to jump on the furniture with you, a puff of air leaving you as Billy lands at your side and Tommy half on top of you, your expression inevitably morphing into joy at their elated moods.

“Be careful,” Wanda motherly scolds but the boys pay no attention as they're too busy bouncing with energy, Tommy wriggling his way in between you and Wanda and you can’t help but smile at the twins. Your fingers fix Billy's hair while Wanda presses a kiss to Tommy’s head, both of their smiles growing wider as they both excitedly cheer,

“We're going to Asgard today!” Tommy exclaims while throwing his arms up in celebration, his little mind running wild with exciting thoughts about all the rollercoasters and fun fair games to play. Billy lets out a just as elated cheer as you and Wanda both chuckle at them, a playful smile growing on your lips as you plan to tease them.

“We are,” you laugh out innocently before wrapping your arms around Tommy and rolling over briefly with him in your arms, a small squeal leaving him as you position him next to his brother who laughs at the embarrassing noise, your body now next to Wanda’s again, her front flush against your back as she also places her drink down, not wanting to spill any. “After I get my morning cuddle from your mom though,” you tease, Wanda shaking her head at your antics but still wrapping her arm around your body and pulling you impossibly closer for an embrace, Tommy and Billy making a displeased noise.

“That’s not fair,” Billy grumbles whilst moving with his brother, the two of them watching as you and Wanda can’t hide your amused smiles. “I want to cuddle Mom too,” he says, Tommy working with him as they try to climb over your body to steal their mother away from you, laughter spilling from their lips as you tickle them both to keep them away.

“She’s mine,” you dramatically say, shielding her from the two boys, determination creeping onto their faces as you squint playfully at them. “My girlfriend, my cuddles,” you mutter out, smiling as you feel Wanda’s body shake in laughter behind you, her warm body just so comfortable pressed up against you as she props her head on your body, her heart melting at the way her boys mouths part in shock, their bodies swiftly moving away from your poking fingers and over your body, swarming Wanda from the other side with triumphant expressions.

The older woman shifts her position to accommodate all of you, Billy melting into her embrace whilst her fingers go to Tommy’s hair, playing with his messy locks and attempting to fix it, her head shaking at all of your antics as you also snuggle further into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek which makes the boys groan, her softening green meeting yours with an enamoured look.

The gaze prolongs as you let your gaze admire every single delicate swirl of green, mesmerised by how expressive her eyes were as they overflowed with love and affection, the intimate look only being broken by the one of the boys moving to find a more comfortable position, your gaze drifting to the twins’ wide and bright grins.

“I’m sure there are enough cuddles for everyone,” she softly teases, kissing you all on the top of your heads lovingly, earning a chorus of laughter from the three of you. “In fact, if you all want cuddles so much, we could just spend all day in bed cuddling instead of going to Asgar-”

“No!” Both twins quickly rush out, moving partly off their mother, eyes wide and heads shaking, expressing their disagreement with Wanda’s words.

“We want to go to Asgard,” Tommy clarifies, the serious look in his eyes cracking Wanda’s composure, her heart fluttering once again in her chest.

“Ok Dorogoy, don’t worry, we’re going,” she whispers comfortingly, his smile returning as she continues, “But if we want to go soon, you two both need to go get into the showers,” she reminds them, the boys practically jumping off the sofa to go and do as their mother said, two little ‘goodbyes’ sounding around the room as they race each other to their own bathroom, the loser having to use the guest one.

You can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, head tilting to the side to press your lips to Wanda’s briefly, seemingly unable to wipe the smile off your face at the sound of the boys bickering over the showers and the feeling of her soft, addictive lips touching yours. However, it does drop slightly as she pulls away quicker than you would have wanted, your brows furrowing as she climbs of the sofa, looking over her shoulder at you mischievously as she starts to walk towards the stairs, leaning against the banister and chuckling at the way you were watching the sway of her hips.

“Come on Detka, don’t you want to shower with me?” She purrs out, walking up a couple steps whilst gazing at you teasingly, biting her lip seductively at you as you practically throw yourself off the furniture and stumble towards her body as she starts to rush up the stairs to your room, sliding her shirt over her head once the door was locked, her fist finding its way to your shirt and grasping at the material, pulling your body towards hers, lips claiming yours passionately as your hand blindly reaches out for her “We have to be quick,” she mumbles in between heated kisses, your shirt being carelessly discarded somewhere as you both swiftly strip, bodies soon under the warm spray as you bite gently on her lower lip before pulling back.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” you chuckle out, dropping to your knees before her, not wanting to waste any time.

***

A shameless smile toyed at the corner of your lips as you heard the boys complain about their mother being late for getting into the car, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to try and suppress the grin that wanted to take over your face, your head turning to the side to watch the older woman lock the house up, carrying her handbag over to the car as she meets your amused stare, her head shaking slightly.

“Mom,” Tommy whines, opening his window and poking his head out of it to look at his mother, “We’re going to be late,” he complains, his eyes conveying his worry of not getting to spend enough time in the theme park, Wanda letting out a huff as she manages to get her bag into the boot around all of your suitcases, yours and the twins already in as you were in charge of them two and their luggage as Wanda securely locked the house up.

“We’ll be fine Dorogoy,” Wanda says softly, checking a list off in her mind as to what she needed to do, her body soon entering the car at the driver’s seat, her hands pushing her auburn strands out of her face as you look back at the boys with a mischievous and cheeky grin.

“But Wanda,” you say dramatically, her sighing under her breath at the three of you teaming up on her. “We’re only going to have about six hours..” you check the time on the car, noting she was eight minutes late, “and twenty two minutes in the park now,” her head tilts at you, daring you to say anymore making you and the twins chuckle, her semi glare fading at the sound of genuine laughter filling the car.

“Behave or I’ll make you share a bed with one of the twins,” she mutters playfully, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as you smile into it, her pulling back and starting the engine, looking over her shoulder to reverse out of the driveway, your eyes raking over her angelic features, still amazed by her beauty.

“You love my cuddles too much, you wouldn’t dare,” your tone teasing as the boys groan at the previous display of affection, your gaze focussing on how the corner of her lips tug up into a gentle and tender smile, a hum leaving her in response.

“Is that so?” her voice conveys her amusement at your words as the boys peek around their hands to see if the ‘gross’ kiss had ended. “Dorogorie, who wants to share with Y/n tonight?” Wanda asks, her eyes drifting to the rear view mirror to look at the boys, smiling softly as they both grin with excitement as your face drops, a look of shock taking over your face.

“Woah, wait a minute-”

“I do!”

“Me!”

Laughter spills from Wanda’s lips at the difference in reactions, her head turning to yours with a soft, teasing smile, a groan leaving you as you sink further into the seat, your head shaking at her antics.

“You clearly don’t love my cuddles that much then,” you mutter, earning a soft, barely audible chuckle from her, a sign of her enjoyment as she moves her hand to rest on your thigh, squeezing comfortingly. Your hand reaches down to play with hers, fingers tracing over the smooth pads of her fingertips, dipping lower to her palm before dragging over to the back of her hand, caressing her knuckles repeatedly and occasionally over the ridge her vein created softly, satisfied with the small but intimate moment of physical touch.

“I love your cuddles more than anything Detka,” she whispers with an annoyingly soft voice, your faux annoyance crumbling away immediately at the loving tone, your smile threatening to take over your lips.

“Mhmm,” you hum in response, letting a soft, quiet atmosphere wrap around the two of you in the front as the boys in the back talk, excitement clearly bubbling inside them as they refuse to sit still and quietly, resulting in you being dragged into random questions occasionally.

“Y/n?” Tommy asks, after an entire minute of silence, a sigh of defeat leaving you as you fold the corner of the page you were reading of the book you brought, carefully closing it and giving the twins all of your attention as Wanda continued to drive, her green holding a glint of mirth at the boy’s actions.

“Yes Tommy?” You murmur out, sliding the object back into the backpack you brought before leaning back into the seat, ready to be interrogated about another random question.

“Is the moon actually made of cheese?” He asks, a genuine curiosity lacing his tone as he looks outside, as if thinking hard about the topic, Billy laughing next to him. “Miss Danvers said it was made of rocks but I don’t get it, why do people care about a floating rock? A floating block of cheese sounds more interesting,” he mumbles, further entertaining you as you tilt your head to look at Wanda, noticing the slight annoyance at the mention of Carol.

At the mention of the other woman, a mischievous glint appears in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you plan to torment the older woman next to you, Tommy still looking out of the window rather thoughtfully, picturing the moon made of cheese and trying to break a piece off, wondering what kind of cheese it would taste like.

“Well, Miss Danvers is an incredibly smart woman, I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about,” your tone emphasising your praise for their teacher, Billy agreeing with your statement as he loved to listen to the blonde, his attitude towards learning extremely different to his brother who’s mind naturally drifted off towards what the food at Asgard would be like, his little stomach craving cheese now.

You bite your lip to contain your laughter as you look over at Wanda, her jaw visibly clenching as you tease her, your smile breaking out as you hear her mutter something in Sokovian, the words clearly inappropriate.

“What was that Wanda?” Your tone playful as Wanda sends you a mini glare, her hand squeezing yours in warning as she focuses back on the road, her head occasionally turning to look at you, her eyes rolling at the smug expression on your face.

“I asked if you wanted to sleep on the floor tonight instead,” she mumbles, your soft giggle dissipating her mood instantly as she admired the way your smile stretched wider, the way your eyes gleamed with joy at annoying her. You simply flashed her a bright grin, your fingers caressing her hand softly in apology as you chuckled to yourself at how fun it was to rile her up, the two of you leaving the conversation and enjoying a moment's silence when Tommy spoke up again, thinking out loud by mistake.

“Would it taste like Cheddar?” He muttered quietly, genuinely confused over the situation, Wanda’s gaze softening as she looked at him in the rear mirror before tilting her head to meet your gaze, warmth and affection consuming her as you shared a look.

This was going to be a long car ride.

***

Arriving at the hotel Nidavellir, you gave the boys their backpacks, watching with a soft smile as they hurriedly took the item from you, running to catch up with their mother who was going to find out what room you were all in whilst you brought the suitcase in. Eventually, you managed to get the large case out of the boot, grabbing your own backpack for during the days where you’d be roaming the realms before shrugging Wanda’s handbag over your shoulder too, slowly but surely making your way over to the lobby where the three of them waited, room keys in hand.

The kind receptionist Eitri explained to you how to get to your room, wishing you all a nice stay as you entered the elevator, the small boys next to you practically buzzing with excitement, their eyes taking in the brightly decorated walls of the hotel, the space themed onsite hotel something Billy adored.

Twisting the key in the door, Wanda opened it and swiftly moved out of the way, knowing the twins were about to sprint through and admire the room, their little faces engraved with joy and enthusiasm.

A bunk bed with various stars and colourful planets painted along the side of the wooden frame was in the corner of the room, the walls surrounding you a deep blue whilst a large image of a neutron star peeked from behind the doubled bed that was closer to the entrance and the ensuite, the orange, red and yellow hues contrasting the hidden hints of purple and blue in the navy coloured walls. The room was beautiful and vibrant for the children, there was no denying that but it also had a different sense of beauty that you and Wanda admired as the twins bickered about who could have the top bunk, the two of them deciding on playing rock, paper, scissors to determine the winner.

You watched intrigued as Tommy won, swiftly making his way up the ladder and flopping against the mattress, leading you to decide to copy him and dramatically fall against the double bed you and Wanda were sharing, her raising her brow at you as she moved the cases somewhere out of the way before quickly peeking into the ensuite to see what it looked like.

“What do you think you’re doing?�� she murmurs, leaning against the wall and taking in the sight of you lifting your head with a large grin plastered on your face, her head shaking at you playfully as she watches the twins play with one another.

“Testing the bed,” you tease, looking at her with mirth in your eyes, enjoying the way she gazes at you lovingly.

“I don’t know if I still want to share with you,” she murmurs as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, a taunting smirk lifting the corner of her lips. “That looks like a good spot on the floor, don’t you think?” You simply pull her down against your body at her words, chuckling at her blatant tease whilst letting her head rest on your shoulder, her enchanting green flickering across the planet lights hanging from the ceiling, tinting the room in a colourful light.

You feel her relax against you, taking a moment to recover after driving for such a long time, your hand moving to glide comfortingly up and down her arms, fingertips delicately brushing across her skin soothingly as you take advantage of the peace, knowing there wouldn’t be many calm moments like this for the rest of the day.

Sooner than you would have liked, the boys ask to start their adventure around one of the realms, Wanda’s head tilting to look at her boys, asking them where they wanted to go first before reluctantly pushing her body up, leaving your welcoming embrace to start the exploration of one of the realms.

***

Entering Jotunheim, you were stunned by how beautiful and exciting the realm looked, the ice-like structures towering around you all as you walked down the busy path. The stone walkway was filled with adults trying to contain their exhilarated children, entertaining mascots in ice giant costumes and various props related to the ice kingdom, stalls with food and drink emitting a smell that had your taste buds watering, the sweet treats catching yours and the twins attention as you strolled past people, figuring out what to do first.

The feeling of a hand tugging on yours eagerly caused your head to snap down at Tommy, trying to follow his gaze to the ride he desperately wanted to try, your eyes landing on the sign next to the entrance warning about how this ride involved water, your smile tugging upwards as it would be nice to cool off in a little water for a bit, the sun beating down on you all.

“Can we go on the Ancient Winter’s Avalanche?” Tommy asked, his tone showing how hyper he was as he turned to you and his mother, Billy’s eyes widening in a thrilled manner at noticing the ride, his face showing he was just as eager to go on the ride too.

