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moonlight-prose · 3 months ago

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smut prompt #8 for logan 👀💗

forty five minutes in the closet

a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.

summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.

OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.

The closet felt smaller than intended—even as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.

Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.

He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.

Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.

"Do you—um—know what usually happens here?"

A smile curved on his lips—eyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."

"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Oh–"

"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.

"Yes?" you breathed—eyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.

"Are you nervous?"

Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chest—quickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.

His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."

A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth opened—words still fighting to be formed—but he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.

"You mind if I kiss you bub?"

A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closet—settling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.

Glancing up—eyes wide and darkened with lust—you bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."

He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."

"Logan–"

Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."

It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.

You craved it.

He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.

"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.

Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.

The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?

How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.

Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.

He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.

Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neck—leading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.

"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."

A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomach—the breath torn from your lungs. "Inside–"

He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."

His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.

Oh how you longed for him to follow through.

"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.

The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.

You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.

"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."

Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide out—cutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sight—how your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.

"All for me," he sighed.

"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.

He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongue—ready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungs—legs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.

"Oh fuck–" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.

The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.

He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.

His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.

"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.

The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.

"I promise."

He chuckled, breathless. You joined.

The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.

"Hey Logan."

His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"

"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."

His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skin—soaking up your warmth. "Me too."

The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.

Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocket—his lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.

"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lips—willing you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.

Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffled—eyes rolled back—and he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.

His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.

"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"

Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.

He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.

"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"

You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cock—his other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.

"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.

"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoes—head falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."

"Mmff–" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.

Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.

Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.

You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.

To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an option—your legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.

He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.

"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.

"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."

He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckin’ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."

You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"

"Shut up–"

"He's told you–"

Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."

You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"

A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughter—his knuckles rapping on the wood.

"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.

"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.

"HE ROSE!"

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #my writing

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annwrites · 3 months ago

Text

⸻ being aegon ii targaryen's personal chambermaid would include:

↳꒰gif꒱

he would be wary of you at first.

he'd be acting under the assumption that you're dyana's replacement which has been hand-chosen by his mother to spy on him. especially since you are assigned to him & him alone, he later comes to discover when you tell him.

"Who are you?" "Your new chambermaid, My Prince," you reply with a polite curtsy, folding your hands in front of you while keeping your eyes downcast. "Dyana's replacement. Y/N, if it pleases you." He hums in feigned interest for a moment. "Did my mother send you, then?" You waver. "She did. I was hand-selected by her—" "To spy on me?" He interrupts, crossing his arms. Your brows furrow and you hesitantly meet his eyes. "No, My Prince." He rolls his eyes. "No, of course not. She sent you to what, then? Change my sheets and bathe my children?" "She...assigned me solely to you, My Prince. It was requested the maid be young and modest. Devoted wholly to you and your needs." He raises a brow. "Devoted? My needs?" He takes a step closer. "And did she disclose to you, what, precisely, 'my needs' are to be defined as?" You blink at him. "I assume tending to your chambers, My Prince. Cleaning and organizing them. Fetching your meals, and hot water for your baths. Tending to your clothing when necessary. Building the fire within your hearth and so on." His violet eyes trail along you while he chews the inside of his cheek. "Are you, then? Devoted to me?" He asks with a sarcastic snort. You nod slowly. There is no other acceptable way to reply than with agreement. "Of course, My Prince." He huffs, stepping away, pouring himself a glass of wine. "I shall leave you to it, then." You step over to his bed and begin stripping it of last night's linens—his gaze remaining upon you all the while.

he would act quite indifferent to you, initially. nevertheless, he watches your every move as you flit about his room, tidying & cleaning.

it takes awhile before he bothers with attempting conversation with you.

and when he does, it's 'innocent' enough in nature. he's always careful of keeping in-mind, that, when he speaks to you, he may very-well be speaking—by proxy—to his queen mother.

"You're very pretty," he remarks, feet propped up atop his dining table while he sits near a window, sipping idly on sweet wine. You slowly turn round to him from the mantle you'd been dusting. "M-me, My Prince?" He gestures toward the vacant room. "Who else might I be speaking to?" You nervously wring the small towel you hold between your hands, your cheeks warming, which causes him to smile slightly. "Thank you, My Prince." He takes a sip from his chalice. "Aegon," he offers. "No need for all this ridiculous formality when we spend near-every waking moment together now." You nod, unsure that it's appropriate to begin addressing him by his given name, but the two of you are alone. And you're meant to obey him. To please him. "Aegon," you reply with a nod, and a sweet smile. He raises his cup. "Better."

unable to help himself, the vow he made, internally, to keep his distance & make minimal conversation with you, falls to the wayside in his unhappy loneliness.

he, in time, will send for you for you when it is late and everything is too quiet because—oh, would you look at that?—the tunic he'd intended to don tomorrow needs a button replaced.

or—he's hungry and wishes for something sweet from the kitchens. he needs you fetch it for him.

but, before you can leave, he offers you some wine, or merely to share in his meal. all an excuse to keep you longer, you both know, but neither of you acknowledge it aloud.

eventually, he begins following you around his chambers while you're cleaning—so close that when you turn with arms full of sheets, you slam right into his chest.

he'll briefly apologize, tucking some hair behind your ear, before continuing on with his babbling.

"I went up on Sunfyre just this morn with Jaehaerys—it will be some years yet before he is able to ride his own, Shrykos, by himself. He laughed, though, the whole while. Helaena hardly bothers with ever leaving this damn place. Someone has to take the boy outside. She's so fucking dull. I wish mother had let Aemond have her, but I'm instead stuck—bound to her in matrimony," he states with a mocking lilt to his voice. He follows you over to his wardrobe while you hang up his freshly-washed tunics, trousers, and cloaks. "I mean, she talks in riddles when you do try conversing with her, so what's the point in even attempting? Do you want to know what she told me the other day?" You glance to him, then back to your current task. "She said that I will 'take up objects like a king of old' and 'so, too, shall Rhaenys come again'. What in Seven Hells does that even mean? Objects? What bloody objects? And we have a Rhaenys now. Is she planning a visit?" He grips your hip, so you turn to him. "Do you've any idea what she's on about in her madness?" You close the doors to his wardrobe, leaning back against it. "Maybe—" He cuts you off short, waving his hand, taking your own within it, walking you over to his dining table so you can tend to it next. "She's simple, is what she is. I pray our children turn out far different. Jaehaerys seems, already, to take more after me. Jaehaera looks more like her, but it's just as well: she's her mother." You begin gathering plates from when he broke his fast. "Have you ever been near a dragon?" He asks. You look up at him. "I've not." His lip twitches. "Do you wish to ride one?" "I'm not su—" "There is always the option of riding one without wings," he states with a wink, walking across the room, throwing the curtains to his balcony open, looking at you over his shoulder. "Fine day for it." You smile nervously, returning to your chores.

the day aegon introduces you to sunfyre, you're terrified, until he takes your hand in his, pressing it to the golden dragon's neck, and he practically purrs in contentment.

and then he has the two of you climb atop him, and you are given the honor—a singular experience—of riding through the clouds on a dragon.

aegon holds you close with a wide smile upon his lips whole he laughs contently with you in his arms.

the longer you're in his company, the more flirtatious he grows toward you. and, quite shockingly—even to him—loyal as well.

he ceases late-night trips to the street of silk, instead wanting for you to remain by his side late into the evening, until he manages to finally get you to stay long enough that you fall asleep in his bed while the two of you are conversing.

he'd honestly planned for you to stay so late that it's where you end up sleeping, but the thought of asking you to stay the night makes him feel even mildly pathetic. so, waiting until you were so exhausted that you merely passed out had seemed the next best option.

he still has yet to receive any sort of sign or confirmation that you feel similarly toward him as he does toward you: affection and fancying and all.

so, the next morning, right after you've woken is when he asks it.

"Do you like me?" You blink open bleary eyes which quickly widen when you realize you'd spent the night in the prince's bed. You shoot up—your hair a wild mess as you stare at him. "W-What?" "Do you like me?" He repeats, gently tucking tangled locks behind your ear with a shaking hand. "Yes, of course I do," you say, leaning the least bit toward him. He frowns slightly. "It is your job to say yes. Of course you would." He makes to get out of bed, until you grab his hand. He instantly turns back to you with a hopeful look in his eyes, much like a puppy might do its beloved owner. You scoot toward him, gently cupping his cheek. "I like you a great deal, Aegon. It surprises me, with all the time we spend together, you need me confirm it." He shrugs, lacing his fingers between yours. "It is your duty to be loyal to me. Kind and...what-not. It can be difficult to dissuade where that duty ends and true friendship—or otherwise—begins." Slowly, you slide a hand up his warm, bare arm, smiling softly. "All I do now, I do out of devotion which comes from me and me alone." He blinks at you, his face growing warm. "Devotion, hm?" You nod. He glances down to your hands—considering—remaining silent for a considerable amount of time whilst his heart pounds in his chest at the mere thought of asking his next question. But he does it anyway, despite his nerves, because he needs hear the answer. He has wondered for weeks. At the very least, has wished to hear it for that long. He's wished to for far longer, in truth, from anyone. But none utter it. Not his mother, or father, or siblings. Mayhaps...you will. "Do you...love me?" He asks, glancing to you from under silver lashes, wanting to crawl out of his skin, or take to the skies upon Sunfyre and disappear above the clouds for a few hours to escape this Gods-awful embarrassment. You smile widely, which he quickly matches—heart leaping and bounding in his chest at the hopeful sight. And then, most unexpectedly, you crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. "What gave it away?" He crushes his lips to yours in elation.

He deigns you are to spend all your time at his side from that moment forward.

you are to eat together, sleep together, take walks together. he wishes deeply to take things in a more intimate direction, but doesn't want to scare you off when he's only just earned your love.

nevertheless, he's a young man & can't help himself. he wants what he wants & what he wants is to be buried inside of you as much as possible.

"Have you ever...known a man?" He asks with a raised brow of interest. You still—your hand hovering over the game of Cyvasse you are currently winning—as per usual. "Do you mean—" "Are you still a maiden?" He quickly asks, thus elaborating. You settle your hands into your lap, heart fluttering at the knowledge he's after. "I am." He grins. "That pleases me greatly to hear, Y/N." You flush, growing warm between your thighs. "It...does?" He nods, resting his arm atop the table. Slowly, he begins to slide it to the left, knocking everything off the surface and onto the floor—game pieces, tiny elephants and dragons and trebuchets tumbling across marble. He stands then, as do you, and he leans over, grabbing your face in his hands, and he begins to kiss you passionately. And then he breaks the intimate embrace for only a moment. "May I have you?" He whispers, cock straining against his trousers. You smile lovingly. "You already have all of me, Aegon. I would deny you nothing when it comes to myself. Including this. I am, as ever, wholly yours. In every way." He grins widely before walking around the table, scooping you into his arms, and carrying you over to your now-shared bed.

aegon is painstakingly gentle with you in bed.

very slowly, he rocks his hips against yours, gazing down upon your face all the while.

he loves seeing the expressions you make—the flush across your cheeks and naked skin.

it makes him impossibly harder when you whine and whimper and moan and sigh.

gets him ever-closer when you call his name while he's deep inside you.

he tells you how much he adores you. how he loves and cares for you. that he'd do anything to make you happy.

He never bothers with asking you to drink moontea after he's spilled his seed inside of you.

You're the one, instead, who procures it for yourself, even if he actually—secretly—wants to get you with child.

He loves the three little ones he already has, so he'd very much like a fourth. Maybe a fifth, and so on. And the thought of it being with you? It fills him with inexplicable joy.

especially since the children he has now already enjoy your company just as much as he. and he knows you adore them in return.

You hold Jaehaera in your lap while Aegon plays with his boys across the room—Maelor slamming wooden blocks together and Jaehaerys giggling as his father makes a wooden dragon soar over his head, breathing fictional dragonfire. You read quietly to the little girl as she sucks on her thumb, staring at the illustrated pages before her with wide, violet eyes that much resemble her father's. Maelor stands, walking over to you, and then he gently tugs on your skirts. You smile down at him while he raises his arms, wanting you to pick him up. You set the book down, shifting Jaehaera to your other knee, and just as you make to retrieve the little boy, he utters it.

"Mama." Your head immediately jerks in Aegon's direction, and his in yours. You remain still, staring at him with unsure eyes, unknowing of what to do—what he must be thinking. And then Aegon smiles, and he calls the little boy's name. Maelor turns back to him, and Aegon's eyes flit to you for a moment as he nods in your direction. "Say it again, my boy." You open your mouth to tell him he should not be encouraging it—he already has a mother—but are interrupted. "Mama." You lift him into your lap, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You look back to Aegon and he beams at you in return.

unknown to you, aegon has been encouraging his children in secret to begin calling you as much.

helaena seems, at times, grossly indifferent to them—more interested in her bugs and riddles than anything else.

whereas you've always been attentive.

he knows you would make a wonderful mother to fruit of your own womb.

it is something he very much desires, so he begins hinting at it eventually.

"Is it not distasteful?" You raise a brow, dabbing at your lips with a cloth after having finished a small mug of moontea. "Hm?" He nods to the cup you hold. You shrug slightly, settling it atop the dining table. "It's a necessity." A muscle in his jaw feathers nervously as he comes closer to you, threading his fingers in your hair. "What if it wasn't?" Your eyes flit between his own. "I don't underst—" He rests his free palm against your belly, his eyes studying it for a moment before meeting your own once again. "What if it wasn't?" He repeats. A small smile crawls across your lips.

when you finally conceive, the two of you keep it a secret between you for as long as you can manage, until alicent one day catches the two of you in a private hallway.

aegon is smiling, caressing your stomach, telling you how the two of you should begin discussing names soon.

filled with fury, she returns to her chambers, then summons him to them to confront him on what he's done.

"With child, Aegon?! As if you have not sullied your great house's name enough—have not dishonored your father and I enough, as well as yourself time and again—you get a serving girl with child?" She shouts, her voice echoing across her chambers. Aegon sits silently upon a plush green lounge, his sweating palms tightly gripping his knees while he keeps his head slightly bowed, not wishing to meet her disapproving eyes. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" She asks in exasperation. "I love her," he states quietly. She mumbles something incoherent, pinching the bridge of her nose, wrapping her other arm around herself—her opposite hand coiled into a fist. "You've a wife—it is shameful I need keep reminding you! How could you've let this happen again, you fool? What of Helaena, or your children—" "Children she barely acknowledges?" He asks, interrupting. His eyes meet hers then, continuing on. "Y/N acts far more a mother to them than she does. She acts wife to me in all but name as well—gives me the love my own never has. That you never have." Alicent remains silent. "I know you are disappointed in me. Perhaps you've always been. I'm not what... Whatever you'd envisioned for yourself for your first-born son. I'm not like Aemond. And naming me after a Conqueror was never going to make me one, mother. My children, Sunfyre, and she are all that bring me joy. I won't let you take her from me." Alicent throws her hands up in exasperation, resting them on her hips. "What do you think to do, Aegon? Take her as your official mistress? It will humiliate all of us." He shakes his head, face screwing in confusion and irritation. "You chose her for me!" "To be your chambermaid, not your whore!" He stands then, fuming, hands bunched into fists as his sides. "Mayhaps you should've been more specific in your commands when you assigned her to me, then. 'Devoted wholly to my needs'? You mean to pretend you never intended this? For me to—to take her solely to bed so I'd stop visiting the Street of Silk, so I'd stop flirtations with random serving wenches? I give you what you want, and still I am punished for it! We are devoted to one another. Just leave us be!" Alicent seats herself, resting her face in her hands for a moment. "I will make arrangements. She and the child will be well-cared for. But this stain must be hidden. If not wholly washed from history altogether. No one can know. I won't allow it." Her eyes meets his then, which are filled with tears. "Please," he pleads as they begin to slip down his cheeks. "I don't want to live without her." Alicent stands, clasping her hands before her in finality. "It is done. I will give you an evening to say your goodbyes. Come the morn, she will be sent away to a location undisclosed to you." He roars in anger, throwing a wine glass against the wall, staring at her with a look of utter loathing before stalking out, slamming the door behind him.

come the next morn, however, alicent's plans never come to fruition when viserys is found dead in his bed.

aegon begs his mother not to make him do it—he does not wish to be king—but his wishes, are, as ever, not considered.

he keeps you close to him all through the day for comfort and reassurance, even if you yourself are frightened.

he will not allow alicent so much as near you.

he tells her that she gave him a conqueror's name, he lives in his home, has bestowed upon him his sword, coronated him with his crown, will be given his armor, and will sit his throne, so he—just like his forebear—will take a second wife for love.

"I know what my first measure shall be once I am crowned king," he whispers, his forehead pressed to your own, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he holds your face in his hands. You rest your hands against his chest. "What might that be, my love?" He leans back, gazing into your eyes with a look of certainty unlike you have ever seen—utter seriosity. "I mean to take a second wife."

and so, not but a couple days after he is crowned, the two of you are joined as one in the sept, much to his mother's dismay.

and so begins his employment as king of the realm, even if he is scared out of his wits and wants naught to do with it initially.

the clear disregard his small council has for his opinions becomes quickly apparent.

so he confides in the only person he knows actually respects him: you.

and you council him from the position of someone who is a commoner, trying to guide him toward mercy. not that he does not wish that for himself.

he just...wants his people to love him.

he wants to be a benevolent king.

but then aemond kills luke.

and then they come for his own children.

and he loses his little boy. his jaehaerys.

and he goes mad with grief.

you are heartbroken yourself—so distressed you fear losing the babe you carry inside of you��but you know you must calm your husband, even if you are frightened of him in this moment as he screams for war, and fire, and blood as he destroys his father's life's work.

"My love, please!" You cry through blinding tears, clutching at your pregnant belly, your little one stirring madly within your womb, as if it can sense your and its father's shared agony. And then Aegon holds Blackfyre in your direction—his eyes wild—and he presses the tip to your stomach. "My Jaehaerys is dead! That fucking whore took my boy! And you wish for me to what? Quell my rage?! You common whore! I see it now! I see what you are!" You back away slowly, terror filling you at his words—his unspoken threat toward your and your child's life. You shake your head, cradling your belly, your tears near to drowning you as you choke on them, unable to so much as speak in reply. "Get out!" He cries, reigning down on white stone spires. "Get out! I cannot look at you! Out! Out!" Ser Arryk grabs you by the arm, wrenching you away, toward safety. He spirits you away to vacant chambers, where he stands watch for your protection. And so you sit and wait—trembling in fear, terrified of what may happen to you now. He'd...he'd turned on you so easily. Had called you...what he did. Has he always seen you in such a manner? You try not to think on it too long. Tonight is not about you and your feelings. Jaehaerys is dead. He has been brutally murdered. And you want Rhaenyra to pay. Dearly. What happened to Lucerys had naught to do with Aegon. If she wished to punish, why had she not, instead, targeted Aemond? That little boy... Your little boy—for you have come to regard him as such. You will never hold him again. Will never sing or read to him again. Will never watch Aegon play knights and dragons with him again. You cradle your head in your hands, and weep. You've nearly cried yourself to sleep when Ser Arryk enters, telling you that His Grace is asking after you. And so you follow silently behind him, holding your belly, your chin wobbling in fear of what's to happen to you. You've never feared Aegon before. Never. But tonight...you fear for your very life. You enter his chambers, the doors shutting softly behind you, and you glance to them over your shoulder, wishing a guard had stayed. Mayhaps he ordered them out for what is to occur. You steel yourself, padding closer, tears slipping down your cheeks as you keep your eyes focused on Aegon who sits before the room's hearth, trembling and quietly sobbing. His head shoots up and you still. He stands and you clutch your belly impossibly tighter. He comes toward you and your heart hammers between your breasts. And then he falls to his knees, clutching at your skirts as he howls in agony. "Forgive me! Forgive me, please! I'm so fucking sorry! I'm so sorry! My boy! They killed my boy! You have to forgive me!" He suddenly stands then, taking your face roughly between his hands, his eyes flitting rapidly between your own. "Y-You have to forgive me. You have to! You're—You're my wife—Queen. You have—You can't leave me!" Gingerly, you wrap your arms around him and the two of you sink to the floor while you gently rock him. "My boy!" He hollers, echoing through the halls and into the night. It's some time later before you manage to coax him into bed. And once the two of you have lied down, dawn has just begun to grace the horizon. He wraps himself around you like a child would its mother for comfort, whimpering and sniffling and shaking in fear. So you sing to him the Song of the Seven. And he falls asleep in your arms, begging for Jaehaerys to come back to him.

aegon is very, understandably, sullen after jaehaerys' death.

he returns to keeping you at his side at all times—even during small council meetings—so you can soothe him.

and then otto suggests a procession where his baby's body will be put on display for the people.

and you watch the distraught look on your husband's face grow with fervor as the people in that room talk about his little boy like a prop to bastardize rhaenyra.

so you hold your husband, cradling his head as he cries against your breast, glaring at any who dare glance in your direction with questioning looks.

"You would dare use the corpse of your King's son for political benefit? Have you no decency? No honor? Have none of you children yourself, or is it hearts you do not possess?" Otto stands tall when he replies simply. "Your presence here is a mere courtesy to His Grace in his hour of need. You hold no seat at this table." "Your Grace," you hiss. "I am your Queen. You should remember that next time you mean to address me, along with whom is whom's better. The roles are now reversed, ser. And my position comes with a great many benefits. Including utilization of obtaining justice. In various forms." The King's Justice is the unspoken threat that hangs in the silent, taught air. None speak in his defense—including the King—leaving him suddenly without allies as you wield the metaphorical sword that is your tongue. He knows naught that you have done so before within this room—your husband serving as proxy as you gave him council on how to handle the very vipers which have made their nests all around you. He should have cut them off at the head. Then again, there is always time. Otto bows his head. "Your Grace."

read my post here on reader counseling aegon on what to do after alicent tells him to do nothing, in regards to politics, bc he is an "inferior king", essentially (it doesn't entirely match up with this post, bc when i wrote it, i hadn't entirely fleshed out my idea of aegon's & reader's relationship (as in: she becomes pregnant & subsequently, his queen).

after rook's rest, you remain vigilant by aegon's bedside, watching over him, doing whatever you can to help, or to soothe his pain.

he tells you he is a hideous beast now.

you assure him otherwise. that he is & will always be beautiful to you. inside & out. that he holds your heart entirely until it stops beating.

he "jokes" that he is fortunate he "got you with child before he lost his manhood".

he tells you he will never be able to pleasure you again. that you should abandon him and start your life anew with a new man. a man in general.

you assure him—as you trail your fingertips lightly along his body—that there are other ways you may pleasure each other. many things which you one day may explore together in intimate moments.

he begins to weep at your undying love for him.

꒰a/n꒱: more to be added, perhaps, when we get the next season. i'm not going to follow the events of fire & blood with this post since the show has stopped doing as much itself, which this post is based off of.

i know the text is both regular & small, but it's bc Tumblr is fucking stupid & fucked up my formatting.

#fic: hotd (aegon ii targaryen x reader)#aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #aegon headcanon #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aegon fanfic

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 6 months ago

Text

Reader Receives PeggyNats Nudes Accidentally

Authors note: For my ease, all of the drabbles for the couples will have reader receiving the couples nudes in the same manner (Though circumstances do differ). I apologize if this becomes repetitive.

Authors note 2: accidentally went a bit long with this one. Though I'm sure y'all won't mind lol

Warnings: smut (eating out and mirror sex)

Word count: 1198

Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

Both women step out of their shared shower and grab their towels, beginning the process of drying off. Once their bodies are dry they step off the mat in front of the shower and move closer to the counters

Natasha lets out a chuckle as she tousles the small towel that's on her girlfriend's head, earning her a playful glare from the brunette, “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”

Nat smirks, “Don’t lie, you like when I’m playful”

“Indeed I do, but that doesn't mean I won't tease you for it” Peggy admits with a smile and a wink that has butterflies erupting in Natashas belly

Seemingly oblivious to the feelings she's caused the redhead, Peggy continues to towel off her hair, giving Nat the perfect view of her bare muscles flexing. Her ogling however doesn't go as unnoticed, but the Brit chooses not to say anything and instead waits for Natasha to make a move

Nats eyes shamelessly take in every curve and crease of Peggy's body. From her toned shoulders, down to her solid abs and continuing down past her core, which she admittedly stops to admire a bit longer, until finally stopping at her thighs

“Bozhe, pochemu ty dolzhna byt' takoy chertovski privlekatel'noy(God, why do you have to be so damn attractive)?” she mutters, already forming a plan in her head

“Sorry darling, I didn't quite catch that”

Nat hums and takes a step closer to the other woman, making her turn to look at her. The mix of adoration and pure hunger in the shorter woman's eyes has her own belly doing flips.

“You look good enough to taste….Can I?”

Peggy's body reacts before she can even give a proper response and Nat watches in amusement as the brunette's legs automatically part to give her more room. Still, she waits for a verbal response

“Yes…”

Without wasting any more time Natasha drops to her knees in front of her girlfriend, and places her hands against Peggys thighs. She trails them over the muscles before moving them around to the Super soldier's firm ass, and gently squeezes as she brings her mouth to Peggys awaiting pussy.

“Oh hell…” she breathes out as Nats tongue swipes through her folds

Nat hums in response, sending vibrations through the other woman that have her clenching around her girlfriends tongue as she slips inside. Natashas nose bumps against her clit and she swears that if she wasn’t a super soldier, she'd be in need of some serious support to stay standing due to how good she's currently feeling. She's lost in that feeling of bliss for a few moments, until she gets a rather unexpected idea. Though she supposes it's rather time for her to be the cheeky one.

She reaches over to the counter where she had left her phone before the shower and grabs it. Now admittedly, she still doesn’t know how to use it very well, but she knows how to work the camera. And right now, that's all she's after. She opens the app and points it at the large mirror in front of her, moving around to find the perfect angle.

She knows that through all of this, Natashas eyes haven’t missed any of her movements. No matter the circumstances she never does. So before she takes the picture she looks down to confirm it's okay. The sight of the redhead with blown pupils and arousal dripping down her chin has a moan escaping Peggy instead of the question, but thankfully Nat knows what she intended

“You can take one” she assures, her voice a bit raspier than usual either from lust or how long she's gone without using it while focused on pleasing Peggy, “Just make sure it gets sent to me when I’m done with you”

Peggy nods and quickly snaps the pic before setting her phone back down on the counter, and Natasha eagerly reattaches her lips to her girlfriends clit. Without thinking Peggy buries her hand in Nats hair and pulls her face impossibly closer to her core

“Oh god! Natasha!” she moans, cumming into her girlfriends mouth,and Natasha takes great pleasure in the fact that she was able to get her girlfriends strong legs to tremble

She stays on her knees, gently bringing Peggy through her orgasm and cleaning up the mess she made until Peggy's grip loosens in her hair. She pulls away and sucks in a breath she hadn’t even realized she needed while her girlfriend looks down at her with a smile

“Come here, love” she says, reaching to help pull the Russian to her feet

Once standing Natasha finds herself being trapped between the countertop and her girlfriend as Peggy captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her lips part to allow the taller women tongue to enter and she fully relaxed as Peggys arms wrap around her waist

After a few minutes of making out the older woman pulls away with an affection filled smile, “I suppose I should send you that picture, before I forget”

“Oh, I wouldn’t let you forget about it” Nat says with a smile, but still lets her girlfriend go to retrieve her phone

As usual Peggy fumbles to get the picture sent off but once it goes through she seems satisfied. Nat picks up her own phone to look at the picture and is also satisfied, for all of five seconds. Because that's when she notices her girlfriends blunder

“Lyubov'(love).....you sent it to the chat with Y/n”

Her eyes widen as panic and anxiety build inside her as she thinks about their teammate, friend and longtime crush seeing that picture, “Damn”

In your room you hear your phone ding and decide that you've worked on paperwork enough today anyway. So you get up from your desk and plop down on your bed to grab your phone. You're quite happy to see that the notification is from the group chat with your best friends, who also happen to be a couple and a couple that you're madly in love with at that.

When you open the message you're greeted with a picture of a slightly foggy mirror that has the reflection of a fully naked Peggy staring back at you, and though you know you should, you can’t tear your eyes away. Your eyes continue to travel further down and that's when you notice a head of red hair that obviously belongs to Natasha as her bare back faces the mirror. You swallow hard and take a deep breath to settle your nerves and to figure out just what the hell is going on, but before you can get your bearings another text from Peggy comes through

I am so incredibly sorry, still figuring out this blasted phone

I would like to say that it's not a problem, but truly I don’t think I’ll be able to forget what I’ve seen….and I'm not quite sure i even want to

Natasha rereads your message three times to make sure she's reading it correctly as Peggy somehow gets out a reply, You don’t have to forget.

In fact detka(baby), you can even see more.

#peggy carter #peggy x reader #peggy carter x reader #captain carter #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #peggynat #peggy x natasha #peggynat x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

Text

Nik gets caught playing his favourite sport: Price Watching.

cw: sad Nik is sad; pining, wingman Laswell.

"What're you smiling at?"

"Hm?" Nik dragged his eyes away from where the captain was giving his briefing to the rapt attention of the gathered operators to give Laswell the side eye.

She raised an eyebrow.

"He did the thing," Nik said, unhelpfully.

"The thing."

"Da, the thing he does."

"Nik, Price does a lot of things..."

"You know," he grabbed the straps of an invisible carrier vest, rolled onto his toes and thrust his hips a little at the air, the movement rippling up the length of his torso in a perfect imitation of the captain currently gesturing over a map table at the front of the room, "the thing."

She smacked a hand over her mouth to stifle the guffaw and ended up blowing an undignified half-raspberry into her palm. Sergeant MacTavish raised his eyebrow at her before returning his attention to Price's briefing. She glowered at Nik.

"Laswell, that was very unprofessional," Nik breathed, amused.

"That's rich coming from you, I thought I was the only one who had noticed that," she hissed back in the practiced method of a woman used to keeping her voice hushed in the earshot of others.

Nik hummed and let the conversation lapse as John continued to walk them through the jump and intended target. Nik had read the file four times over and already forwarded his questions ahead of time. As they progressed onto assignments, he leaned towards Laswell again. "You are right. There are a lot of Price things."

"Oh?" She smirked. "Go on."

"When he finishes, he will tap the lieutenant once on the chest with a flat palm as he is standing closest."

She shook her head at him, her smile soft. "Nik..."

"I am right, you'll see."

"What else?"

"He blinks rapidly when he smiles. It is..." He trailed off, but Laswell had the creeping suspicion that the word 'beautiful' or even 'cute' had been about to come out of Nik's mouth. "And he twitches his nose before he drinks his coffee."

"Have you thought about asking him out for a coffee rather than watching him drink it from afar like a peeping tom?"

"He would say no."

"To a coffee?"

"Not to the coffee."

"Somethin' to add Nikolai?" Price called over from the front, and the sternness in his voice made both of them snap to attention.

Nik cleared his throat. "Nyet, captain. Only explaining the exfil to Laswell in simpler terms."

"Leave it 'til I'm done, I'll take any questions at the end."

Laswell nodded tightly and then kicked Nik's shin when Price returned to his explanation. "Asshole."

"Da."

"I'll tell him, you know."

"No you will not."

She sighed. They lapsed into silence again.

Nik continued to watch Price with the same open, adoring expression he thought was camouflaged by the crowd of soldiers around him. Laswell had seen that look on him so many times and yet Nik had never tried to progress his adoration beyond pining from afar. She couldn't understand it; they were perfect for each other. Whipsmart intelligence, bloody minded, grumpy in the morning, mischievous, scars behind their eyes... the list could go on.

"You should ask him out," she whispered.

"I am too old for him."

"Now you're just making excuses..."

Someone had the audacity to shush her and she turned to give them the stink eye only to come face to face with the colonel. Alejandro raised an eyebrow and she gestured her apology with two raised hands before turning back to face the front.

She watched as Nik went to receive the written answers to his enquiries to review before the flight, and waited for Price to head off to his office before she approached Nik again. He was studying the note closely, far longer than necessary. "Handwritten," she said meaningfully, her eyes darting over the notes in Nik's hands.

The briefing concluded and Price... did exactly what Nik had said he would do; one pat on Lieutenant Riley's chest as he dismissed the gathered operators to their assignments. Nik raised both eyebrows and pressed his lips together at Laswell in the most comical 'told ya' expression she had ever seen.

"Da."

"You can't torture yourself like this forever, Nikolai."

"Lucky for me that I do not have forever."

"Macabre, even for you."

He sighed, folding his note from Price carefully so that he could tuck it inside his jacket. "Everything beautiful in my life is taken from me, Laswell. My family, my country. If I keep him at a distance, then there is a chance I will not lose him too. Let me have... this."

"This is yearning and agonising from afar while he's oblivious. It doesn't seem like much."

"It is enough."

"There are no guarantees, not in this life."

"This is true."

She stared at him in hopes of more, but he only looked back placidly. "Coward..."

"Da."

She sighed and threw her hands up, exasperated. "One coffee, Nik. What's the worst that could happen?"

"He could fall in love with me."

"Jesus."

This was going to be a project, wasn't it? Well, what was it that Price said? In for a penny, in for a pound.

#nikprice #cod nikolai #captain john price #kate laswell

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angelicsoka · 10 months ago

Text

YOU’RE SOMEBODY ELSE, t. zegras & h. brothers

part two <3

word count | 1.4k

pairings | trevor zegras x fem!hughes!reader, platonic!luke hughes x sister!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x sister!reader, platonic!jack hughes x sister!reader,

summary | the youngest hughes sibling is slowly becoming someone she can’t recognize

warnings | mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, and depression. ANGST. not proofread. this is not a very happy fic, based on the song you’re somebody else by flora cash. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended. uses of the nicknames for reader include: miss sunshine, bub, & kid

a/n | i’m surprised with how my other post turned out, i definitely was not expecting that lol. here's another sad fic, based on another sad song. i wrote this at 1 am when i couldn’t sleep, so i apologize if this sucks.

you held the balance of the time

that only blindly i could read you

but i could read you

it's like you told me

go forward slowly

it's not a race to the end

she was their sunshine. the youngest hughes sibling and luke’s twin sister was an open book. she wore her heart on her sleeve, and was the sweetest soul around. she had her brothers wrapped around her finger, and it didn’t take long for trevor zegras to fall for her enchanting smile. he made her happy, something only her family had ever truly achieved. quinn remembered the moment she ran into his room, threw herself on his bed as she squealed: “quinny, i think i’m in love!”

quinn held a soft smile on his face as she went on and on about the date trevor had taken her on. she had trusted him to hold this secret until the couple was ready to tell the two other hughes brothers, who would more than likely overreact. “well, bub, i’m happy for you, but if he hurts you, you tell me and i’ll break his face.” quinn promised, laughing when she hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“please, as if!” she laughed, getting up to hug quinn. “thanks, quinny. i love you.”