“Of course,” you say, excitement seeping into your voice as, if you were being honest, you were just as happy as the twins were to be here, smiling brightly at them before turning to Wanda, not noticing the hint of anxiety on her face as she looked at the ride, letting a slightly forced smile grow on her lips.

“I think I’ll let you three go on this one,” Wanda murmurs to you, concern and disappointment growing on your face as you wanted to do the first ride all together, still oblivious to the older woman’s fear of rollercoasters. “I don’t want to get wet,” she excuses, pointing to the sign you had read earlier, understanding her and offering her a small smile.

“You seemed to like getting wet earlier,” you tease whilst the twins check they are tall enough for the ride, Wanda smacking your arm lightly in warning, kissing your cheek whilst rolling her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? We can try a different ride first if you want?” your tone soft as you gaze into her green, her features softening at your kindness.

“Go have fun on the ride,” she mutters into a kiss, “I want to watch you three get soaked,” she chuckles out, having caught a glimpse of the ride when you were walking past, knowing you were about to get drenched and deciding to let you three figure that out.

“I knew you loved watching me get wet,” you joke once more before she pushes you softly, encouraging you to go and stand with the twins and get in the queue, not wanting it to build up.

The three of you waited rather impatiently for the queue to move, far too interested in just having fun going on the ride as the family in front of you climbed into the available seats, your eyes observing the shuttle you would be in as it slowly appeared in front of you.

It looked like a glacier that was shaped into a rectangle shape, the twins having to sit in front of you in the single seats, your body at the top of the seating arrangement, reminding you of the log rides you went on when you were younger, a certain realisation dawning upon you as the worker ensured the safety bar was secure. Wanda was right, you were about to get soaked.

Machines started to whir as your shuttle started to move, the three of you being surrounded by an ice cave as a small story played out, your eyes more focussed on the boys in front of you, the overwhelming amount of anticipation in their eyes as they waited for what was to happen next. Brightly coloured lights illuminated the what was once the darker cave, the mechanisms pushing the shuttle sounding a little louder as the three of you started climbing uphill, occasionally taking a sudden turn or feeling a bump, the unexpected movements making you smile at how the twins laughed, part of you unsure whether it was nerves or excitement. Your finger moved to poke Tommy in the back of his neck, earning a small scream from him and a chorus of laughter from you and Billy as the shuttle picked up speed, throwing you around a little more violently as it gradually made it’s ascent, the sight of the end of the tunnel you were in causing your own heart to beat that little bit faster, trying to prepare you for what was to come.

“Put your hands up if you’re not scared,” you instruct the twins, Tommy enthusiastically doing so whilst Billy’s attempt was more cautious, your eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that you were now exposed to as you teetered on the edge of the drop, the water around the shuttle running down into a pool at the bottom, ready for the three of you to crash through.

The ride stutters, only adding to the anticipation as you are eventually thrown forwards, speeding up significantly as you crashed through the water, waves of the cold liquid smashing down on you, screams leaving the three of you at how cold the water actually was, laughter escaping the three of you as a few more sprays coated you. Your hands pushed back your wet locks as you realised how truly wet you were, your shirt and shorts sticking to you uncomfortably for the moment, your mind noting that you’d dry off extremely quickly in the heat and sun, the cold sensation growing a little more pleasurable as you continued your bumpy journey back to the start of the ride.

The three of you laughed the whole way to the exit, Tommy’s hair a wild mess as he shook it, trying to get rid of as much water as possible, Billy copying and doing the same towards his brother, payback for spraying him with some. You took a more civilised approach of drying your hair by squeezing the water out of it, following the twins as Wanda stood there with an enormous grin in her face, amusement overflowing from the pools of green as she pointed her phone at you, taking a picture of your wet and bedraggled forms.

The twins strook a pose making you laugh, naturally smiling for the picture before you walked over to the older woman, a teasing and playful look in your eyes as you opened your arms, clearly trying to get a hug from her.

“Hi love,” you innocently say, Wanda’s hand moving to your chest and pushing you back, not letting you soak her as you chuckle, her green looking up and down your body and laughing softly at how drenched you were.

“No,” she mutters, knowing what you were trying to do, her gaze warning you to not try and soak her as you put your hands up in surrender, deciding instead to mess Tommy’s damp hair up once more to annoy him, the sun already having dried you off a bit from the walk back.

The four of you wandered around the ice realm for the most part of the day, your attention focussing on how the older woman came up with an excuse for any ride, a confused and disappointed expression on your face as she said no once more to a rollercoaster as you made your way into a new realm, wanting to explore another section of the theme park before retreating to the hotel for the night. You started to walk towards the Dragon’s Lair with the twins, now in Muspelheim, unable to stop yourself from looking back at Wanda, observing how she sat on a small wall near the entrance, waiting once again for the three of you to go and have fun on the ride. You wracked your brain for an answer, the only thing coming up being she had a fear of rollercoasters or heights, part of you doubting the idea though as you thought she would have told you if she did fear the rides instead of keeping it a secret.

The boys chatted amongst themselves as you pondered over Wanda, deciding to ask her about it after the ride as you started to make your way to the front of the queue, your eyes taking in the multiple dragon statues lining the hallway, the vibrant red and orange flickering lights at the mouths when you walked past and triggered the sensors.

The corner of your lips lifted at the amazed ‘wow’ that left Tommy’s lips at the sight of the shuttles, the three of you perfectly aligned with the front carriage where the dragon head was, the impressive scales and detail on the design visible as you climbed into your seats, the twins extremely excited to be at the front.

You listened to the dragon roar and growl that echoed around the room, Billy’s hand reaching to hold onto yours as he did for the previous rides that scared him a little, squeezing reassuringly to calm him down as the ride slowly started to move.

Darkness surrounded you as you slowly crawled through the small story part of the ride, witnessing various dragons hidden around the lair, more fire leaving their mouths as you descended for a bit, picking up speed as the growling got louder, the eyes of the dragon carriage you were in lighting up. An excited giggle left Tommy when you suddenly started to climb up hill, the sight of an opening visible whilst you accelerated up to the opening of the cave, the ride speeding up to help you reach the peak before stuttering at the top, a gust of air tickling the back of your necks whilst fog settled around you, the other ‘dragon’ getting closer.

At a sudden, deep roar, the ride shot forwards, sending you flying out of the tunnel and back outside, fire erupting out of the side of the exit as you whizzed past, twisting and turning and as you sped along the tracks. A scream left the people behind you when you tilted slightly near a dragon's mouth, just avoiding it as you escaped the lair and the fire creatures chasing you, a sudden drop making you scream yourself as it took you by surprise, Billy’s grip on your hand increasing.

Only once the ride slowly returned the start again did Billy let go of you, a smile on your face despite the small pain in your hand from how tightly he held it as you helped him get off, his face however showing nothing but enthusiasm despite his anxiety when on the ride, amusing you as he clearly loved going on them, he was just a little apprehensive. You loved the contrast to Tommy who had his hands in the air the entire ride, giggling at the noises others made as he cheered in delight, ecstatic with how fast you were going.

Eventually, you made your way back to Wanda, watching her with a tender look as she was talking to another couple, the baby in the father’s hands reaching out to play with her hair, trying to wrap their tiny little fingers around her auburn locks before giving up, deciding to try and steal her sunglasses instead as the older woman smiled, clearly enjoying herself playing with the baby.

Swiftly, you took your own phone out and took a picture of her, enamoured by the wide grin on her face as she pulled faces at the baby, eliciting giggle after giggle, their little fingers constantly reaching out for her. The twins approached first, excited by the cute baby and the many toys in its pram as their other young child, probably a few years younger than the twins, played with a stuffed dragon they had clearly gotten from the stall next to the ride you were just on.

“Who’s this little cutie?” you murmur softly as you smile at the baby who was amazed at so many people being near, a bewildered look on their face as Wanda kissed your cheek, wrapping her arm around your middle and leaning her body against yours whilst introducing you to Sue and Reed Richards and their two children, Franklin and Valeria. It entertained you to watch how the family interacted, the way the twins loved to ramble with Franklin over all the rides they’d been on and all the food they’d eaten, yours and Wanda’s attention on the blonde little girl in Richards arm’s as he gently rocked her. You only parted ways when Valeria started to cry, seeming to need changing prompting you to wish them all a good day before finding another ride to go on, your hand clasping Wanda’s as you followed the twins leading you to the Bifrost ride, your head turning to admire the older woman, deciding to ask her about the rides.

“Are you scared of rollercoasters?” you asked softly whilst the boys measured themselves against the height minimum, having to wait in a small queue. At your words, she offered you a sheepish smile, giving you your answer as your features soften, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand soothingly. “Why did you say yes to the theme park then? I feel bad just leaving you to wait for us,” you murmur, Wanda smiling at your care, wanting her to have fun on this trip too.

“You and the twins were so excited to come, I’d rather you all have fun and me be bored for a couple days then us not going at all,” she explains, offering you a reassuring expression to ease your guilt, a small peck also helping grow your smile as your cheeks tint pink at the love in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, confused as to why she was secretive with it.

“I was just embarrassed,” she mutters shyly, “Look how small some of the children are going on the rides,” her gaze encouraging you to look at a family with three young girls, the tiny bundles of joy showing nothing but eagerness to go on the rollercoaster. “I’m a fully grown woman and I can’t even get on one of them,” she grumbles, clearly annoyed at how scared she was, her fingers playing with yours as they always did when she was anxious.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you whisper comfortingly, “Everyone’s scared of something.” She meets your loving and tender gaze, relaxing a bit as she gazes at you, thankful for your support. You were always so supportive of her, it was sometimes odd to her, not used to such a caring partner after Vision. “Plus, people are scared of a lot of weird things,” you mumble playfully, earning a nose scrunch at your next words, “Like chickens.”

At the angelic laugh that escapes her, you can’t help but admire her humoured features, smiling to yourself as she shakes her head at you gently, thinking back to the memory of your first date when you confessed your fear of chickens to her, her heart fluttering in her chest at the way you look at her.

“That is pretty weird,” she teases, making you huff out a laugh.

“It’s justified,” you mumble, earning another genuine smile, “Just like your fear.” The sight of the twins running back, elated expressions on their faces as they were tall enough for the ride, makes you look back to Wanda, an idea entering your mind. “Would you be willing to try a ride?” You ask with no pressure behind your words, her expression dropping to hesitant and apprehensive, fingers fidgeting with yours more as she considers trying to face her fear. “The height minimum is lower on this ride then others, so it’s probably one of the tamer rides,” you explain, giving her the option of trying it out as you think it would be nice for you all to go on one together but if she didn’t want to, you were perfectly fine with that. “I’ll even let you squeeze my hand the whole ride,” you add light-heartedly, offering her a reassuring smile as you can see her considering it.

“Promise me it’s not a scary ride,” she whispers, tone small and clearly nervous.

“I promise,” you murmur back, kissing her softly before the twins finally get back to you, their grins practically reaching their ears when they find out their mother would be joining them on this ride, her hand not letting go of yours as you make your way to the queue.

You let Wanda absentmindedly toy with your hand, letting the pads of her fingertips trace along your knuckles and every little ridge of your hand whilst you listened to the boys ramble about all the rides they’d been on with you to their mother, unable to contain their excitement and unknowingly helping Wanda’s nerves as they kept her mind off the approaching ride.

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the queue and eventually climbed into the shuttle, the twins sitting in front of you and Wanda as she gripped onto your hand, your face remaining calm despite her intense grip.

“It’s going to be ok,” your tone soft and comforting to help her as the worker ensured the safety bar was secure, a deep breath leaving her as she tries to take in the colourful design of the ride. “I’m here,” you murmur, squeezing her hand back as best you could under her hold, her nervous green meeting yours to reassure herself.

Gradually, the ride started to move, her other hand gripping the bar in front of her as you smiled at her being brave and facing her fear, a small wave of pride bubbling inside you whilst the ride continued.

Everything was going well as you gently raced around the simple part of the track, a chuckle leaving you once you realised the colourful scenery and track reminded you of the Mario Kart racetrack rainbow road before you felt a small pain in your hand at the way Wanda clutched onto you, the rollercoaster suddenly starting an uphill climb that she wasn’t enjoying.

Suddenly, to both your surprises, the shuttle sped up before reaching the top, sending you  over the medium sized hill and ‘whizzing’ down the slope, a chant of ‘oh god’ leaving the older woman’s lips as her eyes widened, mouth parting in shock and terror at the way the ride twisted around corners and raced back around to the uphill climb as you looped the track. The twins seemed rather disappointed with the ride at how slow it actually was in comparison to others, your attention leaving their forms and drifting to your side where Wanda’s uneasy figure was, guilt washing through you as she didn’t like the experience.

After another loop around the ride, a significant amount of ‘oh gods’ later, you made it to the end of the rollercoaster, Wanda’s heart pounding against her ribcage as she used your hand to climb out of the shuttle she’d forever hate, her body collapsing into yours as your arms wrap around her middle, comforting her as best you could, her hands trembling as they gradually snake around you to make your warm and safe body remain close.

The twins looked in confusion at how sad Wanda looked in your arms, your eyes looking for something to distract them with as you consoled their mother, your hand slipping into your pocket to grab your card and giving it to them, pointing towards the photo area and store where the ride snapped pictures of you all on the Bifrost. They hurriedly took the card, the more mischievous twin planning on sneaking something else onto the bill whilst out of sight, your mind not bothered how much they spent as Wanda’s quiet voice reached your ears.

“You promised it wasn’t going to be scary,” she mutters against your shoulder before pulling back, looking into your eyes with a betrayed expression, your face softening as you cupped her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you coo, “I didn’t think you’d find it that scary,” your tone apologetic as you kiss her forehead, hoping to make her feel that little bit better by giving her the affection she always craved.