“i love you too, kid.” quinn watched as she practically bounced out of his room. she was so clearly in love, blinded by it even. maybe that's where everything went wrong. maybe they moved too fast, maybe she needed to learn to truly love herself before she could truly love him.

you were the better part

of every bit of beating heart that i had

whatever i had

i finally sat alone

pitch black flesh and bone

couldn't believe that you were gone

trevor zegras loved her, he loved her more than he thought he would ever be able to love someone. and it wasn’t that she didn't love him, it was that she didn't love herself. she made trevor a better person, made him want to do right by others. if she had taken the time to take care of herself like she had taken care of everyone else, maybe they could’ve made it. maybe, he had loved her too much. maybe, they were doomed from the start.

now, trevor was alone, unsure of what to do. she had left him, claiming that she wasn’t ready. that she loved him, but she could never love him like how he loved her. that she didn’t know how to love herself, so how could she love him? still, trevor blamed himself. he was angry that he couldn’t have shown her how much good she brought to this cruel world. he spent too many nights stuck in thought about her, about how things could’ve been different.

she spent too many nights stuck in thought about how the world would be better without her. about how things would be better for everyone if she was gone.

well, you look like yourself

but you're somebody else

only it ain't on the surface

well, you talk like yourself

no, i hear someone else though

now you're making me nervous

change is inevitable. it is bound to happen, yet the youngest hughes sibling feared change. she felt herself becoming a person she could no longer recognize, it was like her body was a house that had been intruded by unwelcome visitors. she looked the same, yet she had changed so much.

she never told her brothers the real reason she had broken up with trevor, instead she simply told them they had grown apart. however, one look at trevor zegras told them it was more than just that. it was after that they began to notice the subtle changes in her: the joyous laughs that use to fill the lake house were much more quiet and less frequent, and her smile never quite met her eyes.

it was after luke caught a glimpse of the scars that littered his twin’s thighs and stomach that they knew it was serious. luke tried to talk to her, to figure out what was going on but she would find anyway to divert the conversation, to get away from the inevitable change.

luke led his twin into the basement where quinn and jack were waiting. he had promised a movie night, just him and his sister and god, did he feel guilty about what he was about to do. he quickly shut the door, blocking her only way out. the look on her face made him want to break down. the once bright, bubbly girl looked nervous and so very tired. tired like she knew she couldn’t keep going like this without telling someone.

she took one look at her older brothers before breaking down in sobs. luke was quick to embrace her, jack and quinn on their feet in an instant. the words tumbled out, the need to tell someone being so unbearably overwhelming.

“i can’t do it anymore. i can’t keep living like this. i can’t look in a fucking mirror because i hate myself! i hate how i look, the way i talk and laugh! that’s why i do this to myself because i fucking deserve it!” she rolled up her sleeve, revealing the healing scars.

“there’s this fucking war going on in my head and i’m losing. i can’t keep going, i don’t wanna keep going! i wish that i could go back to when i was a kid, to when i wasn’t so fucked in the head.” the words just kept coming, as well as the tears. she couldn’t see it, but her brothers were in shambles at this revelation. the fact that their sister hated herself so much she would physically hurt herself, that she couldn’t see how much she meant to them. “maybe i’m just better off dead.”

“don’t say that, don’t you ever fucking say that or even think that.” luke pulled back, looking to his sister.

“bub, why didn’t you tell us you felt this way?” quinn questioned, watching as she took the tissue jack offered her. she sat on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. jack sat beside her, looking at her with teary eyes. luke was on her other side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. quinn sat in front of her, a broken look on his face; he was the oldest of them all, he was supposed to protect them. why couldn’t he have protected her from this?

“i didn’t want to be a burden.” she sniffled, avoiding eye contact. jack scoffed beside her, pulling her gaze to him.

“you? a burden? miss sunshine, you could never be a burden. your feelings are not a burden.” she felt relieved, glad that she would not have to carry this weight alone. tears began to cascade down her face as she allowed jack to hug her. she cried as her twin and oldest brother joined.

“you are so loved, miss sunshine. so fucking loved.” quinn kissed her forehead, a smile creeping on to her face.

“thank you.” she rasped out, drying her eyes. she fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. “i was promised a movie night…” she trailed off, a smile adorning her face. this time it reached her eyes. “but first, i have someone i need to talk to.”

she stood up, walking to the basement bathroom. she closed the door behind her, taking a seat on the lid of the toilet. she dialed a number on her phone, hesitating slightly before she hit the call button. it rang a couple times before he picked up. “hey, z, you busy?”

“are you alright?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. just really needed to hear your voice.” she smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned, concern clear in his voice.

“yeah, i'll explain everything when you get here next week, i just needed to hear your voice.” she heard distant voices on his end, followed by rustling as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

“i’m sorry, but i gotta go.” he sounded upset, still clearly very concerned about her.

“that's okay, z. uh, before you go, i’m sorry... about everything.”

“its okay, it'll all be okay.” more distant voices could be heard, “i gotta go, i love you.” he ended the call, probably not realizing what he had said. it was in that moment, she knew everything would be alright.

i saw the part of you

that only when you're older,

you will see too

#angelicsoka #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #hughes brothers x sister reader #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader

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shiggyscumrag · 3 months ago

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HEY HEY !! Just read your Logan fic and I NEED MORE , your writing is amazing. Please could we get some pain kink/masochist Logan with a slightly dom reader , fem or gn idm!!!

I HOPE YOU ARE WELL !!!

(Specifcally thinking of the scene where he puts the cigar out on his hand.)

HEYYY POOKIE!!!! 💋💋 thank you so much you’re too sweet 🫶🏻 I am in LOVE with this request so I will indulge you lol. I did not proofread this so I apologize for any warnings I might miss and for any mistakes/misspellings!!

Synopsis: Logan was having so much fun teasing and edging you all night long, while you were growing more frustrated by the minute. Deciding you aren’t waiting any longer, you hop on top and show him just how you want it. Maybe some pain will make him remember who’s in charge.

Warnings: choking, biting, hickies, edging, top reader with sub Logan, hair pulling, Logan using his claws on you, freaky shiz

One hand circling at your clit and the other wrapped around your throat. Tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks as his cock pushed in and out of you at an absolutely brutal pace. Your legs over his shoulder stretched as far as they could possibly go. Panting to keep up you were getting close again. He knew that, yet Logan just loved the flush on your face and the tears in the corner of your eyes too much to stop. Then he did. Pulling both his hands away and stalling his hips still deep inside you.

“How much longer are you gonna make me wait!” You whine out hands starting to trail down to your clit. Hoping to find some relief since he’s enjoying his games a little too much.

“No, no, now you know better than to try that.” He grumbles in a raspy manner wrapping his hands around your wrists pinning them above your head. Face to face he plants a kiss to each cheek and then your jaw slowly working his way down your neck. He places a gentle kiss on each collar bone, you start arching up your chest to meet his hot lips. Kissing down in between your tits he starts moving farther tickling the skin on your stomach with his beard. Coming back up right before he could place a kiss on your clit he laughs.

“How bad do you want it?” He has to be joking right? You’ve been begging to cum for an HOUR! Retracting his claws only an inch or two he drags them across your outer thighs, the cold metal making you shiver.

“Real fucking bad.” You tease letting your voice lower into a deeper octave feigning a whimper, your legs snake around his waist bringing him even closer. Smirking he leans farther down to kiss you slightly loosening his grip on your wrists. Perfect.

Using your body strength you flip him onto his back now holding his hands above his head. Grinding down on his dick he groans in confusion.

“What the hell? This is hot, but-” interrupting him your other hands covers his mouth. He tried to move his hands but you hold steady so he doesn’t put up a fight. Stilling he gives into your little game.

“I want to cum. So hold on hot stuff.” Not giving him any warning you slip him in with no hands. Moaning loud his hands instinctively went to grab your hips. Holding strong you let out a laugh beginning to ride him.

“Not tonight baby. You had your chance to fuck me. I’m in charge now pretty boy.” You lean down whispering into his ear. Placing a kiss right behind his ear you continue to bounce on his cock. Biting down hard on his pressure point has him moaning loudly right in your ear. You taste a little metallic in your mouth. You can feel him twitch in you and it had your walls fluttering around him. Looking down at him you see his claws starting to poke out again, and an idea popped up in your pretty little mind.

“Use your claws on me.” You almost laughed at how his tightly shut eyes opened so wide so quickly. It was inhumanly fast. No pun intended.

“What?” He asks almost like you’re fucking crazy. Maybe he’s a little right.

“Scratch down my back like I do yours. Just be a little more gentle than me.” Pulling your hand off his wrist he sits up his chest meeting yours. He chuckles under his breath at your comment, his hands finding the small of your back squeezing slightly. You jumped a little when you felt his cold claws start to apply pressure on the top of your shoulders. Looking longingly into Logan’s eyes you don’t hold back the moan that breaks from your throat when you feel him start dragging his claws down your back. The pressure breaking your skin lightly, marks forming in their wake. Halfway down your head falls back and you feel really close. The sting and sudden burn has your vision blurring in the best way possible.

“Fuck you’re so sexy.” He’s grinning wide with a scrunch in his brow. Biting your lip you look back down at him, your legs growing tired but you’re determined to make him cum with no help. Maximum effort as Wade would say. Your left hand finds his throat squeezing hard and pulling him into a sloppy hot kiss while the other grips his shoulder. You start to bounce faster curving your pelvis into his. He starts to pull away moaning but you hold onto his bottom lip, biting him playfully before letting go.

“Holy shit- I’m gonna cum!” He grunts out. Holding back a very obvious whine. It came out a little bit at the end. He was gonna be the death of you.

You almost cum from those words alone. Moaning, coming out more like a bratty whine, you take your hand away from his throat to rub your clit. The hand on his shoulder moving to the base of his neck, pulling on his hair deliciously. Head falling back Logan’s hands crush your waist forming a bruising grip. Just from the pure pleasure consuming him. Finding the perfect rhythm you can feel the final stroke before you cum all over his cock. Milking him you can feel him fill you up no more then a few seconds later. The shudder that runs through his body has your body heating up and your lips curl into a smile.

“Logan! Oh fuck- fuck that feels so good!” You’re now shaking as you slow your pace. Still riding out your high his hands make their way to your hips guiding you.

“God, you ride me so pretty princess. Made me feel so good.” Kissing your neck he starts to give you a hickey. Moaning his name again you feel satisfied.

I’ll write more masochist and or sadist Logan in the future bc I enjoyed writing this but I’m not completely satisfied with it.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #logan howlett xmen #logan howlett fic #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine xmen #wolverine #top reader #sub Logan howlett

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gaycragula · 8 months ago

Note

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x assassin male reader who surprises Ghost with a sweet passionate kiss while hanging upside down?

Spider-Man Kisses

Pairing: Ghost x M!Reader Word Count: 679 Warning(s): Suggestive content, kissing, implications of a boner, descriptions of blood and gore, outright violence for the first 2 paragraphs, blood, assassin reader, assassination, graphic descriptions of blood Masterlist

Extra notes: Intended for m!reader but could be read as gn!reader. also im so sorry it took me forever to get to this </3

You let out a quiet grunt as you yanked your blade from a man’s body, pulling a handkerchief from your pocket to wipe it down. The man clawed at your boots, whatever he was trying to say coming out as gurgles as blood dripped from his mouth. You kicked his hand away, grimacing at the streak of blood he left on you.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of him struggling stopped and you let out a breath. You removed the ring from his finger and pocketed it, evidence that he was dead. He was a high priority target, you’ll get paid nicely for the kill.

You made your exit, quick and quiet, making use of the alleyway system to stay out of sight until you were a comfortable distance from the crime scene. Your pace slowed when you noticed a familiar figure appear ahead of you, walking in the opposite direction.

His apartment was in that direction, you assumed that’s where he was heading. You debated for a moment whether or not to cut him off, surprise him if you will. It wasn’t often you got the chance to catch him off guard.

It was a quick decision as you rerouted yourself to cut him off in the most convenient manner and you perched yourself atop a fire escape. Not long after, you spotted the outline of your boyfriend in the distance again. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

You didn’t get to see him very often. Both your current jobs keeping you separated most days. He must’ve just gotten back that day, it was rare that he wouldn’t call when he was home.

As he got closer, an idea popped into your head and you quickly put it into action. You hooked one leg around the railing of the fire escape, making sure it would hold your weight. You waited a little longer, listening to the sounds of his steps before you slipped yourself off the fire escape, ending up a few feet in front of him, upside down.

“Surprise!” You smile, trusting the punch he threw out of defense would stop before it hit you.

“Bastard,” you hear Ghost hiss out as he drops his fist. Despite the harsh name, you watched his face soften when he saw you. His usual cold demeanor warming up ever so slightly. You swear you could see a smile dance over his face for a split second before it went still again.

You chuckle out an apology before gesturing for him to come closer. Once he was in reach, you grabbed his face gently and pulled him into a kiss that quickly turned heated. “Couldn’t help myself,” you whisper between kisses, smiling against Simon’s lips. His lips were rough, as they often were, but you couldn’t help but love the way they felt against yours. “Missed you so much.”

Ghost’s hands found your arms and he mumbled something against your lips before separating. “C’mon down.”

“Right, one moment please, my good sir,” you tease before unhooking your leg and, with the help of Ghost, getting down on the ground.

You weren’t down for more than two seconds before Simon had you backed against a nearby wall, his lips back on yours. Your hand moved to cup his face while his moved to your waist. Both of you were breathless when you parted, chests heaving as you looked at each other.

Ghost leaned into you, placing his forehead on yours. You smile up at him, rubbing your thumb along his jawline before you trailed your hand into his blonde hair, brushing your fingers through it. His eyes lidded as he moved to kiss you again, his hand traveling under your shirt to sit on your waist. “Your place?” You breathe out as he separates and leans down to kiss your neck.

He nods against you. “Now,” the desperate tone he had mixed with the roughness of his voice had your heart skipping a beat, your pants suddenly feeling too tight as you grabbed Simon’s hand and tugged him in the direction of his apartment.

#ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #male reader #x male reader #x reader #cod x reader #fluff #implications of smut #suggestive #kissing #men kissing #spiderman kisses #upside down kisses #call of duty x male reader #established relationship #requested #not beta read

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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

Text

6.1 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.

Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.

A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment.

If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.

Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch.

After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom.

After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.

Lily. Again.

Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.

“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”

“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now.

“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”

Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”

“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”

“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”

Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.”

“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call.

Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch.

With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”

Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss.

“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”

“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him.

After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”

Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”

Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.”

Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,” she offered hopefully.

“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”

The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.

“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”

“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.

“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”

“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”

“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit.

“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

Text

with me + part two

authors note: well, holy shit, the response to this has been so unexpected yet insanely appreciated and humbling! the kind words of support and interest really have been so wonderful to receive. thank you thank you thank you!

this ended up much longer than i intended, but i couldn't find a "good" place to break it in half, so i apologize for the length.

i also feel like this is a bit on the boring but necessary side in terms of setting the scene and backdrop for what's to come....

i also feel like this is gonna def be more than 4 parts, so sorry!!!!

warnings: language, slight sexy time, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

words: 7.5k

tag gang: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @tshepisho @lizzycaraballo-blog @xiamentshoneypot

“I need a break.” He slid out of you, the absence of his thick dick noticeable and borderline uncomfortable. Despite the fact that your voice was hoarse, limbs jello, and pussy tender as all outdoors, you still wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside you. But you knew you also needed some amount of time for your body recoup for the next round, so you made logic overpowered lust.

He made a sound, lying on his back, eyes on the ceiling. “So fucking needy for this dick.”

“Shut up.” It was intentionally not a denial, because he wasn’t entirely wrong. It’d been a shitty past couple weeks, what with parent teacher conferences, your least favorite time of the year. There were only so many different ways you could try to gently explain to parents that their child wasn’t the next Cornel West and actually could benefit from “additional evaluations.” But that almost always went over their heads as they attempted to tell you, the professional, the real reason why their child wasn’t doing well.

You were just over all of it and damn near at your wits end when you got the text from Joe that he’d be in town this weekend. That goofy ‘i’m about to get some good dick’ smile was damn near stamped on your face in the days preceding his arrival. You needed an outlet, and wearing yourself out on his dick until you were physically incapacitated happened to be the perfect one, the best one.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have options, you did, but they were subpar. And that was the problem with having a chance to experience superior dick, everything else that followed was mid. No one had ever fucked you like Joe. No man before him had ever made you come from just penetration. You always needed more. Had to sometimes physically instruct them on what you needed. Not with him. He gave you more—-the man could and had stayed with his face buried between your legs for hours on end—-but it wasn’t necessary. He could fuck you to a toe curling, light blinding climax with just a few good, deep strokes.

And yes, you still struggled with the guilt of fucking someone else’s man, but in times like this, where you were beyond stressed the fuck out, all you could think about was getting off and decreasing that stress. The guilt session could come later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You could both be around each other and not say a word without an ounce of discomfort. It was nice.

“Parents suck.” You answer, bluntly, afterwards realizing how vague that is. “I’ve had parent teacher conferences the past couple weeks, and they’ve been getting on my nerves trying to tell me how to do my job.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“Beyond, and makes me feel like they’re insinuating I don’t know what I’m talking about. I do. They just don’t want to hear it.” They prepared you in school, to some extent, to expect those select parents that weren’t the easiest to work with but to always stand behind your professional judgment regardless if one agreed or not. And for the most part, your parents in the years since you’d been teaching were relatively chill. It just seemed that this time of the year is when all of them decided to be in their difficult era.

One hand behind his head, Joe looks over at you. “Then that’s on them.” He shrugs. “You can’t make them hear what they don’t want to hear.”