“Well it was,” she muttered, the small hint of attitude amusing to you despite the situation, your smile slowly crumbling away the wall of annoyance the older woman felt, the comforting words you whispered as you complimented her causing her mood to dissipate away, inevitably forgiving you like she always did.

Her arm remained securely wrapped around your middle as you waited for the twins to return, both of your expressions morphing into shock at the sight of them, a sigh leaving yours as you looked to the sky, praying that they hadn’t just bankrupt you whilst Wanda tried to muffle her laughter.

Tommy and Billy had to work together to carry the giant dragon stuffed toy towards you two, their smiles almost bigger than the vibrant plush they had bought, a bag on both of their arms with other items they had raided from the merchandise store, along with the photos from the ride, a low, amused chuckle leaving the older woman’s lips as they hobbled over to you, struggling to carry everything.

“That’s karma,” she laughed out to you, smiling brightly at the twins as they finally reached you, their faces barely able to contain the sheer joy bubbling inside them as they handed you the enormous red plush to show their mother what else they had gotten, your eyes squinting at the price tag before deciding not to look anymore when the figure exceeded one hundred pounds, another deep sigh escaping you.

Tommy sheepishly handed you back your card, giving you a peace offering of a large refillable cup that had the Asgard brand printed all along the side and the photos, your head shaking at his antics, deciding not to tell them off as the photo of you and Wanda on the ride was worth all the money they had spent, however much that was. The overwhelming amount of happiness that glistened in her eyes at your payback was also worth every penny, the smile unable to be wiped off your face even when you had to lug around the toy with you for the rest of the day, following the three of them to around the theme park until the sky blue sky slowly darkened into a deep blue, stars painting the night sky as you savoured every last minute of your time together in the magical place of Asgard.

---

This chapter murdered me harder than how 838 Wanda murdered Richard Reeds. 

Exciting news! I'm trying to start an etsy shop selling art and my plan is to make some 'The Babysitter' art as well as other marvel prints <3 Would anyone be interested in this or am I wasting my time? 😅

I hope you enjoyed this chapter full of fluff! 

Please leave any thoughts/comments/kudos <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Tumblr-  LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger3000

[sluts4matt]

Can you do a fan fiction with matt and the reader is a mixed (black and white) girl with shoulder length curly hair and brown eyes? Love your fan fics!

ANNIVERSARY

pairing: rough!dom matt x mixed!reader

summary: in which your two-year anniversary is a lot more of a big deal to matt then you thought it would be.

warnings: small age gap(literally a year), fluff, suggestive, SMUT, fingering, p in v (wrap it up boys and girls), praising, public, exhibitionism kink, degradation (if you squint), slight bondage, spanking and choking (if you squint)

word count: 2540

authors note: disclaimer the only thing to go off from the picture above is the dress, other than that, that's not how the character is depicted.

the sun peaked through the silk curtains hung from the windows. you groaned as the light hit your vision, your eyes squeezing back shut.

you grabbed your phone before disappearing underneath your black comforter with it. turning it on, you're hit with your phone brightness all the way up. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting to turn it down, clicking on your boyfriend, matt's contact name.

when you popped your head back out, a grin had overtaken your features. you planted your feet on the ground, shuttering at the coldness before standing up.

march 26th had been such a meaningful day for you. it was the day you moved to los angeles with your mom at sixteen to pursue your dream of becoming a model.

it was the day matt had popped the 'will you be my girlfriend question' a year later. now, it was your two-year anniversary. matt had always been a nonchalant guy, so him waking up before his usual time of 2 pm to do something with you made you feel special.

you made your way to your closet, deciding on a white and blue sundress, as it was nice, but wasn't too fancy. you had no clue what matt had planned.

you slipped into a pair of black boots, walking towards your bathroom to brush your teeth. when finished you took a seat at the small chair in front of your vanity, untying the silk bonnet that contained your curls.

you watched your brown curls cascade down your shoulders stopping right under them as you took it off your head, hanging it on the nob right next to the mirror.

you picked up a wide tooth picked comb, gently tugging it through your hair. you started at the bottom, working your way up to your roots as you dragged it through the curls, the comb getting stuck every now in then.

once you finished, you took a couple scrunchies. you parted your hair through the middle, parting it once more horizontally before beginning to assemble your space buns.

one break down and almost an hour later your hair was to your liking, your edges laying down as perfectly as you could get them too. you applied spf to your face, to protect it from the harsh rays of the sun before applying a thin layer of skin tint.

you blended it out, applying concealer to the underneath of your eyes, your chin, and your forehead to brighten those areas up. you blended that out, doing a small wing with your eyeliner.

you took a spully brush to brush your lash extensions out, making them appear fluffier. you added a bit of contour, blush, and highlighter before lining your lips and applying a coat of clear gloss over them.

you rubbed them together, pouting at the mirror.

"perfect." you whispered; a grin plastered on your face.

you stood, grabbing your black and silver cross body bag, your phone sliding right in. you grabbed a black leather jacket in case it got chilly, and adorned your wrist with a few gold bracelets.

your ears held gold hoops, and a gold industrial bar on the right side. your nose had a black septum ring in it. you smiled at your appearance, checking the time.

11:30.

you made your way out of your room, down the stairs immediately being greeted by your mom, a cup of green tea in her hand as she gazed out the sliding glass door, blowing smoke from her lips.

you watched her tuck her vuse back into her pocket, taking a sip of her tea. "you look nice, sweetie."

the grin on her lips was contagious, the corners of your own curling upwards as well. "thank you, matt's taking me somewhere," i grin, looking out the sliding door to see what she was looking at.

a few birds had been stood on the water fountain on your back porch, chirping in a sing-song fashion. your cat, fish, had been laid underneath the tree, soaking in the sun's rays.

"well have fun," she said, as the two of you heard a car pull up. "shit," you mutter, rushing into the garage. you come back with a blue bag in your hand, white and gold tissue paper sticking out the tops.

you slip the leather jacket on, sliding the bag onto your shoulder as you rushed out the front door, closing it behind you.

matt stood, leaning against the kia. his body was clad in blue jeans and a red top, his head adorned with a red and white snapback. his hands were stuffed in his pocket as he watched you approach the passenger side.

"afternoon," he smiled, opening his arms for a hug which you gladly accepted, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you slightly. the bag hitting his upper back, brought you both back to reality.

"i have a gift," you grinned, pulling back. you handed him the bag, his face softening.

he took the paper out, a smile overtaking his face. inside was a few different rings, as well as squirtle, pikachu, and charmander plushies.

you loved the way his eyes lit up, as if he were a kid in a candy store. "baby squirtle," he says since he already had a bigger one.

he took the plush out of the bag, giving it a tight squeeze before turning his attention to you.

"thank you so much, angel. i love you."

you grinned, watching his eyes flicker to your lips. he glanced over your shoulder, most likely checking to see if your mom was watching. when he pressed his lips to yours, you assumed she wasn't.

you grinned into the kiss, the taste of spearmint on his lips as they moved against your own. his hand had come up to caress the side of your face, his thumb rubbing circles into your cheek.

"i love you too." you say, pulling away with a grin before sliding into the car. he closed the door, making it to the other side of the car.

he pressed the button, the car revving before pulling off. "where are we going?" you ask, glancing out the window.

"you'll see," he smiles, glancing at you before back to the road. he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb.

you hum, the feeling sending chills down your spine as his thumb brushes against the hem of your dress. your heartbeat quickens, his hand slipping under the dress.

your eyes widen slightly, throughout the two years of your relationship anything sexual was done inside the bedroom, and inside the bedroom only. this was unlike him, yet it excited you.

he brushed against the lace material of your panties, his touch making you suck in a breath.

"matthew!" you say, glancing out the window. "you're being so bad right now."

"i know," he whispers, his fingers pushing the lace fabric aside.

he rubs against your slit, your breath hitching as a whine bubbles up in your throat. his touch makes you melt, his finger slowly circling your clit.

you feel your legs spread for him, and he grins. two of his fingers push inside of you, a gasp falling from your lips. your head lols back against the headrest, your eyes shutting.

you buck into his fingers, your hands gripping the side of your seat. "fuck," you whine, your voice shaking. "so cute, coming undone in the car all because of my fingers."

his words only made you wetter, your eyes opening and rolling to the back of your head. "matt, fuck."

you whimper, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. "god, so close," you breathe out, moaning.

"are you going to cum, angel? are you going to cum on my fingers, huh?"

you nod your head, your breathing heavy as you bucked into his fingers. he chuckles before pulling his fingers away, "not yet princess."

"what the fuck?" you mutter, opening your eyes. the knot that had formed was slowly unraveling, and you needed it gone. "don't be mean," you pout. "oh baby," he mocks, turning into a park, parking lot.

it was mostly empty, other than a few people here and there. you felt embarrassed, the feeling of wetness seeping from you. you crossed your legs, a frown on your face.

he laughed, pulling into a spot. "aw don't be like that," he smiles, unbuckling himself. he gets out, going to your side to open the door.

you're still pouting, glaring at him. he laughs, holding his hand out. "don't be like that angel."

you undo the seatbelt, standing up. you fix your dress, closing the car door. "that was so mean," "i'll make it up to you," he says, guiding you towards a group of trees.

behind it was a small blanket, sat out with a picnic basket and a few candles. you gasped, a smile taking over your features.

"happy anniversary." he whispered, when you turn to face him. he's holding up a small heart shaped box, and you squeal.

you take it, opening it to reveal a silver promise ring, with diamonds decorating the band. "you can't be serious," you said, your eyes welling up.

"this must have cost you a fortune," you say, looking at him as you blink back tears. "you're worth every. single. penny," he mutters, kissing you in between words.

you kissed him back, your hands sliding to his neck. his hands slide to the underside of your thighs, picking you up.

your legs wrap around his waist, his hand pushing against the tree for support. his tongue swiped over the bottom of your lip, and you granted him entrance.

he kissed you slowly, taking his time to explore your mouth. though he already knew every inch and crevice of it, you were severely glad the trees had hidden you away.

his hand moved from under your thigh to the zip of your dress. he pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

"can i take this off, baby?" he asks, and you nod. he sets you down, pulling the zipper of the dress down. he watches the fabric fall down your body, polling at your feet.

his eyes danced over your skin, as if he was taking a mental picture. "you're so beautiful," he muttered, trailing his hands down the caramel skin.

he kissed you again, the passion between the two of you growing as he guided you to lay down on the blanket. he climbed on top of you, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

your hands slid to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up. he pulled away, allowing the article of clothing to come off.

his hand pushed between your thighs, your legs opening for him. you giggled as you felt his lips attach to your neck, sucking marks, that your mom would tease you about later, into the skin.

you moan, arching your back. "so needy, aren't you?"

you nod, your hands sliding to the buckle of his pants. he chuckled, taking the belt off. the way his eyes looked at your brown ones told you he had an idea bubbling in his head, "do it," you mumble.

he grinned, flipping you onto your stomach. your face flushed and you were glad he couldn't see it. he took the belt, and the strap that was on it, looping it through the holes.

you felt him wrap it around your wrists, leaving enough leigh way for him to be able to tug. once the belt was tied, he slipped his boxers off, throwing them to the side.

he tugged on the belt, a moan falling from your lips. "fuck, please," "please, what?" he asks, his voice smooth and velvety. "please fuck me, matthew."

"how can i say no when you ask so nicely," he mutters, slipping the lace panties you had on down your legs.

he pushes into you, and you let out a choked moan. your eyes roll to the back of your head, his thrusts are slow but hard.

his hand is gripped around the leigh way of the belt, the other resting on your hips as he pounded into you. "oh my god," you breathed, the knot forming in your stomach once more.

"please, right there," you whined, feeling him hit the spot that made you see stars. "yeah? right there angel," you squeaked out in response, pushing yourself against him.

"you like the way my cock feels inside of you?" you nod, not being able to formulate a proper answer.

"use your words," he spanks you, and the sound resonates through the woods. your body jolts at the unexpected contact, a whine leaving your lips.

"yes, fuck yes!"

"good girl," he praised, and it made the knot in your stomach grow tighter. "cum for me, angel. show me how much my little slut loves getting fucked where anyone could see her."

"oh fuck, matt, i'm gonna-" you cry, the knot finally breaking. white hot pleasure takes over your body, and your vision blurs.

your mouth falls agape, a silent scream ripping through you.

"such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a champ," he mutters, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. his praises were enough to send you over the edge again, your vision blurring even more.

the tears had stained your face, and your chest heaved as you came down from the high. his thrusts became sloppier, the knot in his stomach tightening.

"angel, fuck, where should i-,"

"inside," you mutter, pushing back against him. his movements are a bit harder, his tip rubbing up against your g-spot each and every time.

"right there," you whine, and he continues the movements. your hands squeeze together, in attempt to find something to hold onto without being able to move your arms.

you feel the belt loosen around your wrist before it's falling to the side and matt's pulling out. a whine escapes your throat at the sudden emptiness before he's flipping you over and ramming back into you.

"wanna see those pretty brown eyes when i cum baby," he says, his hands wrapping around your throat. the feeling makes your back arch, his grip not tight enough to cut air off.

he moves in and out of you, his thrusts hard and fast.

"please cum, i can't-" "you can take it, just a bit longer," he leans down, biting into your shoulder. his teeth are sharp, the pain sending another shockwave of pleasure throughout your body.