Groaning loudly, you turn on your side, propping your own head up with your hand. “I know. It just sucks for the kids. There’s a couple who might be on the spectrum or have ADHD, but I can’t outright say it, so all I can do is strongly imply. And trust me, my implications are clear as fucking day. It’s just annoying when I have to work harder than I should to get people to be their kids' advocate, not their adversary.”

He’s quiet for a second and then asks. “What’s the best part of your job?”

The answer doesn’t even require contemplation. “My students. Hands down. I love kids. I love helping them learn and seeing the excitement on their face when they finally grasp a concept I’m teaching. It’s super rewarding.”

His gaze lingers on you, “Then focus on that. You do this because it’s a passion and a love and you’re clearly good at it.”

His words marinate over you, reminiscent of past conversations where you’re the one feeding positivity into him, reminding him to not lose focus of what’s most important and why he does what he does. The roles being reversed is different but nice. It’s nice to have him to talk to, it’s always easy to do so.

You move your hand to his chest and slowly walk your fingers downward. “Good dick and good advice. This trip is a double win for me.”

His jaw clenches when you begin to stroke him, sinfully and intentionally slowly. A smirk forms on your face. He’s just as needy for you as you are for him.

Joe’s voice is hoarse with desire. “You ready for the next round?”

“Yes.” You’re not sure if physically, you’re well enough, but that’s what epsom salt baths are for. And Motrin. You need him. Climbing on top, you grab his hardened length and align it at your entrance, dew coating the tip and serving as natural lubricant. “But I want to be on top this time.”

________

“Mommy!”

You’re startled awake by the loud voice, jumping body, and smiling face of your personal alarm clock. The only alarm clock you’ve ever had that you can’t dictate the time it goes off. It takes a second for you to settle yourself, to push away the inappropriate afterthoughts of such a salacious dream—one you’re slightly disappointed couldn’t play out longer—to focus on the little human in front of you.

The shining sun beaming down on you from the curtains you’re certain she opened assists in doing just that. You rub at your eyes, a small, warm smile growing. “Good morning, Callie Bear.”

Her eyes, big, brown, and always full of curiosity are focused on you as she stops jumping and lands on her knees. “You’re up!”

You chuckle, how can you not be up with a rambunctious four year old jumping on your bed and screaming for you to wake up? ”I’m up.”

“Yay!” She cheers, tiny fists raised up and victory. “Can we have pancakes?”

“I don’t know.” You pretend to contemplate her request, index finger against your bottom lip. “Can we?”

She pouts, and you bite on your lip to suppress your laughter. Her arms cross over her tiny chest, bonnet covered head tilting to the side. “May we have pancakes?”

Sometimes, you feel bad for your daughter, having a teacher for a mother. You’re always going to be on her about anything academic related, especially English. “We certainly can.” Yawning, you sit up in bed and scratch your scalp through your bonnet. “But first, hygiene.”

Swooping her into your arms, you’re met with a chorus of giggles as you tickle her stomach with your index finger. Walking into the bathroom, you sit her on the counter and reach her her toothbrush, putting on her (Halle Bailey) Little Mermaid themed toothpaste before letting her do her thing as you do hers.

This is the first time in a while that you’re grateful for your daughter waking you up so early on a weekend. Those dreams….you’d be lying if you said they didn’t happen more than you’d like to admit. You’d tried to figure out what triggered them but have yet to be successful.

The simplest answer would be that you miss him. You miss Joe, but that’s also the answer you refuse to admit. You can’t miss him. Don’t have the right to miss someone else’s man, someone else’s husband.

All you can do is be appreciative that one of the biggest regrets in your life brought you your biggest blessing.

Calista, Callie, to almost everyone she knows, was a complete and utter surprise.

It was time for your women’s wellness exam, and in the set of questions they asked you, one was of course the date of your last menstrual cycle. Being stumped for a second was normal, hence why you used your beloved Flo app to track your cycle. But, it’s when you opened the app and realized you hadn’t logged a period in two months, you knew.

Didn’t need a blood test to tell you the obvious.

You were most definitely pregnant.

You’d used Flo consistently since you were 14 years old, there was no way in hell you’d forgotten for two whole months to input the period dates.

So, after crying and damn near having a panic attack, your doctor provided you with pamphlets. Options, as they were called. You wouldn’t review them until a couple days later, needing that time to process that you were actually pregnant. Pregnant by a married man that you’d ended things with, ironically, on the night your daughter was conceived.

What in the actual fuck were you supposed to do? Send him a text and say ‘nvm. Congrats, we’re expecting. Are you gonna tell your wife or should I?’ To this day, you’re convinced that the nasty wave of ‘morning sickness’ you experienced the first few weeks of finding out you were with child was actually just your absolute disgust that you’d allowed another woman’s husband to impregnate you.

It was like you were walking in the same footsteps your mother molded for you. Something you swore you’d die before letting happen.

What’s that saying? We make plans, and God laughs. Well, he must be having a field day with you.

It was actually in confiding in Mariah, your best friend since kindergarten, that you were able to look past your shame and panic to see this for what it is.

“You want to have kids, don’t you?” She asked in an obvious tone, picking through the big bowl of popcorn you two shared while Insecure played at a low volume on your TV. “Well, here’s the kid.”

“I wanted to have kids with a husband, Mariah.”

“Well—“

“Shut up.” You tossed a few pieces of popcorn in her direction. This was not the time for her occasional joke. You were too busy having a mental breakdown.

“Does it really matter how the baby got here? Aren’t you the one always saying kids are a blessing? Why are you trying to block yours?” It’s a fair, valid point that you’re too stubborn to want to hear, even if it’s what you needed to hear. “I’m just saying if you’ve been blessed with being a mom, something you’ve always wanted. Seems kinda silly we’re having this discussion instead of baby names, baby showers, and gender reveals.”

“I’m not doing a gender reveal.” That much you are absolutely sure of. Never. But, Mariah’s words do resonate with you. Why were you so caught up on how you got pregnant? Yeah, it was fucked up, but dwelling on it did nothing but make you feel worse. You always imagined this would be a happy occasion, couldn’t you find it in you to be happy? Regardless of the father and that whole Tubi of a situation.

There was a life growing inside of you, no matter the dynamics of the creation, the child had done nothing wrong, didn’t deserve to be blamed. And the truth was you weren’t really that upset, you were more happy than anything, if you really allowed yourself to feel without reservation. Borderline excited, even. Maybe even at the fact that you would always have a small piece of him with you in a really big way.

Even if he wouldn’t be a part of that experience.

And it was then that you decided. You didn’t care what anyone thought, couldn’t think about how your mother, who was completely unaware about your relationship with Joe for the entire three years, would react. You’d figure out the rest of this later because you were having this baby, but you were having this baby by yourself. Joe couldn’t know.

He wouldn’t know.

And almost five years later, nothing has changed. Yes, you absolutely couldn’t see yourself making it through your pregnancy and even the first few weeks postpartum without the help of your mom and Mariah. But, for the most part, you did everything you could by yourself for your daughter, wanting her to see the strength and perseverance of a strong, single mother.

She finishes brushing before you and spits out the remnant toothpaste in her mouth. “Are we gonna see grandma today?”

You finish a few seconds after, spitting and wiping your mouth before answering. “We certainly are.”

“Yay!” She celebrates as you bring the towel to her face, giving it a gentle cleanse before tossing it into the hamper. Callie wastes no time in removing her bonnet and giving her curls a good shake. The two of you share a laugh as you follow suit.

“Pancake time?”

Separating some of her coils, you answer with a wink. “Let mommy wash her face, and I’ll be right out, kiddo.”

“Okay.” Nodding, she jumps off the counter and hurries into the kitchen knowing good and well what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“Sis, what have I told you about jumping off this damn counter?” All you hear is giggling in the wake of her dash. This child has daredevil tendencies that bring out a certain, uncomfortable level of anxiety. Medical bills weren’t in the budget, so you needed her to calm the hell down.

She probably gets it from–

Shaking your head from unnecessary thoughts, you quickly work your way through your routine and eventually meet her in the kitchen to find her on her tablet, probably trying to figure out what movie to put on while you two cook. On the weekends, you remove the passcode from her device but still maintain the time limits for her overall screen time.

You refuse to allow her to become an “ipad kid.”

“What’cha pick for us?” Moving through the kitchen, you pull out the necessary items and place them on the small island.

Climbing onto the barstool, she flips the screen with a proud smile. “Moana!”

Gasping with faux surprise, you ask, “again?”

Much like her mother who was like her mother, an affinity and passion for all things Disney is another thing your child inherited. She could watch Disney movies for the rest of life and never get bored. And Moana was at the top of that list, the new Little Mermaid was a close favorite, but Moana resonated deeply with Callie for reasons you still don’t fully understand.

Well, she is half Pacific Islan—

Clearing your throat, you and Callie get to work on breakfast, both singing along and dancing to the catchy Disney music. It’s a sweet bonding moment between the two of you, a bit of a tradition on the weekends. You’re not much of a cook, at all, but breakfast food is relatively simple. And thankfully, your child is not as picky as some other kids. A stack of pancakes with sausage is always enough to satisfy her.

It’s when you’re both sitting in the living room, on the floor, legs crossed while you eat the delicious breakfast that you’d prepared together that a thought crosses your mind.

A distraction could be beneficial, the dream from earlier still floating around in the back of your head. And not even the dream in as much as the main event from the theme.

You needed some dick. It’d been too long, that itch needing a scratch to give you some much needed reset.

So, it’s when Callie is focused on the scene in Moana when Maui’s hook is broken that you grab your phone and shoot off a text.

You free today?

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Just tell me when and where.

________

Walking through the doors of your mother’s hair salon is always an experience, nostalgic almost, to all the times you and your friends would hang out there with the hopes that you could get free or discounted services. Usually free for you, not so much for your friends.

Business was still business.

The familiar smell of hair oils, deep conditioner, and the overall sound of flat irons sizzling through hair brings a warm smile to your face. It’s things like this, this place even, that remind you why you decided to come home after college.

Home, where the closest major stores like Target and Walmart, and even the airport, are nearly half an hour away. Where you have only one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. Where many of the streets are two laned and littered with storefronts, like your mom’s salon. Hell, the freaking bank, post office, and city hall are in the same building.

Everyone knows everyone, and for the most part, everyone looks out for each other.

It isn’t for everybody, this almost Hallmark movie type setup. You know this. Hence why many leave for school and never or seldom return. But, for you, it’s home.

It’s also the perfect place to discreetly and raise the daughter of a celebrity.

“Grandma!”

Your mom is in the middle of a conversation with a patron but almost immediately redirects her attention to the equally familiar voice of Calista. “There’s my grandbaby!” Callie runs into your mom’s arms and is peppered with kisses all over. “Looking more and more like your mama every day.”

That genuinely makes you smile. You tend to think she favors Joe more than yourself, usually when she’s making certain facial expressions. She has a lot of his mannerisms, which you are grateful for, happy that she has characteristics from both sides. But any and all of the good things she can take from you, you want her to have.

Callie’s smile is bright and infectious, as always. “That’s cause mommy’s my mommy!”

You laugh, approaching them and leaning in for your mom’s one armed hug as she has Callie in her other arm. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, baby.”

Your relationship with your mom has definitely been up and down over the years, which you’d like to think is the standard for most mother-daughters. It’s something that’s arguably strengthened over time, especially post Callie. You’d gained so much more appreciation for your mother raising you on her own as a single parent. There was always appreciation, but infinitely more now as you were also in the same position.

“I was hoping she could hang out with you for a little bit today. I have some business to take care of. If that’s okay?”

Your mother gives you the look, the look that indicates she knows there’s more to what you’re saying but she won’t push out of respect for your privacy. And you’re grateful for that. You don’t necessarily want to explain that you need her to keep an eye out on Callie while you attend your dick appointment.

Sucking her teeth, she starts walking to the back where her office is located. “When have I ever had an issue spending time with my only grandchild?” She has you there. Your mom would take Callie every day if you let her, and you’re so thankful for that. Not even for the tremendous assistance your mom provides but for the close relationship she has with Callie, similar to how close you were with your grandma. “Want me to do her wash day for her while she’s here?”

At that, Callie’s eyes go wide as she starts to whine, “noooo. I don’t want to.”

You chuckle. “That’s how mommy feels too, babes.” You dreaded her wash day as much as you dreaded your own. The women in your family were blessed with long, thick, healthy curls that Callie clearly inherited from you but also her father’s side cause the girl had some hair. “If you don’t mind, mama.”

She waves off your unnecessary added comment and starts to assess the state of Callie’s hair, murmuring comments to herself.

You lean down in front of Callie and move your hand to her knee. “You sure you’re gonna be okay, sweetie?”

She nods and asks, “can we get ice cream when you come back?”

“We surely can.” You don’t allow her to have a lot of sweets—she already has enough energy as it is—but every so often, you two get the homemade ice cream cones at the local parlor. Sometimes you’ll sit outside and just talk, sharing laughs and inside jokes over the best ice cream anyone could ever have. And considering she’s about to endure a wash day, she deserves it. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

Putting her tablet on her lap, she leans over and hugs you tight. For such a tiny human, she always gives the best, most loving hugs. “I love you too, mama.”

Callie goes back to her tablet, and you issue your mom one more statement of appreciation before heading out so you can have your urge squashed and get back in time to have dessert with your little girl.

On the car ride there, you send up a quick prayer that this time will be different, that you can get what you need and be gone without being asked to stay. It’s always the same answer, so maybe the last one finally stuck to where he won’t hope.

Won’t get his own feelings hurt.

________

“You know you don’t always have to leave right away.”

Of course.....of course.

You’re in the midst of hooking your bra back on when he hits you with the offer you were stupidly hoping he’d pass on this time around.

Bold of you to assume you could come get some dick without this man trying to turn it into a cuddle session.

Your smile is tight as you politely decline. “I don’t want to leave Callie at the salon too long. You never know what she’s hearing.”

It’s a weak excuse, hence him poking a hole right through it. “You know your mom would shut that down right away. Get back in the bed.”

“Really, Amir, I can’t stay.” Once your bra is on, you reach on the ground for your panties, sliding them back on as well. The sooner you get yourself decent, the sooner you can dip.

“Can’t or won’t?”

And here it goes. Sometimes, you wonder why you continue to put yourself in this situation. Amir’s stroke game is nice, but is it really worth this constant routine? You two fuck, he tries to make it more, an argument, silence on both ends for a little while until one of you needs that urge handled. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It’s been roughly the same since you were in high school.

Amir was your first damn near everything: first crush, first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. It was a textbook small town romance. He was the quarterback, and you were the cheerleading captain. Everyone said you were perfect together and predicted at one point you’d get married after college. Truthfully, you once thought the same. But outside of aesthetics, your relationship was always rocky, borderline toxic.

He had poor boundaries with other girls but never saw an issue because it never went beyond flirting. And because you were young, dumb, and just as toxic sometimes, you’d intentionally flirt with other guys to piss him off, knowing it was wrong to drag innocents into your Bobby and Whitney of a relationship but more interested in making him see your side of it..

Still, young and dumb. Not an excuse, but definitely a reason.

Even as you both went off to college, each attending separate schools, you’d occasionally hookup during the winter breaks. More often during the summer. He was your constant, preferred over allowing random dick into you, especially as he was most familiar and you knew he was clean. The devil you know type of thing.

Post college was when you really ended it, deciding that it was time to put the childish things behind you, time to put him behind you.

And you’d done relatively well for a while, the two of you becoming damn near strangers. Especially when Joe came into the picture. Amir was good in bed, but Joe was heavenly. Just the thought of anyone other than him fucking you at that time was repulsing.

But, Joe is gone, has been, so now you’re stuck returning to the same nigga you just can’t seem to get rid of because he has a decent sized dick he, mostly, knows how to use.

And your rose can only go so far.

“Fine. Won’t. Don’t. Not interested.” Standing up, you shoot him a look of challenge, of defiance. “Better?”

Your words understandably tick him off as he cruelly asks, “How long are you gonna let yourself be stuck on him? That nigga abandoned you and his kid, what is there to even be stuck on?”

Regardless of what happened between you and Joe, mostly with how it played out, you refuse to allow anyone to speak badly of him. Specifically when it pertains to his absence in your and Callie’s lives, especially since that was 100% your call. Only a select few know the full story, therefore the majority have no right to speak on it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so please just shut the fuck up.”

“Where is he then, huh? It’s been almost 5 years, Y/N. You need to move the fuck on. He’s your past.” Moving out of the bed, he comes up to you and places one hand to your face. You fight the desire to pull away. His touch is suddenly uncomfortable, feels wrong and noisome. “It’s time to focus on your future.”

Not that you’d ever admit it to Amir, but there’s a hint of truth to his voice. Eventually, random hookups to fulfill your sexual needs will become insufficient. Hell, even now, you still desire to be married, to give Callie that 'traditional' family. The problem is mostly lack of options, even if Amir seems convinced you two should give it another try.

When hell freezes over.

Your voice is even and to the point as you finish dressing and pull out your key fob. “Like I said, thanks for the scratch, but that’s all this is.” Without giving him time to talk more shit, you head out the door without another fucking word.

________

“Oh shit, is that ole girl Randy used to mess with?” Joe is only halfheartedly listening to what his cousin is saying, mostly focused on the work email he’s reading on his phone. It’s far and few in between they actually have time off, let alone enough time to go home and be among the rest of family. He’s trying to enjoy it and is enjoying it, but work is always on his mind, hence his inability to ignore the email notification that slid in mid-group conversation. “What was her name?”

“It started with an M, didn’t it?” Jey suggests. “Mariah, I think.”

It's when the correct name is stated that Joe’s attention is briefly redirected. Mariah was your friend, the reason he was ever introduced to you. It’s a name he hasn’t heard in years. If only that was the same amount of time it’s been since he thought of you. No, instead, you’ve taken up real estate in his mind more than he’d ever like to admit or acknowledge.

“Wait, isn’t that—-” Jimmy is silenced, and out of the corner of Joe’s eye, he can see it’s because Jey gave him a look. That look you give someone when you want them to shut up.

Now…now they have his attention.

“What?” It’s when the twins share a look with each other, Jey shaking his head that Joe puts his phone to the side as Jimmy hits the lock button on his phone. “Let me see.”

“Look, Uce—”

“I said, let me see.” One thing Joe can’t stand more than anything is when people beat around the bush or try to hide things from him. He prefers people to be upfront and honest, damn whatever feelings come up. The truth is always better, in his mind.

And yet……

Shaking his head, Jimmy blows out a breath and hands his cousin the phone.

Joe looks down and instantly regrets ever pushing the matter.

Five years.

It’s been almost five fucking years since he’s seen that beautiful smile, those deep dimples that were one of the first things he noticed about you, outside of your breathtaking beauty. You looked almost exactly the same, maybe a bit heavier, still in all of the right places. Hair a little longer but still the same deep onyx with streaks of purple. You’re smiling and posing with Mariah who also hasn’t changed much outside of a new hair color and the huge baby bump she’s sporting. A baby shower, he’d guess.

But outside the shock of seeing you, Joe’s attention is also on the third person in the photo. A child, young in age, no more than 4 or 5, black, curly hair styled in two space-buns and a deep dimpled smile that’s almost identical to yours. Her eyes are a beautiful light brown shade, a contrast to your chocolate colored eyes.

But similar to….similiar to his.

Brows furrowed, Joe is surprised to see you’re tagged in the photo, so he goes to your profile and is even more shocked to find it public. You were always such a private person, but he chalks it up to the fact that the only people who’d really know how to find it would have to be those close to you.

You don’t have a ton of pictures, but he clicks on the first one that has a set of photos of you and the same little girl from the baby shower. It’s dated almost six months ago, so not the newest but better than nothing. The post is a slideshow, so he begins to scroll through the photos, each of them with you and that same child, clearly at various points in her life. The last one stops him for a moment, a photo of you, crying, in a hospital bed holding a newborn baby.

Swallowing back his emotions, Joe redirects his gaze to the caption:

my calista, my callie, my baby girl. God used one of the hardest periods of my life to bless me with the best gift anyone can receive. every day with you is an adventure. from your incessant questions about the most random of things, constant requests for disney movie marathons, to the way you refuse to part from me without giving the biggest hug and kiss goodbye while yelling ‘i love you, mommy!’. callie, you are my whole heart, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, sweet girl. here’s to year 4 and many many more of having the biggest honor and privilege ever of being your mama bear.

So many things are going through his head right now.

You had a child.

You have a child.

Based upon the date of the post, you have a child who will be five years old in a couple of months.

A child who has your smile, but his eyes, his nose, and a complexion that looks the perfect combination of the two of you. She looks like the perfect combination of the two of you.

It’s hard to not jump to the obviously glaring conclusion that all of this brings, and still, he tries to not allow his head to go there. You would….you would never do that. You would never keep his child from him, no matter how things ended between the two of you. There was wrongness to that that reached low levels of depravity, and he just couldn’t conjoin that kind of deception with who he always knew you to be.

You were a woman who believed and tried to live by her morals. It was the reason you eventually cut him out of your life. Nothing about not telling him he has a child is moral.

He wordlessly hands the phone back to Jimmy and goes back to reading the email, acting like nothing just happened and he doesn't have a million and one thoughts running through the back of his mind.

It’s after he walks away, giving off an excuse that he needs to call Hunter to discuss a proposed promo that the conversation commences.

“So, we all just gon act like that lil' girl don’t look like Uce? She even got his eyes, man,” Jimmy, being Jimmy, is the first to say it aloud, the only one to actually verbalize what the others are thinking.

“Jimmy,” Naomi chides but can’t help adding. “Do you really think that could be his kid?”

Jey decides to join in on the conversation. “It’s possible. They messed around for years.”

“But would she really do that? Have his baby and not even tell him about her?” Naomi only met you a handful of times, but all of the interactions were pleasant, and she secretly thought you and Joe would have made a cute couple if the stars were aligned differently. “She had to have told him.”

Jimmy gestures to the sliding door Joe walked through minutes earlier. “Does that look like he knew?”

“This is all just speculation.” Joseph decides to join the conversation, always the one who prefers to listen to all sides before adding his two cents. “Similiar facial features don’t mean they’re related.”

“No, but add in the timeline plus the way it ended, and you can’t help but lean one way.”

“What did happen between them?” Somewhat newer to this circle, Joseph realizes that’s a topic he’s never really heard much about. He knows his cousin basically has an open marriage and sleeps around, but he’s always heard whispers there was a woman he was with for years.

“She just ended it one day.” Jey answers with a shrug. “Uce really ain't say much outside of that. It was sudden though.”

“But was it? Three years of waiting around for a guy to maybe or maybe not leave his wife for you?” Naomi serves as a counter, shaking her head and leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand. “Sounds like more than enough time to me.”

“It wasn’t nothing like that though. They was just messing around,” Jimmy defends.

“He cut off every other woman he was messing with when they were together.” Jey distinctly remembers how his cousin had one woman and only one woman on speed dial during that period, and it was you. It was always you. “I think it was more than just messing around.”

Joseph nods, taking in all this information. “So, if she is his, do you think she kept her a secret to get back at him for not divorcing Jadah?” It’s a bold question, but a valid one that Jey is the first to dispute.

“Naw, I’m with Naomi. Y/N wouldn’t do that.”

Jimmy shakes his head, starting to see how this is all looking to play out. “Well, if that is Joe’s daughter and that’s how he found out he has a child….this shit is about to get real ugly.”

________

Joe tried to tell himself it was just a wild coincidence. Reminded himself that you yourself said you wanted to get married, have kids. And you’d done that, had a kid. However, revisiting your Instagram pictures, in none of your posts did he see a man.

Or a wedding ring.

And just how fucking quickly could you have moved on? Doing the math, you would have had to have someone on speed dial to get pregnant as fast as you did. And that doesn’t line up with who he knew you to be. You were fucking him and only him.

You were with him and only him.

So that left him and only him.

And like a man hyperfixated on trying to solve a puzzle, he looks at every single post on your Instagram, starting from the year you met up until now. He focuses especially on the posts that include your daughter, not that many, but enough.

And when it’s all said and done, thoughts vs counterthoughts, logic vs emotion, Joe is 100% convinced that this is his child.

That he’s just now found out he’s a father through fucking Instagram.

And now he’s pissed because who the hell were you to keep his child from him? He didn’t give a fuck how you felt about him and his being married, that didn’t give you an excuse to hide a whole kid?

His kid.

________

“Ready for your bedtime story, Callie Bear?”

Reading with Callie has been a must since you found out you were pregnant. Your mom always told you how she read to you in the womb and to this day believes it’s why you always tested out so high with your reading abilities, even in the first grade. You’re not sure how accurate it is, having read some studies and whatnot, but you’ve followed suit, reading to Callie even when she was in your belly. Almost five years later, it’s now a tradition. She can’t go to sleep without a story.

She nods happily. You laugh and slide into the bed next to her. Naturally, she cuddles close to you, book already picked out and waiting on the bed. It’s one she’s heard a dozen times before but one of her favorites, so you read it just as theatrically, voice changes, and everything. Her giggles of happiness and merriment warm your heart. You love these one-on-one moments, wishing you could jar them and keep them stored away forever.

You’re a couple chapters in when she starts to yawn, eyes struggling to stay open, that you slide in the bookmark and promise to pick it up again tomorrow. You know Callie is ready to call it a night when she doesn’t protest.

But, it’s after placing the book on the shelf and going to tuck her into her covers that she hits you with a question that nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”

You’re not stupid, far from it. This question was bound to come up, sooner or later. For your own selfish sake though, you were hopeful for later, much much later.

She continues, almost nervous in tone. “Ms. Leah said you need a mommy and a daddy to make a baby, so where’s my daddy?”

Curious how the conversation of where babies came from came about, you make a mental note to discuss this with your daughter’s preschool teacher before working to answer her valid question. Truth be told, you have no idea how to answer it. But if anxiety was the dominant emotion before, sadness and devastation easily topple that at the next thing to come out of her mouth.

“Does he not love me?”

It’s not until that moment that you truly know what it feels like for your heart to shatter into absolute pieces.

“Oh, baby….” Crouching down beside her bed, you move your hand to her forehead, thumb gently caressing her soft skin. You’re so damn lost on how to handle this, what to say to take away her obvious pain, that you go with the soonest thing that hits the forefront of your brain. “Your daddy…..he….he wasn’t ready to be a daddy.”

It could be the truth, it could be a lie. You never gave yourself—or him—the chance to find out, and up until this point, you never saw an issue with that. But now….now you’re wondering just who you made that decision for.

And if it was the right one.

Callie’s frown deepens, the answer clearly not one that makes her feel any better. “What if I’m a really good girl? Will he be ready then?”

The shattered pieces are now dust, granulated dust that you struggle to hold together in trembling palms. You bring both hands to her face. “Calista, you listen to me. You are the kindest, sweetest, most amazing little girl in the whole wide world. You don’t need to do anything to be a good girl because you are already a good girl, the best girl.”

Her eyes glaze over as she sniffles and asks in a small voice. “So why doesn’t he want me?”

“Oh, sweetie…” You pull her into a hug, holding her close and tight, as if doing so will allow her to absorb all of the love and adoration you have for this tiny human who made your life have meaning. “I’m gonna talk to him, okay? I’ll….I’ll talk to him.” That’s all you can say, even if it’s not a guarantee, even if you have no idea where such an offer came from. And you hate yourself for doing that, for getting her hopes up over something that may not even happen. You haven’t spoken to Joe in almost five years, there’s no guarantee the number is even still the same.

Still, you know you have to at least try, especially when you pull back and see the renewed hope in her teary eyes, the eyes she shares with the father she’s clearly desperate to know about, to meet, to have.

You close your eyes and press your forehead against hers, speaking with all the love and affirmation in the world, “I love you, Calista. Always, baby.”

You’re relieved to hear her reply in a less saddened and more hopeful tone, “I love you too, mommy.”

It’s after you’re certain Callie is knocked out and you’ve exhausted every single step of your nighttime routine that you pace around your room, partially trying to avoid an action you know you need to take.

Especially when you find his number in your phone from an old text thread you could never find it in you to delete.

You go back and forth for nearly twenty minutes before deciding on a simple question.

is this still joe’s number?

You feel like a damn child, throwing the phone down on the bed and burying your face into your hands. This is so much more difficult than it needs to be, or maybe it isn’t. You made the executive decision to not make Joe aware of your pregnancy for a variety of reasons that felt solid at the time.

Now…now you don’t know any fucking thing anymore, it seems.

What you do know is that you nearly jump off the bed when your phone begins to ring. Frowning, you look at the time, wondering who in the hell could be calling you at damn near midnight.

But, it’s when you lift your phone to see the caller you know exactly why someone is calling you at damn near midnight.

Ignoring it is so tempting, but the image of Callie in tears wondering why she’s not loved or wanted is more than enough to trample your selfish desires. Sliding the green button upward, you place the phone against your ear, take a deep breath, and speak, “hi.”

He exhales, your name leaving his mouth for the first time in years. Hearing his voice, let alone hearing him say your name, creates a heaviness you weren’t expecting. Then again, you weren’t expecting to speak to him at all tonight.

Or ever, for that matter.

Communication is suddenly incredibly difficult as you struggle to string words together to create a cohesive statement. “I’m….I’m sorry for calling so late, but—”

“We need to talk.” While your tone is soft and nervous, his is serious and borderline stoic. It takes you for a bit of a loop, but you try not to put too much into it. The real focus should be why he interrupted you so harshly with such a bold statement. He’s not wrong, but why does he think you need to talk? “I’ll get a flight out tomorrow.”

That breaks you from your thoughts. A what? “wait—”

“You still at the same place?”

Swallowing, still very much confused, you answer, “yes, but—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

The phone goes silent on the other end, and you realize it’s because he’s ended the call. You must stare at that phone for a good five minutes in complete utter shock. Eventually, coming out of the catatonia, only one thought circulates around your mind.

What in the actual fuck just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #black writers #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing in the Dark

(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 4)

—

Time written- 5:33 a.m

Titans! Jason Todd/fem!reader fluff/smut

(Tags: Kissing, sort of fingering/dry humping🔞✌️)

—

Jason had woken up with a dead phone around ten in the morning: a small price to pay for talking with his most favorite girl.

A childish giddiness riddled his mind as he put his phone to charge, anxious to call you or see your name pop up with your usual morning text.

However, to his surprise, he was met with a blank screen. No call, no text. For a solid five minutes, he stared up with exhausted eyes at his call history, seeing your name above how long the call lasted.

Three hours, thirty-three minutes, and thirty-five seconds.

A dreadful sinking began in his stomach, a tortuously hot guilt deep in his core. Did he go too far? Did he push you away? This was too soon - No.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, but he pushed it. He just had to push it. Now you’re never gonna talk to him again, are you?

He carried this guilt throughout the dreadfully slow hours of the day. A heavy stir of anxiousness weighed down on his shoulders the longer he went without a call or text from you. He wanted to reach out so damn bad, wanting to call to see if you were okay, then apologize about a hundred thousand times.

He loved talking with you, feeling it as an escape from his troubles of being himself; an outcast in his own supposed home.

He spent a good hour of avoiding his thoughts and emotions by training by himself, beating against his targets and training mannequins until his protected knuckles nearly bruised.

He wasn’t supposed to like you, but you reached out first, saving him an endless amount of self hatred and doubt on his behalf, fueling it up with precarious amounts of happiness.

Now he feels like he made things a whole lot worse by ruining this one special, quite unique friendship he had, pushing past boundaries that weren’t meant to be crossed.

Unless, that’s what you wanted to happen, too.

He had to admit, he was a hypocrite for accusing you of getting off on him last night. He couldn’t help that he found the computer geek attractive when you both first met. Regardless of your indifference towards each other at the time.

He’s spent plenty of late nights and long showers on days he was feeling untroubled enough to think of you, even more so than he was willing to ever admit after getting closer to you.

Time seemed to make his worries grow even worse, especially after a hot shower from his rigorous session. He peeks over at his phone, shoulders nearly coming to a slump at his lack of notifications from you.

A knock comes at his door, breaking the tense chain. Soft taps from none other than your delicate hands.

You stood on the other side after he opens it, looking ever so lovely with an embarrassed glow on your cheeks.

All tension seemed to slip off his shoulders upon seeing you, making a smile grow on Jason’s face. All his worries about your well being, fear of avoidance, and being ghosted dissipated like an ice cube dropped into hot water.

“Hey mama,” he softly greets, attempting to keep his composure.

“Hey.” Your soft tone riddled with enough nervousness and hesitation makes Jason’s guilt slowly return, bubbling dangerously at the bottom of his stomach.

“You busy?” You ask, making him quickly shake his head before further opening his door, silently inviting you into his semi-tidy room.

A pregnant silence surrounded the both of you as you remained standing where you were, glancing around as if to intentionally avoid looking him in the eye.

Jason exhales after a long moment, knowing he needed to break this ice the longer he stared at you. He started it, he had to own up to it.

“Hey, about last night—“

“Yeah,” you softly say to yourself. “Last night.”

“Right,” he nods, swallowing slowly as he maintains his distance, brushing his sweaty hands over his pockets. “Look … I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for it to go that far. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

You stare up at him with doe eyes, a faint aura of surprise coursing through your mind. Jason immediately owned up to his mistake, even if it didn’t exactly feel like one, though it was to be debated. He was taking ownership of it, something you’ve heard the others complain that he didn’t do.

Again, yet another thing the Titans got wrong about Jason Todd.

“I have a question, actually.” You gather the strength to speak up, to Jason’s surprise. Weren’t you going to… walk out on him? Yell at him? He’d stand still so you could hit him with something solid.

Maybe you were, after you understood more of the situation first.

“Sure, what?”

“So, what… what exactly brought it on?”

A short smile involuntarily creeps up on Jason’s face, followed by a measly shrug. He licks his lips before glancing towards the ground, pondering that very thought for a good moment or two.

“I don’t know what to say about it.” Jason goes on to say, smiling a little more towards the ground. “You’re funny, an’ smart. Hella hot, too.”

He goes quiet again, shrugging once more before raising his head. “You’ve put up with me. More than anyone else here bothers to do. So… yeah.”

It just happened. He wanted to finish his sentence by saying, but you understood. Your cheeks blooming from the sentimental compliments.

“So, those roses,” you nervously proceed. “Those weren’t just ‘thank you roses’, were they?”

Jason amusingly scoffs when you mention the flowers, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No. No, they weren’t.”

Again, Jason still wonders if he went too fast. Part of him wanted to take it all back, break the clock to turn back the arms. It was impossible now, and judging from the looks of you here, especially with your choice of meeting him in his room, he had somewhat good reason to believe that you were somewhat okay with it.

“We can still be friends,” Jason suggests, taking a casual step closer. “Maybe.. a lot closer than the usual stereotype.”

“Closer?” You question, watching him do so.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I don’t see a problem with it. As long as you don’t either.”

It would be very, very foolish of you to believe you could avoid Jason by any means after what happened between you both.