"oh, fuck, baby."

your orgasm takes over again, and his hand clamps around your mouth, muffling the loud moan like screams that are emitted from you. his thrusts become sloppy, and soon enough his cum is painting your walls.

he rides out his high, pulling out once the both of you have calmed down. his lips connect with yours, his tongue moving against your own.

he pulls away, pressing kisses down your neck. "you shouldn't have gotten me anything," he mumbles, "i already have the best gift i could ask for right next to me."

a grin overtook your features, a giggle falling from your lips. "i love you, baby. happy anniversary."

"i love you more."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chris @l5ka @strombolilovr

[the-thing-withfeathers]

high up | cowgirl!madison beer

fluff, & smut.

a/n: hello again my loves 🥰 i’ve missed you all. i’m sorry for being gone so long but i’m back and better than ever. hopefully this suffices as an apology for leaving you all for a bit.

‼️smut warnings: semi-public sex, strap on usage, hair pulling, rough sex, slight degradation & humiliation.

𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗

a whole year had passed since you set foot on the farm. since you and madison met and started your whirlwind romance. a whole year and you were the happiest you’d ever been.

while you celebrated the exact one year marker with your grandparents, feasting over your grandmother’s chili, madison had suggested you two spend your one year together back in the city.

initially, you were reluctant to go. all your favorite spots were in the country. everywhere you and mads had spent making memories rested in the peace of the farm.

but she was persistent, and you knew your girlfriend wouldn’t relent. she argued that you spent a whole year learning the ins and outs of her biome. it was time for her to learn more about your roots too.

so the two of you found yourselves in madison’s truck, pulling into the parking of your condominium. you two had done the trip yourselves despite your parents offering, but you wanted the insurance of madison’s truck around in case she needed to get back.

your parents had been out working when the two of you arrived. you unlocked the front door to your penthouse apartment, welcoming madison into your home.

as madison stepped in, she marvelled at the space the penthouse offered. she knew your family had money, but now she was seeing it.

she was greeted with marble floors leading into carpeted ones depending on where you went and a massive living room with tall windows that looked like they could go on for miles.

you went to put your stuff in your room but she was left stunned. you poked your head back out to check on her and smiled at the sight of her mouth agape.

“like what you see?” you teased her, bringing her out of her daze.

“i’ve never been this high off the ground before. we’re practically in the clouds!” she exclaimed, taking her hat off.

you stepped closer to her and took her hat from her, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards your room, walking backwards. you held a mischievous smirk on your face, one she knew too well.

when you opened the door to your room, you giggled at her face. your room had a wide rectangular window that covered the entire wall, overlooking the city below.

your room was… so you, madison thought. it was littered with small trinkets that she found adorable. the wallpaper was your favorite color, she started to grow fonder of it when she learned how much you loved it.

she stepped closer to your vanity mirror, admiring the photos that were attached to it. photos of you and your friends, photos of you and your parents. even a few baby pictures. she was deep in thought again, but you were quick to make sure she didn’t get too absorbed by her own mind.

“hey.” you said, practically barking a little at her. she quickly spun around, catching the tail end of you dropping your dress for it to pool at your feet.

you opted for comfort on the drive, which meant wearing this dress that drove madison crazy. it was loose on you but still showed your figure off perfectly. but she enjoyed it off just as much.

“did you wanna get a closer look at this window?” you side eyed the window while madison reached for her bag.

“hell yeah i do.” she whipped out the strap-on like she had x-ray vision and knew exactly where it was.

she threw the strap-on onto the bed for the meantime, walking closer to you and capturing your lips in a kiss with many words. she missed you while on that drive, having to focus on the drive.

you were the object of her affection, she could never go for very long without trying to show her love for you.

she pulled you closer by your waist, stepping forward and backing you up until your ass and back were against the cold glass of the window. you squealed a little, the chill sending goosebumps across your skin. she swallowed every noise you made.

you unbuttoned madison’s shirt, pushing it off and yanking it until it untucked from her jeans. you made quick work of her belt, pulling it off in one swift motion and getting her jeans off. she pulled away to put the strap on around her hips.

you watched her with your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving her body. no matter how many times you’d seen her naked, you found her absolutely flawless.

she got close to you again, her chest pressing against yours as she kissed you. you felt her fingers slip between your drenched folds, a smile plastered across her face.

“so wet already baby, we just got here!” she snickered and dropped to her knees, lifting one of your legs to rest on her shoulder. she buried her tongue between your folds, your breath hitching as an immediate reaction.

despite being out of her comfort zone, madison felt good with you. being so high up in the clouds with the bustling city beneath you both, it worried her a little bit. but her heart beat for you, and in turn you promised to make yourself a safe place for her with your legs wrapped around her head.

“shit!” your body jolted as her lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and flicking with her tongue. she slipped a finger into you as your head fell back against the glass.

she knew how to work you perfectly, being alone on the farm gave you two a lot of privacy to get to know each other on an intimate level. a hand of hers ran up your body, squeezing one of your tits, the mix of stimulation caused your head to spin.

you’d missed her like this, it wasn’t going to take long until…

“mads… mads…” you tapped the top of her head. “i don’t wanna cum yet.” you warned, not wanting to get too tired yet. you were both exhausted from the drive but refused to hold yourselves back from intimacy.

“okay, princess. want me to fuck you then?” she asked, her southern drawl felt more prominent when she was out of her natural habitat.

“please…” you begged. she nodded and quickly spun you, your hands pressing against the glass window. she pushed you forward, your tits and face against the glass now too.

“c’mon, baby. be good for me. show them how good i fuck you.” she said, slowly inserting the 8-inch silicone dick into you. you whined at the intrusion, trying to find something to grasp onto. your efforts were futile as all there was in your reach was the window pane.

madison started slow, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. in truth, this was turning you on so much that you wouldn’t have cared. looking down at the city below, knowing madison would have no problem fucking you on the sidewalk if you asked.

she wanted them to know that she would fuck you better than anyone could. she wanted you to know that your pussy was eternally hers and hers only.

“you’re being so good for me.” she grunted in your ear, pressing her chest against your back as her fist circled in your hair, tugging softly. “want everyone to know how good i make you feel. i make you feel good, don’t i?”

“yeah! yeah… mads, right there! fuck! don’t fucking stop!” you cried out, gasping for air. her sneaky fingers made their way to your cunt again, rubbing quick circles around your clit.

your eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure getting to you. madison was now thrusting harder into you, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars.

“don’t you wanna cum for me, darlin’? wanna see you cum on my cock.” she whispered into your ear, peppering kisses on your back.

madison’s verbal encouragement was enough to push you over the edge, slick juices coating her strap as you reached your orgasm.

“ah! fuck!” you called out as you came on her cock and fingers, you heaved as your body relaxed.

madison wasn’t done yet though.

she spun you back around and pushed you to your knees, pushing the tip of the strap against your lips. you eagerly took it in your mouth, sucking your cum off as madison watched you.

you caught as her stomach flexed, knowing the friction of the strap against her own wetness would be enough to finish her off too. you bobbed your head at a rapid pace to assist her in reaching her own orgasm.

“yeah, baby. i love the way you take me in your mouth.” she leaned forward. her hand pressed up against the glass as she towered over you, tryung to keep herself stable. “keep going, princess.”

her breathing got shaky as she commanded you, your hands got thrown into the mix to help jerk her off, rubbing at the places your throat couldn’t reach.

“that’s it, baby. doin’ so fuckin— ah!” she groaned softly, reaching her peak. her legs shaking a little while she released all over the strap on.

she paused for a second, you backed off and helped her take it off, letting the dildo drop to the floor. you stood and grabbed her hand again, walking her to the bed.

you gently pushed her down onto the mattress and she moaned at the touch.

“holy shit, this bed is so comfy.” she adjusts her position so you can take your place on her chest. you put your head on her and kissed her gently.

“you’re comfy.”

𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗

a/n: heyyy… i know this was a short one but i fully intend for a part 2 to this madison in the city era. it’ll be a bit longer cause there will be a proper storyline but i wanted to post something to let you all know i was still around. sooo much love. i adore you all.

[soapyghostie]

teen charles lee ray x reader headcannons please <3

Decided to get another request out (that I could think of ideas for) since I have nothing to do. Yeah, I got extremely sick for the first time in forever. I’ll try to write another one later, but for now enjoy.

Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray

• Charles’s fiercely protective of you. He’ll sit and wait for you to finish any after school extracurricular activities you have to walk you home. He just can’t risk something bad happening to you especially when it starts to get dark. He’d lose his goddamn mind if something happened to you because you're all he’s got.

• Despite his reputation for being the troublemaker who ‘forgets’ to do his homework and refuses to go to class, he’s surprisingly loving and affectionate towards you. He always remembers important dates like your birthday and anniversaries, and he’s not afraid to shower you with gifts that are quite questionable.

• You two bond over a shared love of horror movies, spending weekends binge-watching classics while Charles playfully critiques the kills and unrealistic aspects of the film. He’ll even comment from time to time about how he can plan and kill much more efficiently than the slashers represented on the TV. However, he always claims it’s a joke, but is it?

• Once he’s gained your trust (which takes a long time since he’s very reserved), he’s very vulnerable with you. He’ll open up about his troubled childhood and all his insecurities.

• He’s fiercely loyal to you and defends you from anyone who dares to speak ill of you. They’ll probably end up being on the news the next day with blurred out pictures of them due to the serious disembodiment of their body.

• He loves teasing you and making jokes. That's his way of flirting. When you first get to know each other, it may come across as him making fun of you, but that’s not the case. However, overtime, you get used to it and even throw out a little teasing and a few jokes of your own. You’ll have his heart racing and, for once, leave him speechless. He’s just so in love with you.

• Charles loves adventure. He loves to take the kids from his orphanage to go play out in the woods. However, if you want to join him on an adventure yourself, he’d be delighted. Y’all would go out and explore abandoned places, walk around the woods, or do anything that’s fun in the sun.

• He’s also surprisingly domestic. If you’re into baking or cooking, he’ll come help you. For warning, he may end up burning something and requiring you to start from scratch. Additionally, he also likes to curl up on the couch with you and read a good book.

• Despite his nasty reputation, you bring out a gentler, more empathetic side of him, reminding him of the humanity he sometimes struggles to reconnect with, grounding him in a way no one else can.

[kairiscorner]

what if miguel and y/n switched bodies for a day bc of sum villain that put a spell on them or smth imagine how weirded out the hq would be to see miguel smiling and all cheerful just not being his usual self 💀💀 and y/n being grumpy and petty

HFIREOGHRJTNVEIFBBREUFI BOO, I ... you have awoken my younger self's love for freaky friday (yeah i liked that movie as a kid BWAHHAHAHAHAH) anyway, I LOVE THAT

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

being in your shoes. — miguel o'hara x reader

"wow... i'm a fucking statue come to life." said miguel's awestruck voice with a chuckle following his statement of disbelief. he admired his palms, then his knuckles and the backs of his hands and arms—every vein and every curve, groove, and bump of his muscular arms were just a sight to behold; and the way his fists looked when clenched, and the way his fingers unfolded like the blooming petals of a flower... it was too much for your heart to handle, which, in this case, was technically his heart—anatomically speaking. as he admired the beauty of, well, himself–you went up to him with widened eyes, which quickly morphed into a scowl. "this is... humiliating." your own voice muttered in a low voice, almost as a growl, but miguel chuckled and ruffled your hair. "ooh," the big man let out a soft sound of curiosity at the discovery that he was practically twice your size.

he pressed his elbow down onto your head, making you–rather, miguel–grumble at this act of degradation and disrespect upon shorter people. "wow, y'know, i wouldn't blame you for doing this to me if we ever got back to normal. hell, i don't even want to go back to normal! have you seen this body?" you asked him aloud with a chuckle, his own chuckle that was hardly ever heard, reverberating out into the atmosphere and making the you inside of his body swoon. "stop laughing, it's not funny, this is a cause for concern." he said with your voice as he folded your arms over your chest and glared at you, instinctively pouting despite his lips not appearing as pouty on purpose anymore.

"oh, shit, you do pout?" you asked him with a chuckle that made you giggle internally. miguel didn't appreciate how you abused his laugh so much that he grumbled and turned on his heel–in this scenario, it was your heel–and stormed out of his office as you remained there; admiring his wonderful body and flexing, asking lyla to take pictures of this rare moment when the photo shots of miguel are candid but also taken with such flare that you'd think he was crazy for agreeing to this–the miguel o'hara everyone knew was... nothing like this.

as you walked down the halls in a pink compression shirt and yoga volleyball shorts, as opposed to the usual spider suit miguel donned on every day–you smiled at everyone you met, even if they didn't greet you first–stunning and shocking everyone out of their minds. wide-eyed lenses and hung open mouths greeted you as you greeted them with a warm smile that nobody had ever witnessed before. it was like an silver lining had unexpectedly shown through as the eternal, dark and thunderous clouds tore the sky asunder and welcomed the first rays of sunshine that the spider society had sworn they saw before... on you. but that sunshine was replaced by a gray rainy day hovering over your head and furrowed eyebrows that didn't complement your soft, adorable, amicable face.

whenever anyone greeted you, with miguel in your body, he'd practically growl at them to a loud silence–he'd nod without even looking anybody's way, confusing everyone into thinking you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or something really bad had happened to you. as everyone went over to you, patting your shoulder, asking you if you're okay–he's scream in your higher pitched voice that you were just peachy.

everyone was astonished at how boldly angry and furious you were being, and at how boldly sweet and darling miguel was being today–everyone kept referencing that a freaky friday situation must've happened to you two, with only miguel in your body explaining that was exactly the situation, but they all laughed it off as a joke, since it came out of your mouth. "yeah, pequeña–oh, fuck, that sounds sexy–yeah, uh, chiquita–you're acting out of your mind right now, darl." "darl?!" your voice snarled in an angry, squeaky voice, making miguel chuckle and ruffle your hair again. "so sweet for me, chiquita." you said in miguel's voice, teasing him in your body as he grumbled.

oh, this was not gonna be fun for him, at all... but it was gonna be way, way too much fun for you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXX. “gut feeling”

parts: previous / next

plot: in an untoward evening, Bruce gets protective.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, violence, drugging, aggression, description of injury, angst, nausea/vomit, basically Gotham being Gotham

words: 6.7k

a/n: oooowieeee Bruce is really starting to show his more flustered side 🤭

PHOTOS: EMT Says Bruce Wayne “Lucky to be Alive" After Harrowing Crash on Tower Grounds

You'd been walking the sidewalk just before Rai's when you got the news alert. Even with his warning, one that left you for a few seconds when first staring at the phone, it was like being pummeled by a brick. Tethered to your screen, flipping through the photos TMZ posted like they were scripture. After a few heavy exhales, you gathered yourself enough to walk inside. The familiar 'Welcome in!' before a double-take. "Y/N? What are you doing here? You said you left?"

In all honesty you'd forgotten about your last conversation, the last moments before tragedy, and hadn't prepared for what you'd say to people outside of what you were to tell Mar. You did your best to laugh it off, but he wasn't taking it. He walked around the register and stood in front of you, right by the Oreos. "Always been able to read you, friend. Tell me, what's on your mind?"

Ding! The door opened to a cluster of women and Rai gave you a playful finger wag. "Foiled this time."

You joined half of the pack as they perused the drink aisle, then the other that clustered by the deli. He was almost out of tabbouleh, and the second best thing in your opinion—baklava—was being thirsted after by the two people in front. You decided to get some pita and hummus to go.

Rai didn't have time to talk to you with the line of people behind you, and for a brief moment you thought about staying—but your bed was calling your name, so you kept it simple. "I decided to stay for a few more weeks, at the very least. I'll be back soon for more tabbouleh." You winked at him, smiled, and found yourself right back where you had rotted the past 36 hours.

Rai sent you a text about fifteen minutes later. Heard you're a big journalist now girl! How does it feel to be published?

The message stopped you in your tracks; it was the first time someone had mentioned the interview without also mentioning Bruce Wayne. It brought tears to your eyes. He was the first person truly interested in your experience with it, about how it was just a project, not the person, that was the cool part.

I'm staying a bit longer for the election. Especially with how much traction my interview got, I think I carved out some legitimacy for myself to maybe make a difference reporting on the mayoral campaign.

He must've gotten swamped because your next text from him wasn't until an hour later. Whatever keeps you near Gotham and tabbouleh makes me happy. Bouleh on me next visit.

It was a running joke how often you ordered it; it was almost a hyperfixation, the flavor of it orienting you to time and place whenever things got harried. You learned a few months after being here that you needed some routine and, well. That was yours. The glow of your iPad screen was also an ever-present friend:

SEARCH: Marian Grange

Google showed that Grange was the former district attorney, a big-time lawyer taking on some very high profile cases in her time. A handful of years ago she had made her way to Gotham—notably, with just enough years of residency to run for Mayor this calendar year. Since coming to the city, she hadn't taken on any more cases, submitting wholly to the pursuit of... socializing? She was often pictured with the elite, holding hands with a beaming smile, endlessly pictured throughout her public-facing Instagram going to various fundraisers and luncheons. Per her campaign website, she wanted to stop the 'targeting' of the city's rich. Out of the many filler words on her 'issues' page, that was the only information you could glean.

SEARCH: Sebastian Hady

Hady's 'issues' page was a bit more complex: in addition to his position of taxing the churches, he wanted to put out an immediate hit on the batman. He'd attempted to run for mayor in the past two elections, falling short of winning enough votes to make the final matchup, and it was clear why: his politics were inconsistent. Tax the churches, but don't tax the wealthy; increase taxes on the poor, so they could 'bootstrap' their way out of their 'unfortunate predicament'. As out of touch as Grange was, Hady made your stomach flip. He'd been a political science major, with no real experience due to being denied access to Gotham University's Public Administration graduate program. Outside of running incessant campaign ads on late-night television and blaring his oversaturated frame across the city streets, he'd mostly laid low.

SEARCH: Lincoln March

BRRT BRRT. BRRT BRRT. "Mar?"

"Have you seen the news? I didn't have any reception in the lounge."

Every time she went to the Iceberg Lounge you wanted to hold her by her collar and give her a desperate talking-to. You gripped the phone tighter. "It's dangerous, you know the type of shady shit that's gone down there the past few years?"

"So you haven't seen it." She slurped away on a drink. “Sour as hell.”

Ding! You pulled your phone away from your ear to see the TMZ article. Your gut cinched.

"It's all anyone's talking about. People are getting into massive arguments on Scypher about it, it's fucking crazy."

"Arguments?" You bit the inside of your cheek.

She scoffed on the other line. "You're joking, right? Some people are saying he was DOA and had to be revived!"

A lurching clump of bile hurtled into your mouth, forcing you to double over and squeeze your mouth shut. Everything about that sentence haunted you, from the almost incredulous way she delivered it to Gotham's colloquial use of shorthand when describing being killed. He might've been fucking dead? Fuck, fuck...

"Hello? Y/N? Hello?" She groaned. "You're acting weird. Haven't even told me why you're still in the city."

"Don't you think it's a heavy fucking thing to talk about like that? You can't throw around someone being, someone being fucking, dead!" You were more shrill than you meant to be, but you didn't exactly have the resources to control your tone while you clutched your stomach and held your breath, not wanting to taste the vomit you'd just swallowed.

"Shiiit, I thought you didn't like him." If she turns this into a conversation about dating...

"I already saw it earlier."

"Think it'll interfere with your interview?" The sound of background whistling and whooping created an unsettling soundscape.

"I really don't care if it does."

"Pretty rude of the guy, in my opinion. Stealing your thunder like that?"

She's drunk. She doesn't know any better. Hell, might even be wasted. Still, your hand shook with anger to the point you had to set the phone on your comforter and scoot back from it. You pressed your palms flat against your mouth to keep from screaming. Screaming what, you didn't know. You were beginning to understand what it was like for Bruce to talk to you as you struggled to speak through gritted teeth. "That's really disrespectful, Mar."

"I'm jooookingg!" She cackled and you heard a clatter. "Oh shit hahaha, my phone. Hello? Still there?"

Don't want to be. "Yeah. Do you need me to call you an Uber?"

"Nahh, this guy's taking me home."

"What about Gianna?" She always hung around Gianna; you'd only met her once when Mar got picked up, and only for about five seconds, but after a brief look over her socials (and an impressive LinkedIn) you were inclined to think she was a good influence. Gianna had to be with her.

"I haven't asked her to be exclusive yet, you know that." Her words were beginning to slur.

"Who's the guy?"

"Some dude I met at the bar, he's super fuckin' rad."

"I'm sending an Uber to your location. Come up to my apartment, we'll spend the night together." Did she always leave with someone when she didn't go out with you? You pictured her being preyed upon, studied in the pulsing lights of the club. It made you sick.

"Okay bossy. No." She giggled to herself. "His apartment is like half a mile north, he's walking me." She hung up. Jesus. You threw on your sneakers, grabbed a taser, and raced outside, scanning your apartment fob to access the free-use bike garage. Iceberg Lounge was about a fifteen minute walk south.

It was terrifying biking on the streets of Gotham. Half the street lamps didn't work, and the drivers were all fiendish assholes who drove like they wanted to smear bodies on the pavement. You'd almost thought yourself lost until you spotted a glint of her neon pink cami.

"Hey!" You tried not to sound too menacing; maybe this was a rare good guy in Gotham, and he was gonna tuck her in safely to his spare bed and make sure she had a nice, non-laced drink of water at her bedside. No fucking way. "Hey,"

"Y/N?" Mar looked shocked at your arrival.

You dismounted your bike and grabbed her hand. When you did, the man grabbed your forearm. You ignored him and spoke directly to her. “Let’s head back to my place.”

”Interrupting our date.” The man laughed, but it was indignant. He still wasn’t loosening his grip on your arm. Getting a closer look at Mar, she was disheveled; her straps were sliding off her arm, exposing the top of her bra; her belt was halfway undone, yet her lipstick was pristine.

“We have a rule to not go home with people when we’re drunk.” You flashed him a smile, his green eyes dark and menacing. Why do I always notice the eyes?

“Sounds like BS to me.” He tried to laugh again when he said it, which only pissed you off. He probably thought he was one of the ‘good guys’ and didn’t understand why no one ever called him for a second date. You snaked your left arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. A quick once-over noted him wearing a thick leather jacket with white cuffs, and dark blue jeans with rips in the knees. His shoes were a nondescript pair of white Nikes. “You seem perfectly sober, interesting.” Mar was unsteady in your grasp, her weight leaning slightly too much into you, her knees wobbly. Did he fucking slip her something?

You swatted away his hand, which had a butterfly effect; he swiftly grabbed your ponytail, yanking on it so you were removed from between them. He grabbed her by the elbow as you stuttered back, tears springing into your eyes from the tension of having your hair yanked. He couldn’t quite walk as fast as he wanted to, her legs catching on every crack in the sidewalk. In this city that meant a long, treacherous walk anywhere, and an opportunity for you to strike.

You pulled out your taser and ran closer to him before slamming your finger on the trigger. A small catch of electricity came from the tip, then faltered. It’s not charged. Fuck. He turned toward the nearest apartment complex, and you lunged for his neck. He was tall, but not too tall, and there were a few steps he’d climbed to the doorway. You were able to wrap your palm around half of his neck, pulling him down hard on the concrete. Before he’d even smacked the ground you jumped down the stairs and slammed your foot into his balls, as hard as you could, your left foot skipping atop the concrete with the force as it struggled to balance. He cursed, spit flying out of his mouth as he clutched his groin. Mar was barely holding onto the siderails at this point, confirming she’d been slipped something. His legs thrashed wildly, his grunts filling the empty sidewalk. He caught your ankle and you fell back, smacking your head against the bottom stair. For a few seconds all you could do was breathe, the air knocked out of you and your vision blurry, stilted. He rose to his knees, and you scrambled back. By the grace of whatever God may or may not exist, you were able to get back on your feet before he did. The transition made you wildly dizzy, and before you knew it you fell to your knees again.

Mar was barfing off the edge of the railing, crying. You figured she had no idea what was going on, just knew that it was bad; the first and only time you’d been roofied was out with Mar one night. You’d tasted your drink and within a few minutes you were feeling woozy. Make it ten minutes later, and the room was a glowing haze of smoke and mirror—literally. You were seeing double everywhere you looked, locked in your own cage of whatever someone else did to you. Thankfully Mar had enough experience to notice the initial signs of being drugged (at least, in someone else) and had immediately called an Uber and notified the staff of the bar. She’d tended to you the rest of that night, and when you woke up her eyes were buggy and bloodshot. “I stayed up all night watching you. I didn’t want you to like, choke in your sleep or something.”

You attempted to raise your head, but it was pounding, whiting out your vision when you tried to support it with just your neck. You grabbed your phone and managed to open it to your phone app, but he smacked it away. You watched through bleary eyes as it soared into a bit of bark dust beneath some shrubs, landing face-down. All you saw was a gentle emanation of dark blue light. It called someone.

“HELP!” You shouted, hoping that whoever it was would hear you. Most of your contacts (you didn’t have too many) had access to your location information. You’d gotten scared after a few harrowing abduction stories in the Gazette and sent a mass text to the people in it with your info. Someone would call, and it would be fine. “CALL 911.”

Mar slumped to the ground and balanced her head against the railing, tears streaming down her cheeks. This part of town was deceptively barren, of course it was. The man grabbed you by the ankles and you screamed, jerking your legs until one broke free. “HELP!”

A part of you thought it would be okay—until you remembered Batman wasn’t on patrol tonight. Your heart sank as you watched him latch both hands onto your other ankle… and then he dropped you. He turned and walked halfway between the road and the apartment doors—why wasn’t anyone coming out to help?—and faced you, his mouth slobbery and in a slack grin. He shook out his body and flexed his fingers, taking a moment to hype himself up. You tried to sit up again, grinding your molars with the effort, but you nearly blacked out. The only thing that came to mind were the earthquake drills from elementary school, of hiding under your desk with your hands over your head to protect from falling debris. He was falling debris. Inevitable. You wrapped your hands around your aching head. Pressed your elbows together in front of your nose. Tucked your chin, barely, to protect your neck. He took off in a sprint for you, his sneakers connecting brutally with your thigh. You screamed, and he kicked it again. And again. And again. “See how you like it, fucking bitch.”

Mar screamed behind you; weak, but undeniable. “Stop it,” She stumbled toward you as his foot barreled into you with unbridled ferocity. She grabbed onto his arm and he shoved her off. She reached back out, her nails digging into his skin. He shouted and shoved her hard against the railing, turning his attention on her. She had enough bearings now to dodge a single hit, rolling out of the way before another landed square between her shoulders. You were busy incrementally lifting your head from the cement, centimeter by slow centimeter sitting upright. The man wiped the arm of his jacket against his mouth, muttering. “Bullshit fucking cunts.” He slammed his foot between her legs, and she yelped, rolling over onto her stomach. A wave of nausea stormed through you.

She was slowly rising, but he slammed his fists into her back and she buckled. Her face hit the pavement so hard you hoped her nose wasn’t broken. She started coughing, stringy spit dribbling off her lips. At this point he turned back to you with a sneer. “Guess I’m getting double tonight.”