Your cheeks flushed from the night before; all the words he said, the things you’ve done in his awareness over the phone. It was incredible on a hardcore crushing girl’s stand point, but absolutely horrible on your friendship record.

You were both friends, supposed to be friends. The reminder of your bond made your hands tremble, but the recollection of what occurred made your core flush with warmth.

Jason slightly clears his throat before lightly scratching the side of his temple, taking his chance to fill the silence with some desperately required humor. “Y’know, I assumed you’d have had me on my ass right about now.”

“I mean, I totally would’ve,” you sarcastically boast, crossing your arms. “Don’t get me wrong. I just wanted to put all these pieces together first, see if what had happened… if it meant something.”

“It won’t mean anything if you don’t see it like that.” He pitches, his gaze unable to tear away from your rosy cheeks.

God, you’re so pretty. So cute, and quite brave to put yourself in this position.

“Did it mean something to you, mama?” Jason questions before cautiously stepping past your personal bubble, slimming the distance between you both. “You can tell me, I won’t get mad.”

Apprehension steals your nerves, making your throat run dry. You couldn’t help but crave the Jason you talked to over the phone, murmuring such filthy words into your ear through a screen. Things you’ve never considered him saying before, wanting him just as much as you wanted your friend.

Again, another border presented itself to you. This time, with a door behind held open in the center, beckoning you to walk through it.

You’re cute when you’re figuring out what to say. Jason’s smile subtly grew, his eyes scanning every adorable feature of your face.

“It meant a lot,” you finally admit, making him nod slowly after some thought.

“Good,” Jason murmurs, his nose merely inches away from yours, eyes repeatedly flickering down towards your lips with a slow, attractive desire.

His hands ever so carefully caress your sides, giving enough room and chance to slap them away if you needed to. You didn’t want to.

“That’s good, babe.”

His lips slowly settle along yours before you know it, melding against your own with a patient pause, silently pleading for you to accept. You gladly did so, remembering your use of hands as you guide them up to cradle his shoulders.

- -

You both still continued on with this friendship, even if that label was practically meaningless now, quickly washing away with water.

The late night calls and endlessly amusing texts continued, now with the addition of some particularly interesting additions. Full on flirts, pet names, nothing past what you weren’t comfortable with.

Jason kissed you plenty of more times since then, all of which were in precariously different scenarios, randomly falling along the scale of surprise.

During your chances of downtime in private during television commercials, Jason built a habit of catching you off guard via tickling your vulnerable spots, playing into your laughing spell before leaning close, sealing your giggles with a short kiss.

You had to admit to yourself, you often indulged in playing into his interests just for the sole fact of adoring his attention. Which resulted in his boldness shining through in ways you weren’t expecting.

Or, when he simply felt like it.

Most of the time, he just felt like it.

Riskier moments involved him noticing you ‘absentmindedly’ applying lip oil after a few occasional sips of water during your work on the Batcomputer.

You’d catch his gaze from the corner of your eye before giving him an innocent smile, lips glistening with a rosy tint before focusing back towards the screen.

During your work, he’d break your concentration by squeezing along your shoulders. Warm lips graze along your ear, encouraging you to take a break and go on a walk with him, to clear both your heads.

“Jason - Oh my god.” A breathless giggle leaves your lips as your back meets a chilly surface, combating his warm upper torso pressed against your front. A quiet, gloomy, secluded corner in the tower, just shy out of any camera range.

What can he say? He liked the risk, the excitement of sneaking off to steal a few kisses from his favorite girl. Regardless of what you were supposed to be doing.

“Jay, I mean it,” you exhale, your fingers grasping along the back of his hoodie while his lips tease along your soft neck, inhaling your sweet perfume.

“Dick needs me to—“

“Fuck Dick,” he mutters out with venom in his tone, the tightening clutch of his hands on your hips giving a hard squeeze. “Don’t care ‘bout what he wants. You’re mine right now.”

You’ve never seen him so giddy with attraction before. His smiles growing broader, a pleasant flush of color on the apples of his high cheeks. All he had on his mind was you, his pleasant little distraction from his dreadful hours of therapy every week.

Sometimes, that wouldn’t always be the case.

- -

“Babe.” His quivering exhale over the phone worried you to the very bone one night as you tidied up your apartment, getting a semi-unexpected call from Jason in the midst of a late storm.

He wouldn’t say what was going on, too distressed to comprehend anything over the phone, hiding his painfully obvious sobs on his end. Your aching heart couldn’t handle it, encouraging him to come to your apartment, insisting on staying up to meet him at the front door.

After twenty-five minutes, Jason could barely get a hold on hitting his third knock on the door before it pulled out of reach, your warm arms instantly enveloping his rain soaked body at your doorstep.

He clung to you instantly, sniffling nose breathing in the scent of clean, cozy vanilla and fresh laundry. The scents he associated with comfort, with safety.

“I just needed to get away from it all,” his muffled whimper catches along your shoulder, his voice broken and defeated in a way you rarely hear him.

It takes a while for Jason to calm down, but for him, you’d give him all the time he needed. The two of you sit on the ground, backs settled against the couch with mugs of hot drinks in hand, a comfortable silence bathing both your minds as the rain relentlessly batters along your windows.

Bruce, Dick, Hank, the rest of the Titans. His past even, coming back to haunt him in the worst ways. The reasons varied, but he didn’t voice them. You didn’t need him to voice them, you only needed to understand.

His phone rings, slicing through his settling anxieties until he peeked at the caller ID. He hands you his phone, his gaze pleading with you to answer Gar’s concerned phone call, in which you gladly did so. You soothe both your friend’s worries, telling him that Jason was alright, which was the biggest concern on Gar’s mind.

“I don’t feel comfortable going back,” Jason admits after you hang up, his eyes too focused on the liquid in his coffee cup. “Not now. Not for a while, I think.”

You express your agreement by settling your hand along the back of his palm, giving a gentle squeeze.

“That’s okay,” you reply, watching his gaze linger over towards your hand. “It’s gonna be okay, Jason. You don’t have to go back, not right now.”

He stares on quietly, his head nodding in thanks while pondering over various ideas. Your head turns over your shoulder to peer at the couch. No, not the couch. Not for him.

“Y’know, My bed has two pillows.” You proceed to say, attempting to wind up some awful humor to get the tiniest response of amusement out of him.

Jason glanced at you with a puzzled expression, nearly making you stumble on your words.

“Two.” He repeats, still visibly riddled with confusion.

“Well, more like five,” you shrug after quickly sipping some of your tea, trying to save yourself from further embarrassment. “But one of them just might have your name on it.”

His lips slightly curls into a tired smile, accepting your offer within that very moment.

- -

It made the most logical sense to assume that after a hot shower, Jason didn’t intend to go straight to sleep with you in your bed.

He found you in mid process pulling back the blankets and adjusting pillows, bent over along hands and knees over your bed.

You failed to register Jason’s presence behind you after you slip off, turning around with a sudden gasp from the scare.

He smirks, quietly watching your eyes immediately gaze along his shirtless figure, down to where he had slid on some sweatpants.

There it was; those tiny embers of arousal in your eyes that formed when you returned his gaze. A flame whirring to life in your innocent little head, tainted with memories of words he’s told you in confidence, leaving you aching for more.

His towel dried hair clung to beads of water like gemstones, residual droplets rippling down his toned arms and chest.

The front of your sleep shirt grew damp with water when Jason clutches you close by your hips, his lips meeting yours without a second longer of wait.

The height difference, coupled with his physique looming over when he kissed you had you leaning back, your hands slowly bracing against the mattress before you suffer a clumsy fall.

Jason’s forearms braced along the spaces beside your head at first, shadowing over your body like a broad, protective layer once you laid down. A hand grasps along your hip, tips of his fingers lightly trailing along the seam of your shorts before grasping your thigh, raising it up along his side.

“Don’t worry,” he rasps along your ear, picking up on the nervous shudder in your breathing. “I’ll be easy. Just been dyin’ to taste you.”

Your hand quickly grasps hold of his, painfully tense fingers wanting to pry them away from your hip. He paused, his head looming over yours with a noticeably concerned expression.

Feeling guilty, you prepare to say it’s accidental, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his.

“Jason, I—“ You open your mouth to testify, but he gently shushes you.

“No - shit. It’s my bad,” he exhales. “You don’t feel ready. That’s okay, we don’t gotta do anything.”

Damn him for tainting your mind with such erotic promises all before. Your arousal proceeded to get the better of you, despite his consideration on your behalf.

“Is their anything we can do?” Your pleading eyes made him groan a curse out from under his breath. Damn him for his waning control.

He kisses you again, trying really hard to hide his growing smile. Right, you’re his little eager girl, mentally ruined by his never subtle advances.

“We can try something, if you up to it.” He proposes, gazing down on you with a warm, hungry glimmer in his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Something that doesn’t require taking clothes off, but you gotta trust me.”

Chaste kisses lead towards a passionately drawn out make out, bodies shifting in between the blankets. An arm settles around your torso, slow fingers cupping and squeezing your breasts through your shirt.

Your breathing settles from soothing words whispered against your ear, but nothing could settle your raging heart from the fingers that slipped underneath your shorts, teasing along your damp underwear before easing them aside.

Warm slick quickly coats his fingers, a pleased little hum leaving Jason’s throat shortly after.

“Almost feel a little sorry for you. Havin’ to use a toy to get yourself off, babe.” He mumbled between your little whimpers.

His middle finger lightly brushes over your swollen clit, making you wince. Smirking, he repeats the action a few more times, watching your hips slightly tense and jolt.

It was nothing like when you touched yourself, barely managing to stroke along your own clit for a few seconds before the sensitivity grew too much. Jason was relentless, leaving you completely at his mercy to touch you how he pleased.

His fingers pry your smooth, velvety lips open before dipping a finger inside, groaning lustfully against your neck as your virgin walls eagerly squeeze around his digit.

All you could do as his victim was whimper and take it, too embarrassed to beg for more, too shy to reach behind and take him in hand, urging him to fill you.

Jason's restraint on his own vocals grows thinner by the minute, his ragged groans vibrating along your skin as he listens to your eager little virgin hole cry out for something more, begging to be fucked and stretched to the limit. An unabashed excitement at seeing you fall apart from his doing alone was the perfect distraction, muddling his frustrations into dying whispers.

Seeing you as you are, sprawled along Jason's spread legs, hitching pitiful whimpers as he fucks a second finger into your sopping cunt had him seething with arousal. His cock painfully begging to be free from his sweats.

“I bet your tiny hands can’t reach like mine can, but I know my cock will,” he mumbled before kissing you. His thumb draws relentless circles on your little nub while fantasizing about what he’d do to your pussy.

You writhe in his lap, moaning freely against his lips as his fingers buck further into you. Your inconsistent grinding of your ass forced some much needed friction on his cock, angrily throbbing in his sweats.

“Y’think this little pussy is ready to take me yet?” he coos at you, as though his fingers aren’t digging into your cunt and rubbing along your heated walls, crooking them just right as his palm relentlessly stimulates your nub.

“D-Don’t say that,” you pitifully whine, your nails digging into the skin of his forearm.

“Shhh, just prepping you, babe. That’s all we’re doin’ tonight.”

Your hips twitching, your head pressing back against his shoulder.

Jason only chuckled at those pretty, teary lashes flutter when he thrusts his fingers faster, grunting along with your choked moan when your hips buck once more.

“Jason, fuck- oh my God. Please don’t stop.”

He felt himself aching during his slurred words, but he set himself aside. Right now, his main priority was his sweet little Princess getting exactly what she deserves.

“I’m not stoppin’, mama. Y’can count on that.”

#Jason Todd smut #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader smut #titans jason todd #jason todd x reader #titans dc #titans #jason todd #idk what I’m doing girl #it’s just happening #titans Jason Todd x reader #titans Jason Todd x reader smut

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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hello!!! I just saw your kink/flufftober post and wondered if I could request “biting” with barbatos? It can be either fluff of nsfw, whichever gets the creative juices flowing more! As always, love the work you do here, thank you!!!!

Hello and thank you I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! <3

I was doing so well keeping within my word count limit until now. I can't act like I'm surprised, it's Barbatos we're talking about lol. And I decided to use this as a kink prompt because ooooof I love biting. So you know, having two things I very much enjoy as a prompt ended up with something slightly longer than perhaps intended. But I think it turned out okay still!

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

KINKTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Barbatos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: biting, a little bit of blood, oral and penetration (both reader receiving)

You were in the kitchen at the Demon Lord's Castle, helping Barbatos make red velvet cupcakes. Since it was a flavor from the human world, you had agreed to help out with making them, passing final judgment on how they turned out. You were currently mixing the red food coloring into the batter. While the recipe you had used was a classic red velvet recipe, the bright color of the cake still needed that extra vibrancy from the food coloring.

Barbatos was beside you, mixing vanilla into the frosting.

Normally, Barbatos entered a sort of flow when baking. It was almost meditative, the way he moved around the kitchen so easily. But at that moment, you noticed that he seemed a little distracted. Certainly the frosting was looking delicious, but he seemed to be focused elsewhere.

You stopped what you were doing and looked over at him. He froze, meeting your eyes for a moment before flicking his gaze down to your fingers.

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were covered in red food coloring.

You laughed a little. "Sorry," you said. "I'm making a mess, huh? Is that why you're so distracted?"

Barbatos closed his eyes and frowned. "You needn't apologize, MC. I'm afraid seeing that brilliant red on your skin has made me think of things I shouldn't."

You were puzzled by this response. You cocked your head curiously. "Such as…?"

Barbatos opened his eyes and the hunger you saw there made heat run through you. Barbatos put down the spatula he'd been using to mix the vanilla into the frosting and took one of your hands instead. He brought it to his lips and kissed away some of the red. The way it painted his lips was so sensual your knees went weak.

You let out a little gasp as Barbatos circled behind you, putting his red stained lips to your neck. You had to grip the kitchen counter for support as he sucked for a moment, his arms going around your waist.

Barbatos let his teeth scrape gently across your skin as he pulled his lips away. "Forgive me, MC. I am not sure what has come over me."

His arms moved as if he was about to move away from you, but you put both of your hands on them. You didn't care that you were likely getting red food coloring on him. You just wanted to hold him in place. "Don't stop."

Barbatos pressed himself into you and there was no mistaking the erection you felt against you as he put his lips back on your neck.

You moaned as he bit down gently, as though he couldn't resist but he also didn't want to hurt you too much.

You deliberately pushed yourself back against him, making it clear that you knew how turned on he already was.

Barbatos laughed softly against your neck. "What is it you would like from me, MC?"

"I want you to bite harder," you said.

Barbatos put his lips on your ear. "As you wish."

A tingle ran up your spine at the sound of his voice in your ear. He turned you around in his arms, then lifted you bodily. He set you down on the kitchen counter, on a spot that was far away from where you had been attempting to make red velvet cupcakes.

In moments, Barbatos had removed your clothes and put his lips on your inner thighs. Your hands flew to his head, fingers running through his hair. You gasped and tried desperately not to pull when he bit down on the sensitive skin there, harder than before just as you had asked. He worked his way up your thigh, biting the whole time, making you gasp and whine as he did.

When he finally put his tongue between your legs, you cried out his name, your legs squeezing around his head involuntarily. He stayed there for a long time, but he never let you get too close to orgasming.

Barbatos finally stood up, causing you to whine and grip at his arms unhappily. You squirmed on the counter top as you tried to pull him closer to you. He obliged, moving closer to stand between your knees.

Barbatos reached out and put his fingertips to your neck where he had been biting it earlier. He wasn't wearing his gloves, of course, he had taken them off long before you even started baking. Now his fingers were covered in the red food coloring.

"Barbatos," you said as you pulled on his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his cock. You rubbed it in your hands for a moment before looking at him. "Please."

"Normally I would not allow such a mess to occur on my kitchen counter," Barbatos said quietly, putting his hands on either side of you and leaning in to your neck once again. "But I'm afraid you've awakened something in me, MC."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer. You realized that the counter here was a bit lower than it was in most of the other places in the kitchen. Which meant that you were at the perfect height. You smirked a little when you realized that Barbatos knew exactly what he was doing when he placed you here.

The smirk was gone in an instant as Barbatos pressed his cock into you, his teeth leaving marks on your neck at the same time, his hands gripping your hips. You had to hold on because as soon as he was inside you, Barbatos did not hold back. You felt your entire body heat up as he thrust fast and hard, his teeth continuing down your neck. He reached up to pull your top out of the way so he could bite down your shoulder.

The sweetness of his cock inside you mixed with the pleasurable pain of his teeth was almost too much sensation. You couldn't hold still and you couldn't keep quiet. You were already close from when he was using his tongue and it wasn't long before you were crying out, clamping hard around him. You felt his cum inside you only moments later.

When Barbatos pulled away to look at you, the red of the food coloring was still bright against his lips, but there was a slightly darker red next to it now. He leaned back in and kissed the bite marks he had left.

"Your blood is much prettier than this food coloring," he said softly in your ear. "I do hope I did not hurt you too much by drawing it."

You sighed against him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "Next time you can add the food coloring to the batter."