Sick freak. The pain was edging out your fear, and resignation was teetering towards fruition. You only needed a few more minutes to get your bearings. Long enough to heat up a fucking hot pocket. He slapped you across the face, and you fell back to exactly where you were. Flat against the ground. Thundering head. Unable to sit up, arrested by searing pain.

The sound of skin slamming into skin disoriented you. Thudding, smacking sounds pierced the air, peppered with the man’s grunts and yelps. He sounded like a hit dog. What, the fuck? You shoved your palms against the ground to support your weight, but it wasn’t working. You physically grabbed your jaw and the back of your head and tilted it up, holding it there to watch the scene unfolding a few feet in front of you. A horrible hollow sound echoed just as the man was hurled against the opposite railing, his chest nearly touching his shin as his body bent around the metal. His opponent was adept at fighting; fully hooded with a black shirt wrapped around the bottom half of his face, a thick, baggy jacket bulking his frame, gauze wrapped around his knuckles. You couldn’t make out his full face, but the feeling you got told you all you needed. It wasn’t quite fear, not quite comfort, or peace, but an indisputable sensation of safety. You let your head fall back, too fast, as you sobbed cries of relief.

The mystery man kept trying to fight back, but not a single hit landed. You saw it all in the lower half of your vision. Saw the guy try, fight, and run, and the other stoop down to Mar and help her sit up. Once she was in a safe, neutral position he turned to you—Bruce’s eyes were framed with black, paint smearing down his cheekbones and into his brows. He took your arm and attempted to pull you up to the same position, but you squealed. “I hit my head,”

He sat back like he was calculating something for a moment before cupping his left hand at the base of your head. Holding you like an infant, he slowly tilted you upright. He held his hand just above your neck a few seconds longer. “Gonna let go.” Tentatively, he did, and you resisted your torso’s urge to flop back down.

A car pulled up right then, one you hadn’t seen before. It was flashy, but not a sportscar. He noticed your eyes follow it and lowered his voice. “It’s mine. I’ll take you both home.” He paused, gesturing with his head. “Do you know her?”

You tried to nod but you felt like your head would snap off your neck. “Yeah. My friend. I think, she was drugged.” The pulsing in your thigh was violent, and you worried you might have fractured something. He gave you a once-over, then looked back to her. “I’ll help her in first.”

Bruce tried to help her stand, but she shook her head. “Y/N,” she called out weakly, moving to her hands and knees to crawl toward you. She managed to make her way to your side, panting with the effort. “Who is, why,”

Shit. “Um, he’s my friend. I called him when, when the guy, shit,” Your head was in agony. You struggled to form coherent thoughts, let alone speech. How, clear is she? Recognize? Him? Disguise?

“I trust you.” Her voice no stronger than a whisper. She reached her arms out to him, and he walked over to help her up. He wrapped his arm around her back and to her armpit, hoisting her up and steadying her to the car. The side door opened as he walked up, and he helped her sidle in. He waited a few seconds while she adjusted, then grabbed the seatbelt. You heard him say something, but couldn’t… only if you want maybe? About the seatbelt?

You blinked and he was holding out his hands for you. The scarred, dirty hands that now had traces of fresh blood from reopened knuckle scabs soaking through the gauze. It made you faint thinking about him at the… Arkham. All at once you sat up, the motion sending you reeling. “Fuck!” Your hands trembled as pain ravaged your head, all the blood simultaneously leaving and filling it. “No, you shouldn’t, fuck,”

He squatted to your eye-level. His stare didn’t waver once. “You’re, recovering, I don’t, thanks,” Between every word was a gasp of pain.

His tone was firm, leaving no room for disagreement. “I’m glad you called. I’m taking you home.”

“Are you—”

“I’m fine.” He held out an expectant hand for you to take. You anticipated having to pull your own, but to your surprise he pulled you up with you barely feeling the ground whatsoever. He carried the bulk of your weight, snaking his arm on top of your shoulders instead of under, allowing your neck not to bobble as you both walked. The last time you’d been this close to him you hadn’t known his identity. You recalled his hold being so firm you couldn’t escape, how afraid that had made you until you’d realized it was him. You stopped trying to force your balance and let him guide you the last steps to the car; the door opened automatically again, and he helped you slip in beside Mar. She had her head against the back of the seat, eyes half shut.

“Need help?” He had a finger looped around the seatbelt. Your cheeks heated, and you stammered out a no. He shut the door, and you painstakingly buckled yourself. A part of you wondered what he’d do if you refused to buckle up, and how long he would sit there demanding you put it on before you finally gave in, having sufficiently annoyed him.

When Bruce climbed in, you felt like a child who forgot their lunch on the way to school. You asked him to retrieve your phone, explaining it was under some shrubs by the entryway. Not ten seconds later he was back in, wiping dirt off the screen before handing it back to you. He was so fucking fast.

Mar didn’t talk during the drive, and neither did Bruce, so neither did you. You kept one eye on her at all times, making sure she didn’t fall asleep before you could check if she had a concussion or not. You figured you did, and you were not looking forward to checking in the mirror later looking at the damage done to your left leg. Now I match Bruce. A bitter thought.

You’d had the wherewithal prior to leaving to bring your keychain with you, tucked nicely into your pocket. By some stretch he hadn’t kicked just a few inches higher, which would have probably left you with a gaping wound from the jagged ends of the keys fileting your hip. You held the fob out the window when he pulled up to the garage, and in another blink he was helping Mar out.

“Can you stand?” Mar was slumped into his shoulder as he supported her weight. “Might have to carry her.” She looked exhausted, with her eyes glazed over, her face sweaty. You watched her chest with diligence, and per usual he sensed you, reading you like he was superhuman. “Her respiration’s normal. You can check the rest of her when you get your bearings.”

You unbuckled and tried to stand, but even shifting halfway out the car scared you. The ground phased in and out of your vision, the depth completely lost. As much as it burned… You sighed. “Take her up first. I think I need help walking.”

You handed him your keychain and he went on his way. Only after he’d disappeared up the elevator did you question it. I let her go up alone with a man? In this state? You couldn’t berate yourself much though, because a strong swell of defensiveness ravaged you. It was like the you before and you now were dueling. Condemning your judgment and rationalizing it, back and forth.

There was truly just something about him. Maybe you were infantilizing him and the past week was clouding your judgment. Maybe he moonlighted as Batman to cover up his serial killer tendencies. Keep the cops trained on an alternate identity, a vigilante. But he made you feel safe. He always made you feel held. Even when your mind took over and convinced you he was wrong, convinced you you should be afraid, your body never internalized it. That gut feeling you got around other men; the other men at city hall, the other men at the club, some of the men in your undergrad classes, even some of the professors… your stomach never curdled like that around him.

You didn’t think about it any further.

Bruce jogged out the elevator and helped you out. You ignored how your stomach fluttered being pressed so close to him, fought the tears that begged at the edge of your eyes, and let yourself sink into his chest. At some point you closed your eyes and concentrated on the roughness of his jacket against your cheek, and the patter of his heartbeat. Warmth. Alive. Breathing. Secure.

You being so close to him made him keen to his breathing. His body felt tingly and dizzy. He held you tighter. Every exhale fluttered the hair in front of your face, wisping it across your eyelashes. Was his breathing too loud? Were you falling asleep? He rustled you slightly, just taking a step slightly too hard, not wanting you to—your lashes fluttered, having caught you right before slipping into dreamland. He needed to keep you awake, at least long enough to do a proper assessment. Long enough to make sure you weren’t going to die.

Walking through your doorframe was a beast he realized too late; too narrow to both walk through wide, after your left hip caught on the strike plate and you cried out. He hated how much it felt like someone squeezed his chest when he saw you in pain; if you or your friend had been any less injured, he would’ve taken more time on the perpetrator.

He sat you delicately on the couch, instructing you to sit upright as much as you were able. He unwrapped the cloth from over his mouth, shoving it into his jacket pocket. He asked if he could touch the back of your head, and you agreed. His fingers were as gentle as a cat’s whisker, delicately sifting through sweaty clumps of hair that, if it weren’t for even the air moving past it causing flinching pain, might’ve made you soft, weak. You startled when he removed his hand. “Can’t feel any bleeding, no cuts.” His voice was soft, his eyes scanning everywhere but yours. You were glad.

He asked the date, gave you a few words to recall back, and shined a light in your eyes. You recoiled like he’d slapped you when he pulled out his flashlight, the light causing physical pain. On the jump back, your leg brushed the pillow to your left, and he stared down at it. “May I?” You nodded and he pulled up your shorts; you were biting down on your tongue as his pinky grazed the bruise. “How bad is it?” It was at this point, when he didn’t immediately respond, that you realized he’d turned off the lights in your apartment and only left the lamp on in the corner. Thoughtful.

“Already bruising.” He grimaced, seeing the speckled outline of the shoe’s leather binding indented in harsh red streaks along your leg. His grimace made your face fall; he hardly grimaced like that when he had a fucking gaping wound in his leg. “What? Tell me.”

He shook his head. “A bad bruise, that’s all.” He grabbed your shin lightly and asked you to bend your leg. Then put weight on it. Twist left to right. Flex your hip. Everything worked normally. Still, his brow was twisted together, looking like he was gnawing on his cheek. You eyed him skeptically. “What?”

This was the second time he’d pulled someone off of you in less than six months. Your entire thigh would be lit dark scarlet in just a few days. He’d called Gordon the second he got into his car, and whispered an ID to his watch to ping over when he went to get your phone. He was sure they got him, but all he could think about was brutality; he didn’t like the things he was imagining, the drive to crack all the fingers off the man’s hand and shove them into his petrified, quivering mouth, and the equal drive to wrap you in a hug that never ended to make sure no one else harmed you.

You saw the movement of all these thoughts across his face, but the only source you could track them to was hesitation to tell you the extent of your injury. “Do I need to go to the hospital?”

He wanted to scour every inch of you to look for more lacerations, bruises, bleeds. For possibly the first time ever, he didn’t trust his estimation. You needed a professional, just in case. In case he missed something. In case you’d jostled your brain too much, in case the man had loosened a clot in your leg. He nodded. “I think you should.” He could take a back way there, walk you up to the doors and then put you in a wheelchair at the entrance. His mask would cover up enough, probably. He’d bring your friend with you. She could be checked out too.

You looked to his bloodless palms and fingertips that had just explored your scalp. Down to the splotches across your leg. “Why?” You felt like shit, yeah, but…?

“I might be wrong.”

”About what?”

”The extent of it.”

”What, like a brain bleed?”

”Exactly like that.”

You flicked your gaze up to your bedroom door. “I can’t leave her. Is she okay?” You moved to get up, and it was painful, but you managed. You slammed your hand on his shoulder for emergency balance, and you begrudgingly accepted his support across the living area. Mar was on her side in bed, squinting at her phone that seemed to already be on the lowest brightness. You whispered. “I got it.”

He let you go and walked back to the living room, and you shut the door behind you. You limped over to her and sat on the edge, tapping her ankle to alert her. Slowly her eyes moved to yours. The lipstick that had been untouched was now smeared across her cheeks, and her eyeliner bled and cracked off. “Are you, okay?”

”I think so. Are you?” You were doing exactly what Bruce just had; scanning her body at rapid speed, analyzing for any signs of injury. She looked a bit scraped up on the heels of her hands and knees, and you asked her to turn to take a look at her back. There was still the rough, muddied outline of his shoe from where it connected on her spine, but nothing else of note. Some general redness, and when you touched it she groaned, but didn’t shriek.

You looked into her eyes, but knew you had no idea what to look for. “Did he check you out already?”

She nodded, leisurely. “Shined something in my eye and told me to say stuff, I don’t remember what though.” Her words were still slurred, and the top of her nose was scraped, but nothing looked broken. You thought of the kick he’d done between her legs, and asked if she felt any pain there. She almost giggled. “Bastard forgot I don’t have balls. But, how,” She winced as she adjusted, her back rippling with it. “Cool is it he thought, I did.” She sighed and returned her attention back to her phone.

“Do you have pain anywhere?”

She glanced down at her palms and then pointed to her nose. Her biggest thing then was being drugged, and yours was whatever head thing you had going on paired with a throbbing leg. The thought of leaving your warm bed to go to a bright–fuck, BRIGHT–hospital made you want to actually die. You were gonna take your chances tonight. Oh, it was making you sick thinking about it…

“I’m gonna get some meds. Want some?” Whew, just a few steps through to the kitchen. I can do it! I’ve done it a lot! At least half of the journey is carpet, if I do eat shit. She nodded again (you were very jealous she was able to bob her head), and began your slow shuffle to the kitchen. The second you appeared in the doorway, Bruce jumped to your aid. You waved him off. “I think I’ll stay home.” You grabbed the counter for support.

“I’m taking you in.”

Furrowing your brow hurt your aching head. “I’m gonna take some meds, it’ll, be fine.”

“Then I’m staying.”

He sounded like a scolding parent. You shot a look at him and felt the ground wiggle beneath you. You squeezed your eyes shut which only made it worse. Tried to refocus on the medicine cabinet. So high…

“Let’s go.” He made his voice a bit louder, sterner. You finally scooted close enough to reach the handle, and now worked up the courage to grab it. You rustled around in there for a moment.

“You’re not really going to take that, are you?” His tone was biting. Footsteps, then he snatched the bottle of ibuprofen out of your hand. “Do you want to have a brain bleed?”

Shame coursed through you, another one of his thousand cuts. When you were able to look back at him, he had his eyes shut tight and his lips pursed, one hand holding the bottle and the other gripping the counter. He saw you looking at him and hastily turned away. The pop of the plastic bottle on the marble punctuated his apology. “Sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his hood removed somewhere between your bedroom and the couch. He huffed and tilted his head back to stare at the dark kitchen light. His shoulders rose and fell with every cycle of breath, one for every three blinks. The room was silent like that for a minute. He was so angry… no, he was nervous. Upset.

He caught your eye when you turned and his face fell into something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re not going, right?” He gave the smallest shake of his head and flicked the bottle a few inches. He didn’t wait for your answer. “I’m staying.” He made his voice strong, though you both knew you could kick him out and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Bruce,”

“You’re both incapacitated, leaving you here alone, it’s, it’s not an option.” He was getting flustered. You always took him there. He didn’t stutter, he never caught on his words, never caught on the sidewalk, never overlooked a pedestrian, fuck. His voice was raising, only slightly. His breathing got shallower, his fingers feeling chilled. “I need a minute.” He put his hands over his head and walked to the other side of the room, pacing in front of the couch. The fact the silence felt thick made you want to cut it. “I’ll be fine,”

“Please!” He dropped his hands at his sides and stood facing the cushions.

Deep breath in. Hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. He felt his chest start to release. Inhale, hold… exhale. Hold. Inhale, hold… exhale, hold… the feeling was coming back into his fingertips. Inhale, exhale. Hold… Inhale, slow, hold… exhale, slow, hold. Blink. Blink. Look at the wall. Couch. Hands. Jacket. In, out.

Another big sigh and a small shake, and he looked over his shoulder. He swallowed back globs of saliva that threatened to drown his vocal folds. His cheeks were pink, from what he had no idea. “I’m upset this happened to you.” He figured some transparency wouldn’t hurt, seeing as he’d just watched you get bludgeoned on the sidewalk and the… events of the past weekend. His jaw flexed. “And your friend.” He groaned, feeling frustrated tension fill him again. “I heard your shouting from blocks away. There were plenty of people.” His hands tightened in and out of fists, a motion you never failed to dial into. “No one did a damn thing.”

“Seems about right.” You slowly reached for the ibuprofen and put it back in the cabinet, letting it fall shut with a small tap.

Bruce was facing you now. “You don’t seem fazed.”

You shrugged, but couldn’t raise your shoulders in any meaningful capacity. “People don’t give a shit here.” You winced, as another blow of pain emanated the circumference of your skull. “Of course you don’t,” You flinched, speaking causing coils of pain to vibrate in your head. “Get it.”

He held back the full extent of his response, because he had a full argument sitting on the tip of his tongue. “I’ve seen the worst of it as him. I get it.” His enunciation begged no comment, but it was steamrolled.

“You don’t.” It was going to hurt to push all the words out at once, but the adrenaline of more friction with him was enough fuel to edge it out, momentarily. “You’re only able to be him because of your very unique, situation.” It was suffering to continue talking. “Even if people wanted to, to be you.” You took a small breather, placing both hands on the edge of the counter as the world whizzed by. “We can’t. We have, work, school, people are, shit.”

“We can talk about it later.” He walked to the cupboard and drew some water from the sink. You noticed him rinse it twice before filling. He held it out to you. “Drink. Sips.”

Some muscle in your finger had to have direct access to your brain because when you extended your arm fully to grab it, as soon as your pinky gripped the glass, you shuddered like you’d flicked a nerve. The glass clattered to the ground, exploding shards across the floor. When you ventured to move, he stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it.” He didn’t want you tripping with how unsteady your gait was. He moved to your side and grabbed some paper towels, squatting once more to gather the biggest chunks. “There’s a, broom. In the closet by the door.”

“Y/N?” Mar had made her way out of your room in a drunken shuffle. She’d said your name but her squinted, hazy gaze was focused entirely on Bruce, who was now facing her without his hood, without his mask, almost entirely exposed save the black around his eyes. Her eyes widened. “Is that…”

In your periphery you noticed Bruce’s eyes flick up to yours as his hands slowed. For once he was silent, letting you take the lead–naturally, it was the first time ever you didn’t want to. Fuck.

[elioslover]

Run-Ins- Harry Styles x reader

Premise: Harry decides to challenge a heatwave, If it weren't for a surprise run-in with an over-zealous puppy and its disgruntled owner, things would have been much worse.

Warnings: Sexy, sexc sweaty Harry. Gender neutral!

Word count: 3.2k || Other Writing

☀️

Skin sticking to shirts, the breeze carrying summer in full swing. It hadn't even reached ten am, and the weather was already swelting, only increasing by the minute. Harry had already tried to beat the heat, changing what was supposed to be an early afternoon run to one he was currently stepping out the front door to attend.

The rays of the sun had followed him since waking up, shining on him throughout the act of making coffee, blinding him from sitting on the porch and checking his phone for emails and notifications.

Harry didn't have a strict schedule for the day; the only thing he wanted to complete with certainty was his daily run. It was criminal enough that he had missed out on two opportunities last week and with the promise of a pure, stress-free fifty minutes, something that becomes increasingly sacred as more and more responsibility is piled onto his plate.

Without this one piece of his habit, he had zero routines to fall back on, and he felt stir-crazy at just the idea of sitting out his run for the sake of avoiding possible heatstroke.

Besides, the weather was still reasonable; he would just have to dress lighter and take extra care remembering to carry a bottle of water in case. Showering could wait until later- after all, he was unlikely to see or be seen by anybody.

So, with that, Harry rushed through his breakfast of a fruit salad, laced up his trusty sneakers, and grabbed a water bottle on his way out of the front door. He hadn't even taken a full step out into the summer sun when his skin was greeted with the feeling of opening an oven, steam sending a rush of heat straight to his face.

Without thinking, he walked back inside with determination, sifting through his suitcase for a pair of shorts even tinier and cooler than the ones he currently wore; his thighs were thankful, and so was his head once he threw an aged navy baseball cap on. 

He was ready now, certain this run wouldn't get the best of him. His day would be tainted, and that was embarrassing enough for him to admit, so when he stepped out into the heat once more, he tried his best to ignore the way his temperature began increasing like a reptile, instead focusing on the route he was going to take.

The usual park he had frequented recently was quiet for the most part- trimmed neon green grass stretching as far as the eye could see, and on a few occasions when Harry had forgotten his earphones, the singing birds were a welcomed replacement- something he found himself humming along to. 

But, his favourite part of this park was the little stream that started from the walkway and looped all the way to the end and back. If he was lucky, he might run past a duck with her gaggle of ducklings or pass by a couple having a cute picnic.

Five minutes into the run, Harry hasn't seen anything or anyone; he thinks he actually got lucky by choosing to run earlier than usual. This is as quiet as he has ever seen it, and with the wind on his back only blowing hot air around, he rids himself of the only item left holding him back. His flimsy black tee is off and strung lazily over his shoulder. His hands are empty, hat shielding a sunburn... why are his hands empty?

Harry suddenly pictures the forgotten bottle of water, sitting patiently on his side table, discarded when he had hastily decided to switch his shorts. The mere thought of water has him thirsty, and he looks forward to finishing this run more than usual.

Pushing his way up the incline of the dirt pathway, he promises himself a rewarding break once reaching the peak. But, with each step, his skin glistens sweat, heart thudding harder in his head, and he's slowing down for sure, forcing his muscles forward, ignoring the resistance created by the hill- certain he would be fine, just a little tired. Besides, it was good to be challenged- he needed to switch things up now and then.

Every muscle is asking him to stop, but he mistakes this for motivation and only presses on, relieved when the pathway shows an end in sight. Exerting the last he has to give, Harry looks down at his shoes, focused on putting one step in front of the other. His fists balled, arms flexed and pressed against his torso; Harry gives one final push before reaching the summit. 

And when he does, it's a lot harder to catch his breath than expected; every part of him feels like it's beginning to float away, and his ears are ringing with desperation to gasp for air.

He tries to steady himself, folding over, his hands resting atop his hips- skin warm to the touch- bending forward in an attempt to better open his airways, but the need to sit down is only encouraged, and Harry has to concede.

He finds himself sitting now, his legs stretched out before him, wrapping his arms like a chain atop his bent knees, and with a bowed head, he works to regain breath control. The wind wisps through the long blades of glass, whistling in tune to the songs of little birds, and the stream is strong; he wishes he had the strength to make his way over, at least dip his feet in the cool water.

The sounds all blend into one sweet symphony, so relaxing that Harry almost feels himself starting to relax. But his tongue is like sandpaper sticking to his palate; with each suck-in, his body begs for water.

The only thing that could distract him- and does- is the sudden feeling of something rustling against his side, trying to make its way into the gap between his arms and lap. It has a wet nose and makes familiar snuffling noises that can only be attributed to that of a puppy dog.

Lazily lifting and tilting his head to see better, Harry is greeted by the enthusiasm and curiosity of a very cute and very excitable golden retriever- wearing a pretty pink bandana, big brown eyes smiling up at Harry as if he were heaven itself.

Turning all of his attention to the pup- who is trying desperately to climb up onto him- giving it a rough and thorough ear scratch. 

"You're a friendly one, aren't you?" Harry chuckles, opening himself up to be further fussed over by his new friend.

"What's your name, huh?" Harry shifts and lets the dog continue sniffing him, reaching over to get ahold of its collar- a sparkly little disk covered in silver gems holds both a phone number and the name 'Beans'.

"Beans... Well, it's very nice to meet you, Beans." He smiles even wider as the pup reacts to its name, tail wagging, hopping all over him in the hopes of somehow getting even closer.

"Beans!” A voice called in the distance, quickly swept away by the breeze. Harry looked around, unable to spot anyone nearby, turning back to the pup currently occupied with trying to remove his baseball cap clean off of his head. He chuckled and scanned the area again, “I think someone’s looking for you, bud.”

“Beans!” The same voice sang, carrying over the hill straight to Harry’s heart. This time, Beans stops chewing and looks off in the direction of the searching song, and Harry follows suit, gaze settling just as the silhouette of someone starts to get closer. A harsh ray of sun forbids him from getting a good look at the person who is seemingly searching for his new companion.

“Is that your owner, Beans?” Harry asks, patting the pup with his free hand- the other working hard at helping shield the sun from blinding him further.

Beans' excitement only increases, tail wagging in all directions, eyes darting between Harry and the mystery person- still uncertain of whether to make a run for it or stay put. But, as the owner gets closer, amping up to call out for the cheeky dog once more, Harry is spotted sitting side-by-side with your dog.

And at the mere sight of you exiting the rays of sunshine, Beans is a jumble of jumping and excited barking. You release a relieved sigh, one you hadn’t known was trapped in your lungs, hyper-focused on the fact that you had lost control over your pup again. In fairness, what were you supposed to do? You had trusted her to stay, for just a second, whilst you fiddled with her matching collar and leash, but the promise of chasing an unsuspecting bird was just far too much for Beans to ignore.

You weren’t nearly fast enough to catch up to her- the whole point of walking with Beans was the promise of building better stamina, on your part- and once she was far enough ahead, you weren’t even sure which direction she had gone.

With dread, you followed your instincts up the hill, hoping she would have tired herself out by this point- she had done a splendid job of ensuring you were. What you hadn’t expected, hoped for, or even considered, was that someone might beat you to it. Seeing your naive little dog practically in the arms of some stranger was more than your nerves could handle today.

Legs starting to ache, you make your way over to the pair, thinking up some sort of jumbled-up apology for both your dog and the mere existence of yourself. But the man is smiling up at you- such a very pretty smile- and you almost lose all sensibility, startled as Beans hops up with vigour, bounding over and almost tripping you.

Harry starts to rise; the dull throbbing of his muscles is easily ignored as he gets a proper look at you. Beans is bouncing about, making it hard for you to walk much further, and the eagerness to meet you in the middle is what carries him your way.

He can see you perfectly now, and even though you’re mostly squinting, Harry likes how pretty your eyes look, being lit up by the sun. Trying to pacify your pup, hands patting at her, cooing to her to calm down, you do your best to examine Bean’s supposed new friend. His cheeks are so flushed that you feel warmer just looking at him, little droplets of sweat sneaking past his forehead, his skin glistening, muscles flexed. He’s very handsome, and you’re rather grateful for stumbling upon him, but he looks like he just completed a marathon, and with the way his chest rapidly rises and falls- shallow breaths evidently stopping him from cooling down- you actually feel concerned for his health.

Other than a discarded t-shirt, he seems to be empty-handed, and considering this may be the hottest day of the year, there’s no way he had chosen to go on a run without at least a little bit of water… right? He doesn’t seem to be too bothered because he’s still smiling at you with a fondness that you just know is a result of spending time with your dog.

Harry is still dying inside, an irritating sharpness at the back of his throat following each breath he dared to take, but long ago decided he could put up with it a little longer. After all, Beans is still circling his ankles, and you seem far too pretty to just give a greeting and a goodbye. Your own cheeks are slightly flushed, and Harry wonders if it’s from working up a sweat or simply shyness.

It happens to be both, with a hefty sprinkle of embarrassment and a dollop of regret for even leaving the house this morning. 

Beans running off, you could deal with. Having to make it seem like you weren’t, in fact, a moron of an owner- who on many occasions could be seen chasing after their pet- was a damn nightmare.

The quicker you said it, the closer you would be to putting this mess of a morning behind you. He’s just so pretty, though… and you’re thankful that he doesn’t seem to be the type to reprimand someone over a trivial mistake. So, with a much-needed inhale, the formalities begin,

“I’m so sorry about my dog-”

“Please, don’t apologise-”

“I swear, I’m usually a better owner than this.” You try reasoning, but it’s only for your own sake.

“I’ve seen much worse, honest.” Harry smiles reassuringly, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely as he crouches down to give Beans another rough petting,

“Besides, I got to make a new friend.” He beams up at you, “I’m quite fond of her already.”

“She majored in likeability.” You add with a playful eye roll.