Barbatos chuckled, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. Later you would need to wash the red off your hands as well as your lips, cheeks, neck, and thighs.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#apparently Barbatos only allows sex in the kitchen when he can't control himself #which seems to happen when there's food coloring involved?#I dunno I just write what the smut muse brings me #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos smut #om barbatos #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me x reader #misc kinktober 2023 #misc naughty times #misc writes

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Text

childhood sweethearts (4) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three thank you all sm for all the love and support on this series! she's a longer chapter but there are more parts coming, and a little bit more of a backstory! childhood sweethearts (4) II a.russo x reader

waking up that next morning you scrambled to check your call log, needing the assurance of certainty that last night hadn't been some sort of feverishly cruel dream.

but the evidence didn't lie and so you buried your face in your hands with a quiet groan of discontent as your stomach dropped and dread washed over you, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

you wanted nothing more than to strangle alessia for leaving you with no other options, for being so drunk and so belligerently ignorant that she couldn't and wouldn't ever understand just how much unrest and distress last night had caused you.

or how many memories it drudged up from the locker of your mind that you'd done your very best to shove deep down away where they would no longer affect you. the memories of what it was like when things were good, before everything turned to nothing and even speaking her name felt like ash in your mouth.

you knew you'd have to face the now much more sober blonde sooner or later, and unfortunately would likely need to fill in the gaps which no doubt existed in her mind from last night.

though in a somewhat twisted fashion you quite looked forward to the humiliation and embarrassment she would no doubt feel when reflecting on her behavior and the truth came to light.

it was more than fair that she now be subjected to having no options but to revel in the ugly recollections of her words and actions last night. you almost hoped she'd get on her knees and beg your forgiveness so you could turn her down and watch her face fall like yours fell all those years ago.

well maybe you didn't hope for something quite that harsh, but watching her scramble over herself to fumble out an apology as her face flushed red with embarrassment and regret seemed like the only prize you'd get for your forced hand to be her caretaker last night.

given that you hadn't received any sort of text you assumed alessia was still sleeping off what was likely to be a raging hangover, and not wanting to wake or face her before entirely necessary you made sure to take your time showering.

this meant you washed and dried your hair, shaved your entire body and even went as far as to do your usual skin care routine twice, making the excuse you skipped a step so of course you then needed to wash your face and start all over again.

having wasted just shy of two hours and still not having heard a single peep from your unwelcome house guest, you changed and finally left the room, intending to make some food to appease the hungry growls coming from your stomach.

as you stepped out though you frowned slightly seeing the door to your guest room wide open, you were sure you'd closed it when you left her last night.

you rocked on the balls of your feet for a moment, contemplating if you should check on her or not. "she could have choked on her own vomit." you mumbled to yourself, playing with your fingers before sighing, decision made.

you trod softly as you cleared the distance between your room and hers, ever so cautiously poking your head just around the corner of the door, not wanting to catch her off guard and make things even more awkward on the rare chance she was already awake.

though you almost wished that was the case when your eyes finally met the bed, the very much so empty and perfectly made bed.

you knocked on the door quietly, unsure if she was maybe just out of sight changing or in the bathroom, but the lack of response really confirmed what you were already thinking.

she'd left.

without so much as a note, a text, no acknowledgement of anything you'd done for her, not even an apology or a hint of a thank you. the bed so well made had you not already seen the phone calls you may have actually thought you'd dreamed it.

if anything this really solidified for you that you'd made the right decision to decline her offer of a blossoming friendship. and so once again you were left disappointed, let down by the actions of the same blonde who broke your heart all those years ago.

alessia fucking russo.

you'd typed and erased a message to her over and over.

some were out of anger, some of disappointment, but all with the intention of making it known you didn't want to hear from her ever again.

but each time you'd just change your mind with a shake of your head, quickly backspacing and clicking off your phone, tossing it aside with a sigh.

once more you hated that you cared, hated that you wanted her to know how you felt and maybe for her to feel something too. you hated that you knew she wouldn't, if she had then maybe she'd have already messaged, but she didn't, and she wouldn't.

so ultimately you decided, neither would you.

you'd thrown yourself into work monday and tuesday, determined to cleanse your brain of every and any trace of the selfish, pigheaded, idiotic blonde that had once more weaseled her way in against your will.

you battered away every question or attempt from your mum to bring alessia into your conversation when you eventually gave into avoiding the older woman and invited her and your sister around for dinner on the tuesday, and it was painful, but you managed.

but as hard as you tried you couldn't erase the way your body still reacted to her touch, or the way your knees buckled just a tiny bit when you heard those once beloved nicknames directed your way again, to the fact that no matter how hard you battled to keep her out of your head, nothing worked.

which is why when you opened your door to leave for work on wednesday and found her crouched down on your doorstep with a bunch of flowers in hand, you were convinced the universe was playing some sort of cruel trick on you.

"uh, hi?" alessia's cheeks flushed bright red as she adjusted the card in the flowers, leaving them on your doorstep and quickly straightening up, rubbing the back of her neck as you wordlessly stared her down.

she was wearing a yellow, black and blue kit of sorts, clearly on her way to something football related, given it was a wednesday morning you assumed probably training.

"were you going to knock? or just leave those and run away, again." you spoke calmly but sharply, and alessia visibly winced at the obvious ice in your tone toward her. "i didn't..." alessia trailed off, struggling with her words which really was enough for you to know she had no intention of ever knocking.

"grand. i'll leave you to it then." you nodded, pulling your door closed behind you, stepping over the flowers and brushing past her without another word, headed for your car in the driveway.

"wait!" you heard her hurry down the stairs after you as you paused, gripping the door handle and glancing at her over your shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "i didn't think you'd want to see me after...well, you know." alessia winced again, clearly recoiling at whatever recollection she had from the weekend.

"you were right. do me one last favor though?" your jaw clenched and you took a deep breath as alessia nodded for you to continue.

"take your flowers, lose my number, forget where i live and don't contact me again. you don't know me anymore and i don't know you. i'd more than like to keep it that way so just stay away from me alessia, please." you spoke quietly and as firmly as you could manage, but the obvious hurt was hard to mask in your words much as you tried.

you didn't wait to give her a chance to speak, or to see the look on her face as you slid into your car, closing the door and taking a deep breath before mumbling to yourself to get on with it and pulling out of your driveway.

you spared a glance in the rear view mirror unable to resist the urge, every cell in you practically burning, but ultimately there wasn't a point, she was already gone.

it seemed the message to leave you alone had sunk in once again because there was radio silence from the blonde striker, and you admittedly heaved a silent sigh of relief when your weekend passed by without a single drunken phone call.

you weren't surprised when your mum called you the next week demanding your presence at another family dinner with the russo's, once again trying to use how eager carol was to see you as a means to guilt trip you into attending.

you knew it was only a matter of time before the invitation popped up and yet you were still struggling to find a reason why you couldn't go. so you blurted out the first thing that came to mind besides being sick which you knew would fool no one.

"i can't mum, i've got a date that night and it would be rude to cancel." "a date?? darling you didn't tell me you were seeing someone!" "it's a first date mum i'm hardly seeing anyone, one of the girls at work set us up." "oh well thats great you're putting yourself out there! you'll be missed but i'll let them all know you'll be at the next one."

"less, just call the girl for god sakes. you've been a mopey mess all week!" lotte gently bumped her shoulder against the blonde who was picking absentmindedly at her food, pushing it around her plate more than eating any of it.

lotte being one of alessia's only friends who actually knew the real story behind her complicated relationship with you, could easily see how affected her best friend was from the ongoing interactions since you'd been dropped back into her life.

"i can't lotte. you don't understand, i messed it up so badly." alessia sighed, dropping her fork and her head into her hands, sighing deeply as lotte noticed a few of their team mates look over curiously.

"lets go for a walk, come on."

"-so you left without saying anything. then a few days later you turn up on her doorstep with some flowers and a card that says im sorry that you were going to just...leave there." lotte winced as alessia nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"oh less." lotte sighed, rubbing the girls back with a shake of her head as the two of them took a seat on the training pitch, relishing in the rare rays of sunshine which were shining down on them.

"i know! but i was so incredibly humiliated that morning when i woke up and realised where i was and that i could barely remember anything i just bolted. i couldn't face her and hear whatever the hell i said or did, and then i meant to call around to see her and speak to her about it and obviously apologise but i just couldn't." alessia groaned, slumping backwards and covering her face with her arm.

"sometimes we have to do hard things to get out of uncomfortable situations, or else we just continue to sit in that uncomfortable situation which is often worse anyway." lotte patted the blondes knee somewhat sympathetically.

"stop being right." alessia mumbled into her hand causing the brunette beside her to crack a smile. "can i ask you something?" lotte laid down beside her as alessia nodded. "could you really go back to being just friends?" lotte asked quietly, cautious of the girls reaction to the question.

"yes! its been six years lotte." alessia huffed defensively, an eyebrow raised curiously in her direction all it took for her to sigh and crumple back into herself once again.

"god okay honestly? i really have no idea. you were there for the aftermath of when we broke up, it was hardly a clean break." "-and it was your fault." "lotte!" "what? it was. are you really going to argue with me about that? like you said less, i was there for the aftermath."

"god she's such a headache. can you even still be in love with someone after six years?" "love is a big word less." "yeah. well i feel big things whenever i see her, or whenever someone mentions her name, and with how much time has passed that's never changed, no matter how hard i've tried." alessia admitted with a pained sigh, truly headspun from the moment she'd laid eyes on you in the restaurant, and really she just couldn't bare to ignore it anymore.

every single emotion she'd ever felt around you or for you had come crashing down on her, and she'd done her very best to pretend they hadn't phased her, that she was over you and over what happened.

she'd spent days fantisising of just how different things would be if she hadn't broken your heart, and it had taken some time but alessia knew now that she had, and it was something she'd wear on her sleeve. not with pride but at the very least to own up to her behaviour and how it affected you.

you, who hated her guts and rightfully so. you, who had still gone out of your way to take care of her when she was the last person who deserved it. you, who after six years alessia feared she was still absolutely smitten for.

but she was tired of pretending, tired of even more time passing where the two of you weren't on speaking terms. alessia would be lying if one of the first things she'd thought of at the bar last weekend was how much better her night would have been if you were there with her.

you'd have been tucked into her side, having gone to the game and witnessed the win, cheering her on and wearing her jersey, meeting her team mates. you'd have both been sharing cheeky kisses in between soft words of adoration, being teased by her friends for being so incredibly lovesick for one another.

you'd blush at their teasing words at first, then maybe bite back with a witty comment or two once you were comfortable, and they'd have loved you, why wouldn't they? there was seldom a person you'd ever met who didn't, you were a rarity, a diamond in the rough.

an actual good fucking person, and alessia had been too arrogant and narrow minded to see that, and so you'd slipped through her fingers and she'd let you fall, watching as you stepped away and selfishly crying herself to sleep at having to let you go.

"i mean you take away those few years the two of you were together and you always loved her less, just maybe in a different way which grew and changed as the two of you did, doesn't mean you didn't always love her in some capacity." "i did, i'd have done anything and everything for her." "so then why-" "you know why lotte, as much as it hurt her it hurt me too. i'm not saying it was the right thing to do, but she's clearly moved on and she’s doing well for herself, and i am too." "are you?" "lotte!" "i mean have you moved on?" "well i've dated other people, i'm sure she has too." "and yet here we are having this conversation, and you're thinking about how no one else was her, and maybe thats why they didn't work out." "jesus it scares me sometimes how well you can read me, its like you're inside my mind." "well then as your subconscious you've got some serious apologies to make, if you want her back in any capacity, that has to be the first step."

you breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang and you ushered your kids out to lunch, handing them their bags and watching with fond smiles as they all raced off to find their friends.

grateful it wasn't your turn for playground duty you closed your classroom door and returned to your desk, slumping into your chair, propping your feet up and pulling out your phone.

you were grateful you'd made it to friday, they were always the hardest to keep your little ones concentrations with the weekend looming so close. and given it was such a nice day their heads had wandered to the sun and the clouds outside rather than to what you were trying to say.

but the hard work was done. every second friday the school ran different fitness programs for each form, in an initiative to promote health and wellbeing and all that jazz.

but all the teachers, yourself included of course, reveled in the opportunity to hand the reigns over to someone else for an hour. for the kids to run out all of their energy and not drive you up the wall with their constant asking if it was nearly the end of the day or not.

so when the bell rang again you grabbed your things and hurried outside, smiling as you spotted your class already lined up together on their yellow dot, chattering away happily.

calling them to attention with a clapping pattern which they repeated back you marched off toward the oval, even going as far as to start a follow the leader chant as you did, followed closely by the other two second form classes.

you saw the field was already set up with cones and mini goals, the woman who normally ran the class each fortnight already stood and awaiting, this time joined by a few others all sporting the same bright red polo top that she did.

however as you got closer, and realised that one of the new girls looked a little familiar, your heart leapt into your throat and you prayed there would be a sudden earthquake and the ground would swallow you up right there and then.

you wanted to run away in the opposite direction, but you knew you had to be professional in every sense, plastering a fake smile on your face as she hadn't noticed you yet, busy conversing with a tall brunette beside her.

"leah! you've brought friends today." chloe johnson, one of the other second form teachers beamed as the woman wandered over, your kids all giggling happily as she did, bouncing on the balls of their feet ready to race one another around in the sun for an hour.

"i heard we were combining classes for the rest of the term so i brought some of the other girls to help out and so each group can have a leader. i hope that's alright?" leah smiled kindly, chloe assuring her it was more than fine before calling for the kids attention.

"okay boys and girls! listening ears on and turned all the way up please. i'm going to tap you all on the head one by one and give you a number, if you're number one go to mrs johnson, if you're number two you go to mr wilson and if you're number three you'll stay with me!" you announced, suddenly feeling eyes pierce into the back of your head as you willed your legs forward, making your way through the throng of 7 and 8 year old's, dividing them into groups.

"very good! thank you year two. now we're all going to keep our listening ears on and be on our very best behavior for miss leah and her friends." chloe finished as you shushed a few of the rowdier boys, nodding to leah who had an excited grin on her face.

"now i know normally it's just me on a friday but since we're all going to be together for the rest of the term i've brought a few friends, and i know you're all always superstars for me and you'll be just as good for them. right?" leah called out, smile widening as she was rewarded with a sea of excited cheers.

"this is jen, beth and alessia. group one you'll be with jen, group two you'll be with beth and group three you'll be with alessia!" leah announced as finally your eyes flickered to the blonde standing cross armed across from you, gazes meeting for a moment as leah blew her whistle and you squeezed your eyes shut for a brief second.

if you didn't think the universe had it out for you before, you'd now never been more certain you were correct.

somehow you managed to make it through the session mostly unscatched, with the teachers normally taking a backseat unless needing to intervene you'd spent most of the hour chatting away with chloe and daniel, who you got along well with.

you could sense alessia's eyes occasionally drift your way but you refused to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it, making a point to look right through her and focus instead on the kids, doing your job.

by the time the final bell rang leah had already promised them the girls would be back with her next time and as they all yelled out a thank you, you were quick to walk them off toward the gate, leaving leah to take charge of pack up as she always did, daniel staying behind to help.

you naively thought that by the time you'd waved off the last of your students you were in the clear, really only teachers left as you took a glance toward the oval and saw it packed up and emptied out, chattering away with chloe and making plans to go to dinner soon with a few more of your coworkers, the same group from the bar that you were slowly becoming potentially fond of.

waving her off as the two of you split to go to your respective classrooms and pack down, you almost jumped out of your skin as you crossed the threshhold of your room and noticed you weren't alone.

she hadn't noticed you yet, too busy wandering around the back of the classroom inspecting the different art and activities littering the wall. you cleared your throat, sitting down on the edge of your desk as alessia jumped a foot in the air, turning quickly and tripping over herself, almost tumbling to the ground as she reached out to one of the desks for support.

you stayed quiet as she pulled herself up, cheeks flushed pink and forehead slightly matted with sweat from running around after your kids for an hour, hair pulled back into a sleek low bun.

you raised an eyebrow, folding your arms and awaiting her to speak first. "hi." the girl stammered out finally, trying to sit down on one of the students desk to match your body language, but misjudging where it was she went crashing to the floor taking a few chairs with her and you hated her for the fact you had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop it curling into a smile.

"sorry!" she apologized hastily, standing quickly to her feet and fixing the chairs, taking a moment to steady herself and turn back toward you. "i know i don't deserve it by any means. but i'd really really like an opportunity to explain myself and of course apologize, properly." alessia fiddled with her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet as you sat there still wordless.

"okay yeah yep no i deserve the silent treatment, you're right." alessia breathed out shakily with a nod, starting to pace back and forth in front of you.

"look the flowers and the card were stupid and incredibly cowardly. i didn't think i could face you again after that night, when i woke up and realised where i was...i've not felt that sort of humiliation and guilt in years, so yeah i ran away." alessia started, trailing off and avoiding your eyes.

"i didn't think you'd want to see me and be reminded of clearly how much of a fucking selfish idiot i was that night, and like i said the other day i really did not think you'd not want to see me again afterwards." the tall blonde continued, pausing her pacing for a moment to collect herself.

"but then i realised that was again cowardly and even if its uncomfortable i needed to speak with you about it and apologise properly. so can we please, sit and speak about it properly?" alessia asked hopefully as your eyes bore back at her.

"alessia it's almost four o'clock on a friday, its been a long week and i have to pack down then i'd like to go home." you started, firmly though not unkindly as the blonde hastily nodded in understanding, spluttering out an apology.

"will you be at dinner on sunday?" she asked cautiously, as if afraid her next word would push you further away from her.

this was another side of her that you rarely saw, being nervous and flustered, unsure of her own actions and words and even caring how they affected others, your alessia had always been the opposite.

but she wasn't yours anymore, nor were you hers, which is why you felt a little less guilt than you could have when next lying right to her face.

"yeah, we can speak then."

sunday evening rolled around far faster than you'd hoped, your weekend seemingly blurring into one as you busied yourself lesson planning for your week. you'd meal prepped your lunches and that had taken all energy for cooking out of you.

so armed with a chinese and an episode of love island you sat tucked up on the sofa, glasses hanging off your nose as your laptop wobbled precariously on your knees, your fingers flying away at the keyboard.

before you knew it your alarm went off and you jumped, in disbelief it was already nearing nine thirty at night. you'd more than prepared for the next few days, but you'd need to go in early tomorrow to print some things off which you did most mondays anyway like clockwork.

you jumped yet again, startled by a series of short sharp knocks at your front door. you looked over suspiciously, alarm bells ringing in your head as not a single logical answer for who could be on your doorstep this time of night came to light.

so you did the next most natural thing, you grabbed a kitchen knife and slunk your way toward the door as the knocks sounded again. it was times like this you hated not having a peep hole on your door, so stashing the knife in the back of your pants you cautiously cracked it open.

for a brief fleeting moment as you took her in you convinced yourself you'd rather have someone half out their mind trying to break in. "oh sure! just come on in." you scoffed as she barreled her way inside without any sort of invitation.

"how was your date then?" the blonde asked calmly, standing in your living room with her arms crossed and a slight frown plastered on your face. you noticed a red wine stain on her collar and rolled your eyes, it was like dejavu.

"none of your business. get out!" you ordered firmly, returning the knife to where it belonged and pointing to the door as alessia ignored you, rolling her eyes. "you know if you didn't want to talk, you could have just said so. you didn't need to lie about coming to dinner." she sighed, dropping her arms as her body language softened slightly.

"okay. i don't want to talk, now get out!" you ordered again, pinching the bridge of your nose and holding in a groan as alessia sat herself down on the arm of your lounge. "no." the blonde refused stubbornly, again crossing her arms and it was now she really mirrored her childhood self, staring you down in challenge.

"this is breaking and entering, i did not invite you inside." you warned with a glare. "so go and call the police then." alessia gestured to your phone which sat on the kitchen counter. "god you are the most infuriating human being i've ever met. get out!" you almost begged, taking a step toward her.

"no." alessia refused again with a shake of her head. "what do you want alessia?" you asked, using all your self control not to smack the stubbornness off her face with the back of your hand. "to talk, properly." alessia emphasized.

"you've been drinking." you stated bluntly making the blonde scoff. "i had one glass of wine at dinner, i drove here!" she defended with a scowl, jingling her keys mockingly before shoving them back in her pocket.

"you know i had this entire speech planned out, but seeing you...well it all just disappears and its really fucking annoying. you're really fucking annoying!” the blonde huffed in frustration, rubbing her face with her hands.

"thats the pot calling the kettle black then. but maybe its a sign we shouldn't talk. you're sorry for what happened, fine. i asked you to leave me alone alessia, why can't you respect that?" you gestured your arms around wildly with a groan.

"i know it started with; i wanted to say that i do still know you, by the way." alessia ignored your question, looking up at the roof as she struggled to remember what she'd rehearsed over and over in her car on her way over.

"alessia it's late, lets not do this right now." you pushed, but it was to no use as it was obvious the taller girl wasn't leaving until she told you what she needed to, no matter what you said.

"no. you said that i didn't, and yeah i might not know you in some ways because obviously you've grown up and had experiences i wasn't around for. but i do know you in ways that don't ever go away, even with time apart. six years doesn't change that i know you like the back of my hand, even if you hate me for it."

"alessia-"

"i know that you still cut the crusts off your toast, and you refuse under any circumstances to eat olives or tomatoes. i know this because i'd always make sure i'd take them off your plate for you before my mum would notice."

you sighed deeply and sank down against the wall, burying your face in your hands with an annoyed groan.

"i know that you bite your nails when you're nervous or feeling shy, and you fidget with your necklace when you're worried someones speaking about you. you'd twist my rings around when you knew i was nervous before a game, and i'd never even need to tell you because you just knew when i wasn't myself." she paused to catch her breathe before continuing, on somewhat of a roll now as everything started to come back to her.

"alessia please stop fucking talk-"

"i know that you still use chopsticks or a spoon to eat certain kinds of crisps because you hate the feeling of the dust on your fingers. i know that you hate hot drinks because they remind you of the time you burnt your tongue on two minute noodles. i know that you couldn't care less about football but you'd listen to me bang on about it for hours because you didn't want to hurt my feelings or have me think you didn't support me. you'd let me kick balls at your head for hours because you knew it helped me, you were the first person i'd go to after a game and the only one i'd point to when i scored."

"alessia please-" you begged now, your voice cracking as you took a few steps toward her, almost on your knees to ask that she stop talking.

"no! every time that I am around you my entire being, every single cell and fiber and mollecule feels fizzy. you make me feel properly alive, full of hope and laughter and the purest kind of joy. even right now, even the moment i laid eyes on you at that table for the first time in years. i don't care if its been six years i've spent six years trying to get over you, six years regretting everything about how things ended and six years fighting myself not to reach out to you because you deserved a lot better than the way i treated you."

"alessia i can't do this, please just stop." your voice cracked and died out, drowning and overwhelmed in the emotions pouring from her words, and the way they were forcing you to feel, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tighter and tighter as you struggled to breathe through.

"i broke your heart, i messed everything up. i'm not in anyway excusing it but i was young and selfish and stupid and not a day has passed i've not battled with myself about where we might be if i hadn't done that."

"alessia shut up!" you shouted, fists balled by your side as the girl continued to ramble, eyes locked with yours as you stood practically chest to chest, her still sat on the arm of your sofa meaning you were almost eye to eye.

"i know that you could run intellectual rings around anybody but you choose not to because you're a very good person, the best kind of person actually. you're kind and you're selfless and you've always put other peoples needs before your own. which is exactly why you've always pushed me more than anyone else i've ever met, and that you've always believed in me, maybe even far more than i ever believed in myself. i do know you. because its you, its always been you, and i think it will only ever be you."

and as your head reached a boiling point, the room spinning and your heart in your mouth, you did the one thing you knew would shut her up and reward you with one singular moment of peace to get yourself together.

you kissed her.

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

part five

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso #engwnt

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minarisplaything · 1 year ago

Text

The Producer: Late Night Sessions ft. Kwon Eunbi

It was late at night, far past the typical clocking out hours, when you finally shut down your computer and prepared to leave the office. It wasn’t unique to be working this late into the night, particularly in this industry, but that didn’t make it any easier. Despite your best efforts to keep things manageable you always seemed to find yourself staying longer than intended. While others were out enjoying drinks and unwinding on a Friday night; you were getting ready to head home and get some much needed sleep. Not exactly ideal but with the debut product well underway, there was little time to rest. With a tired yawn you got up, gathered your things, and left the office, certain to shut-off the light as you did so.

Given the hour, the last thing you expected to hear was music playing as you descended the stairs. You stopped, poked your head in on the second floor and the music grew louder coming from the direction of the practice room. As you rounded the corner you could see the bright lights from the room still on, further verification that someone was still in there.

“Huh,” you muttered to yourself.

You knew there were more than a handful of diligent workers among the trainees but at this hour? Unable to contain your curiosity you ventured towards the practice room door. Why you felt the need to be quiet was anyone's guess. Maybe it was the sense of feeling like you were intruding on someone's personal time. Whatever the reason, you found yourself peering through the door to see who was the hardworking member this late at night.

Through the door window was none other than Kwon Eunbi; the eldest member of the trainees. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, doning a t-shirt and sweatpants as she practiced her routine in the wall-sized mirror. Her shirt was drenched with sweat, clinging to her body and her sizeable chest in particular. You remembreed Jessica telling you that the girls had recently begun practicing a new routine. It seemed Eunbi wanted to get it down perfectly even at the cost of her sleep.

Even if a part of you wanted to chastise her about being at it this late, you couldn't help but smile when thinking about her dedication. You put your plans to leave on hold and went over to the vending machine to grab a bottle of water. Leaning against the wall, you waited until she had finished her the song to make yourself known, startling the older girl when the door suddenly opened.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to surprise you," you chuckled. "I was just on my way out and I was surprised to see you here. Care for a break?" You held up the bottle of water as an offering and apology.

"Oh. Thank you, Producer," Eunbi gave a nod of appreciation, moving to sit in the corner where she had placed her things and you followed suit.

Her body was still drenched in sweat, her bangs clinging to her forehead while the rest of her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.

"You know you’ve impressed me enough as it is, you should be catching up on your sleep,” you said as you handed her the bottle of water.

It was true most, if not all of the trainees had impressed you. Among the dancers, Eunbi certainly stood out. She also had a number of intangibles you had noticed, even if she was too modest to admit it. The other girls followed her example, they listened when she spoke. You hesitated to think about assigning a leader before everything was finalized, but those qualities certainly made Eunbi a strong contender.

She gave a light chuckle as she nodded, "Thank you for saying that. But more practice never hurts. I know some of the girls have left a…strong impression."

On it’s surface that was an innocent statement to make. But the side glance Eunbi gave you coupled with the knowledge of just exactly how some of the other girls had been making strong impressions caused your cheeks to tinge with a hint of red. Did she know about some of the things that had transpired? You had witnessed the others confide in her; had they confided that much as well?

“Even still,” you cleared your throat, averting your gaze as you did so, “I’ve seen you dance. You’re one of our best.”

"Sometimes talent isn't enough” Eunbi chuckled drylyl. This time you didn’t get the sense that she was trying to make some kind of innuendo. You glanced over at her to see that Eunbi’s gaze had grown distant and couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her mind in that moment.

"Jessica mentioned you’re one of our longest tenured trainee..." you started, approaching the topic cautiously. "I suppose you know more than most what it takes to debut."

Eunbi was quiet in response, merely nodding before she spoke, "I was at some other companies as a trainee before I came here. But time kept passing and there were never any plans for a debut. All the girls I came up with as a trainee were gone or made their own debuts. Eventually I thought that I'd have to give up my dream or go somewhere else too," she paused, "When Jessica-unnie offered me a place here I thought it was my final chance. But as time passed…"

She trailed off. Her story wasn’t wholly unique and you briefly wondered how many of your other trainees had similar storise. How many viewed this as their last chance to fulfill their dream? Suddenly, and not for the first time, you felt the weight of responsibility crushing down upon you. Before you could get too lost in your own thoughts, Eunbi spoke up again.

“But then you showed up,” she turned to look at you, “And everything’s changed.”

That felt like an understatement.

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

Eunbi shook her head, her ponytail shaking slightly. You hadn’t noticed it at first but she had shifted closer and her voice had gotten softer. You were suddenly aware of her plump lips, of the sweat still dripping down her forehead, of her large breasts pressing against your arm.

“Eunbi…”

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to move or react. Before you could speak another word, the dancer closed the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips against yours. It was hard to describe the kiss, a mix of passionate and desperate. Searing even as she leaned into you. Your brain malfunctioned only for a moment before you began to kiss her back.

Her tongue running over your bottom lip as she arched her body into yours. Without hesitation you opened your mouth, your tongues dancing together in an erotic kiss. This was different then your run-ins with some of the other girls. But rather than question it, you surrendered yourself completely to the embrace.

It seemed you weren’t the only one giving yourself over to the moment. In a flash, Eunbi had shifted from her position beside you on the floor and moved to sit herself in your lap. Her large breast pressed against your chest as her arms looped around your neck. All the while, her lips remained attacked to yours. Despite the professional side of your brain telling you this was a terrible idea; your more base instincts begged you to give in further.

Fortunately, the moment you felt Eunbi grind her hips against your lap, the decision was made for you.

You moaned against her mouth, her own lips tugging into a grin at the sound of them. Your hands reached up, somewhat predictably, and pawed at her round mounds. Even behind a shirt her globes filled your palms and then some. As much as you’d like to say you never noticed their size before, well, that’d just be a bold faced lie.

Eunbi moaned, arching her chest into your touch as she pulled finally back from the kiss, “I knew you’d go for them first.”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, guilty as charged.

You remembered overhearing a conversation once between Chaewon, Yunjin, and Jiwon; each of the three girls commenting how their bust didn’t match up to that of the older girl. Now, as her breast spilled out of your palm, you couldn’t help but agree with them. Eunbi leaned forward, stealing another kiss as you fondled her chest, her breathing growing heavy as she continued to rock back and forth on your lap.

“No, but I think you deserve more,” Eunbi said as she pulled back.

Reaching for the hem of her shirt she pulled it over her head, revealing a grey bra barely continuing her mounds. There was a moment when you merely admired the sight before you but a moment was all it lasted. A second later your hands were on her breasts again, yanking the bra cups down to expose her erect nipples to your touch.

”Did you think about this often?” she breathed out, her voice husky as her forehead pressed to yours.

Your response died on your tongue, completely lost in the act of fondling Eunbi’s tits. Admiring the way they filled each hand and the sounds she would make when your finger teased over her hard nipple. You were quite literally left speechless, so you did the only thing you could think of. You leaned forward, taking her newly exposed breast into your mouth. Eagerly your tongue swirled around hardened nipple, suckling while your hand continued to tease the unattended one.

“Ah! I take that as a yes,” Eunbi moaned, her voice breathy and a grin on her features.

Her fingers tangled in your short hair, keeping your head close as you continued your ministrations. Her hips began to rock on your lap, grinding back and forth over your growing erection. However impulsive the first kiss had been, it was clear that she had no intention of stopping what had come after. And from the way your face was buried in her tits, it was more than obvious that you weren’t either. There was a time when you had more shame. When you might head the professional warning in your head. But as more time passed, and more run-ins with the girls happened, that voice was getting quieter and quieter.

“Saerom and I had a debate whether you were an ass or tits man,” Eunbi said, chuckling, “I think I have the answer now.”

Had they discussed this? Who would get you to give in first. Which asset would be the one to make you crave? Is that why Saerom had worn those tight gym shorts today? You’d have to remember to revisit the topic of them discussing your sexual preference at a later date. For now you came off her breast with a pop, saliva trailing from your mouth, and turned to take her unattended one into your mouth. The dancer moaned, arching her chest into your mouth as her grinding hips began to move faster against you.

“Producer! Fuck!”

Anyone could walk in on the two of you. They could see the oldest trainee grinding on top of you as you suckled at her breast. They’d hear her moaning shamelessly, her head thrown back as she clutched your head. Yet that didn’t cause you to cease your actions, if anything it only encouraged you more. Visions of Saerom walking in, seeing that she had lost the bet between her and Eunbi, and deciding to join the display filled your mind and caused your cock to ache.

“Shit!”

Suddenly Eunbi cried out, her sounds of pleasure echoing in the practice room as she shuddered atop you. Her sudden orgasm rocked her body. She clutched your head close to her bosom. ,It was all you could do to keep your mouth on her breast, savoring the taste of her skin, as she rocked her hips on your lap. When she finally came down, the older girl pulled away from you with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I got a little too excited there," she sighed breathlessly. “I’ve never…from only sucking on my tits I’ve never had that happen.”

“It was my pleasure,” you replied, having finally pulled your mouth off of her.

Despite the erection in your pants, you were still in a bit of a daze. A pleasant one as opposed to feeling denied or blueballed. As much as you wanted nothing more than to free your cock and stuff it inside of the dancer in that moment, you felt like you shouldn’t push your luck any further than you had already.

“We should – we should probably clean up. It’s late,” you said.

Eunbi nodded, despite the fact she was still seated in your lap and had a lustful gaze in her eyes. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last run in the two of you shared. Not if she had anything to say about it.

A/N: so another one-shot into the future. i am working on the main chaptered series as well but these episodic one-shots are just good for the muse. also after waterbomb i just had to. hope you guys enjoyed!

#eunbi x male reader #kwon eunbi smut #izone smut #male reader #series: the producer

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ageofevermore · 2 years ago

Text

IT MAKES YOU MINE

SUMMARY — in the days leading up to your twentieth birthday, you seek the one thing you’ve never been able to find; your soulmates

WARNINGS — anxiety attack, omegaverse, soulmates, natasha being a worrywart

heart masterlist, tomorrow at one

In all the ways to spend the days leading up to your birthday, you had never that you’d sulk your way into a convention center for lost Omegas. Truthfully, you had always thought that you;d have no problem connecting with your pack, and your mates, but in nineteen years, you had never even seen an Alpha bear a soulmark similar to yours; and you have five. In nineteen years, that endless fire of hope that burned in your belly dwindled farther and farther down until it became a dull spark, the butt of a sparkler on the fourth of July– hopelessness.

The convention center is just about as busy as you would’ve expected it to be, but it doesn’t comfort you any to know your worries were right. It was the first convention of the summer season, a period of months where being without a meaningful relationship weighs on hearts the most. For you, summertime and Christmas hurt the worst. For you, living through these weeks and months with nothing but isolation breaks your heart into pieces that can't be mended.

Growing up, you were never an overly excitable or happy kid. You tried your best in your academics, in your relationships and extracurriculars, you were sweet, and you were easy, but you were riddled with paralyzing anxiety that always pulled you out of the fun you were trying to drown yourself in, and as you got older, depression kept you fully on the shore. Most doctors have assured you that being united with your pack will ease your symptoms; headaches, nausea, spells of dizziness, and paralyzing dark days that bind you to the center of your empty bed. For as hard as your symptoms prove to be, you’ve never had any luck like your mother. Your mother passed away two years ago in the same way your father had been taken. If you had one thing, it wasn’t a clean track record.

Being in the convention center was enough to set you on edge. The soulmarks that decorated your soft body burned the longer you remained uneasy, just like they did every time, and your breath began to pick up in the shallows of your scratchy throat. You’d been in the convention center for all of thirty minutes, already desperate for an exit despite a lack of booths. Alphas hadn