He smiles at that, turning his attention back to Beans, scratching her belly as she rolls over sillily, moving side-to-side to ensure Harry gave her the best belly rub ever.

“I like you very much, Beans.” He beamed down at her fondly,

“Yes, I do. Yes, I do.” Beans loves all of the dotings, her tongue wagging in tune with her tail. Harry continues, 

“I love your silly brown eyes and your goofy smile, and I especially like your bandana.” He admires, glancing up at you.

“She picked it out herself.” You inform proudly.

"Oh, is that right?" His gaze shifts between you and Beans, smiling fondly at the situation he has found himself in, 

"You're a good girl, aren't you?" He hums, and you scold yourself for the way your thoughts turn filthy, stomach clenching at his praises.

Harry finds his feet once more, towering over you with ease. And, you can't even begin to ignore the sight before you- a practically naked man, desperately trying to cool down and enamoured with your dog. Every part of him is on full display; his chest still glistening, his tattoos shimmering in the sunlight, abs flexing and contracting on impulse.

He suddenly understands the utterly distracted gaze swallowing your features, finally sane enough to remember the lack of clothing he donned- how damp and frazzled he must appear. If possible, his cheeks are turning even pinker, all calmness replaced with the same heat he had worked so hard to dispel.

When Harry can't help but take a sharp inhale, you have enough reason to stop gawking at him and instead assist him in regaining his strength. Reaching into the tote bag currently slung over your shoulder, it takes only a second to retrieve what you were searching for, pulling out a mostly-full water bottle.

The bottle itself looks custom-made; probably something you had stumbled upon in a store, deciding it was too cute and camp to pass up on. Decorated in bright pink and pastel blue, two My Little Ponies prancing on either side.

You extend the bottle his way, and Harry looks at you curiously, taking a moment before registering what you're trying to offer. 

He feels bashful, but the mere presence of water makes it impossible to ignore the burning in his throat. So, he sheepishly accepts, his fingers brushing over your own. The water feels like a miracle as he welcomes it, and Harry thinks you might be a saviour disguised as a very pretty, very kind dog owner. When your face morphs into one of relief, the shame he felt is long gone.

After a hefty sip, you're tempted to reach out and wipe the small droplet that slips down his lip, and when Harry attempts to return your gift, you only shake your head in dismissal, getting ready to argue over the ownership of the bottle,

"Keep it." You insist, "You need it more than me."

"I couldn't-" He tries.

"You must."

Harry prepares to protest, but he can feel your sternness swallowing the space between you two, threatening to double down if he even tries. Instead, he accepts defeat, secretly grateful for your gesture,

"That's very kind of you." He commends, totally enamoured and already praying for a second meeting with yours truly.

"It's nothing, promise." You smile shyly.

Harry wants to use this opportunity to at least ask your name- this may be the oddest meet-cute he's had so far- but his mind is a scramble for what to say next, and by the time he manages to string words together, you cough awkwardly,

"Thanks again for taking care of Beans... And sorry again." You glance down at your feet bashfully, and Harry chuckles at your soft shyness,

"It's not a problem, promise." He reassures playfully, enjoying the way your eyes crinkled with a matching smile, 

"If anything, I owe you." 

You hope to god you're not blushing, and when you glance down at his hands, you almost lose all sanity watching the way the water bottle looks so small in his hand, thinking that they may be the perfect size to wrap around.... 

Thankfully, Beans barks enthusiastically, and you manage to pull it together enough to remember that home awaits; your body aching to kick its feet up on the couch, pour some fresh fruit juice, and perhaps take a well-deserved nap. 

"Well, good luck with the rest of your...run?" You confirm, and Harry chuckles heartily, 

"I'll give it my best shot." He promises before crouching down to address your puppy once more, 

"Thank you for keeping me company, Miss Beans, be a good girl for...?" 

"Y/n." 

"For, Y/n." He nods avidly, enjoying the way it rolls off of his tongue, smiling up at you sweetly. Beans lends him one last lick before retreating to your side, ready to follow you to the ends of the earth. 

"C'mon, Beanie baby." You nod at Harry in final departure, a shy smile still swallowing your lips as you turn on your heels and leave.

Harry stays put, watching as you slip further away, ready to descend this monstrous hill, excited puppy in tow. Glancing down at the bottle still clutched in his palm, he feels his heart racing- but this time, there was no physical exertion required. 

He wonders if he might get the opportunity to return your gift- to see you in general. 

But, what Harry does know with certainty is; Almost passing out from heatstroke can have its perks, after all. 

[tofumiarchives]

┊PASILYO┊˚✧

┊ONE SHOT┊DAZAI OSAMU X GN!READER┊

words: 1,941

unrequested

additional/warnings: ooc (?), cringe, nausea, mentions of throwing up (light), minor swearing typical Dazai suicide mentions (light), public display of affection, and uhh kising

Happy birthday to my glorious princess, y'all 🗣️‼️

Rays of sunshine outlined the furniture of the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai was at his desk, folding origami when he was supposed to be doing a report. It was one of those quieter days in the office, a rare day where there weren’t many cases to finish.

A buzz from his pocket. Dazai checked the notification, reading a message from none other than you.

|[Nickname]: sneak outside 🙏|

And they say he’s a bad influence…

———

Standing outside the building, you wait for him. It was the perfect weather, the sun decided to be warm—and not in the way where it’s painfully hot to the point that just a short walk would leave someone sweating.

“[Name]!” you easily spot the familiar caramel coat through the small crowd, Dazai happily escaping work to join you. “I got your message,” he remarked, walking until he’s right next to you.

“Happy birthday,”

A beautiful bouquet of flowers entered his field of view, forget-me-nots wrapped in a beautiful light blue. A silk white ribbon tied the thing together, a gift looking alike to the summer sky.

What’s next was a pretty sight, flushed cheeks and a surprised detective. Dazai couldn’t help but go speechless, not one to be used to affection. You almost wanted to tease him about it, but decided not to, showing a twinge of mercy upon the man.

“Hey… Earth to Osamu?” he snapped out of his daze, feeling you tug on his sleeve.

“Ah– uhm,” he makes a poor attempt to cover his embarrassing reaction, covering his face with a hand. It was fun to make him flustered, a feeling you rarely see him have. “Thank you…?”

You scoff at that dry reply, placing the bouquet on his hands before tugging his sleeve again, starting to pull him somewhere. “Come on, I’m spoiling you today, so we better start early if you wanna make the most of it.”

Dazai followed after you, letting you drag him on. It took a while, but he came back to his senses, a soft expression gracing his face at your words. “Really?” he asked, almost tauntingly as he tried to get a specific answer out from you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered, walking slower so that you’re side by side. “Whatever you want,” you say, looking at the pathway ahead as you barely conceal the smile on your lips.

“Whatever I want?” a cheeky grin. “Even a double suic–?”

“Anything but that,” you cut him off, turning your head just to see him laughing softly, slightly covering his face with the blue flowers.

The soft appearance of genuine happiness is a great look on your lover.

———

“Let’s try that one again!”

The sheer look of horror on your face was picture worthy. Dazai decided that the perfect way to spend his birthday was to try the roller coasters having motion sickness written all over it. “God, no.”

Sure, you did suggest going to the amusement park, but these aren’t the rides you expected to go to. Dazai was milking everything out of this opportunity, trying out every single attraction in the park but the calm ones.

How many times have you gone to the same roller coaster, now? Thrice? Four times? That drop still gets you. “How the fuck are you not even dizzy…?” you ask, sitting down on a bench to collect yourself

Dazai was laughing at your predicament, earning a glare from you. “Fine, fine, we’ll take a break from the rides,” finally some mercy on your nauseous self.

You sigh, before hunching over slowly, seeing black in the corners of your vision. “Fuck, I think I’m throwing up.” a pat on your back, but the brunet’s not very discreet giggles made it feel like it didn’t help at all.

Luckily, you didn’t start vomiting. You ended up buying him lunch despite his claims of not being hungry, making him sit down on a shaded table to eat. The park had a few food stalls around, so you two had plenty of choices to pick from.

His eyes scanned the selection of food stalls before his gaze landed on one. He perks up a little, tugging on your hand to get your attention. “Hey, let’s get takoyaki.”

You nodded, holding his hand as you went to the food stall, buying him the food he wanted before buying food for yourself. Dazai of course just had to steal your food, taking bits and bites here and there. You didn’t mind… mostly.

“... If you’re gonna end up eating my fries anyway, why didn’t you just buy some?” you ask, as he stole another bite with a shrug. You could only brush it off, wanting to get it over with so you could make most of your time here.

“Because stealing yours tastes better,” he replied, a terrible excuse. A mischievous glint can be seen shining in his brown eyes as his fingers stole another one, not even hiding it at this point now that you pointed it out.

You gave a sigh of defeat, letting him steal as much food as he desires. It was a quick snack break, before you two continued your little birthday celebration, so you just let it pass.

The sun was already shining right above you when you finally got back on your feet, fully recovered to try more attractions. His hand had found yours, as you looked for more things to try out. Dazai’s eyes found themselves following the path of the ferris wheel, the sight of it catching his eye.

Slow, scenic, peaceful—the complete opposite of the previous rides you two have gone on. A grin appeared on Dazai’s face, and he tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the entrance to the ride. “Let’s go on that one,” he says, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

You couldn't help but let out a breath of relief, seeing that he finally chose a calmer ride. The procedure to enter was short, buying a ticket, going in line, before entering the ride.

The gondola was simple, the sleek white car fitting the both of you on one side perfectly. It was slow and gentle, moving bit by bit as it got turned higher into the sky. “Much better than those adrenaline-fuelling ones, huh?” he mentioned, looking at you through his peripherals.

“Yes, actually. At least we can actually converse instead of screaming our lungs out,” you retort, turning from looking out the large windows to him, meeting his gaze with your own.

Dazai held in the laugh settling in his throat, shamelessly seeking your hand to hold again. He loved the contact. “You’re the one screaming out of fear, though,” he pointed out, pulling himself closer to you.

You roll your eyes, allowing him to be as close as he wants—as close as he needs. It took a while, but your capsule eventually reached the top of the circle, getting the highest view.

The brunet decided that you were a headrest at the moment, leaning his head on you before turning to the window on his side, slowly falling silent.

This was what you hoped you could distract him from. That faraway look was in his brown eyes as he looked at something long gone. It was another year. Another year without him, another year he'll slowly grow older than he could ever get.

Another year, and this time, he'll remember him longer than he's known him.

The view outside the windows was breathtakingly beautiful. Yokohama in clear view to both of you. From high-rising buildings to the crystal lake near the park, everything was graced with the warm afternoon light. Yet those brown eyes couldn't find the same warmth you could.

That solemn longing was a look you didn't want to see him make today. You wished his mind wouldn't have to think like this just for a day. Just for a moment. Just for now.

So, you nudge his leg with yours, earning his attention. “You wanna get crab later?” you ask when he turned to look at you, hands on his to hold. You'll distract him for as long as needed. You'll keep him away from those thoughts and bring the warmth he needed on a day he would otherwise hate.

Dazai turned around, snapping out of his train of thought at hearing your question. A smile stretched on his face, grip lightly tightening on your hand. “Of course the answer is yes,” he answered.

At least he doesn't look so solemn now. You subconsciously bring a hand up, brushing a strand of his dark brown hair behind his ear, your touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Way longer, actually.

“...touchy today, hm?” he teased, a cover up to him growing flustered under your affection. “What, can't keep your hands to yourself?”

“Don’t even start,” you reply with a threatening edge. Dazai raised his hand in surrender, keeping his silence with a cheeky smirk.

———

Crisp wind blew on your hair, you closed the door behind you in a rush. “Slow down, we just ran up a bunch of stairs–” you gasp out, out of breath as Dazai dragged you to a rooftop. The Agency building's rooftop.

The brunet only chuckled at your reaction, stopping to let you catch your breath. “Alright, alright! We're here anyway.”

You take a deep breath in, the air finally getting in your lungs properly. “We’re here early, you didn't have to– you did not have to drag me and run all the way up,” you groan, wheezing in suffering.

The sun was almost setting, hanging just above the horizon. You two wanted to catch the sunset, deciding that this is the best spot to watch as it settles down the city skyline.

Dazai held your hand, tugging you along to the edge of the building. “This would be a romantic time to die,” *he remarked, making you deadpan.

“Nuh uh,” you retorted, looking at his steps just a little more cautiously in case he decided to swan dive over the edge. “Would be a great time to watch the sunset though.”

As you said that, Dazai looked up, catching the way the skies were painted in pink and orange hues. It was an ethereal scene—one that should be painted to preserve.

You glance to the man beside you, seeing him gaze off into the sunset. It wasn't a lie that he was pretty, with how the sun outlined every feature on his face, basking him in a warm light.

“You’re staring,” he hummed, brown eyes glancing at you, already prepared to send a barrage of teases for catching you in the act.

Confessing you were was the only way out, then. You let out a scoff, the sound half a chuckle. “Yeah,” he turned to you, the sun leaving its last trails of warmth before letting the moon reign in the sky. “Happy birthday.”

Dazai smiled, a soft look on him. “Shouldn’t I get a present?” he asked, leaning towards you with a hint of what he wants. The brunet reached for your hand, pulling them to cup his cheeks.

A fleeting kiss, before another, dragging him closer to press your lips on his. You could feel how the warmth spreads to his face under your touch, feel how he smiles against each kiss.

You hear him giggle, leaning back just enough to speak, still holding his face. “More?”

“More,” he nodded, feeling giddy with each touch. Just for the moment, he felt that life was worth living. You pull him closer, resting your forehead on his.

“Whatever you want.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune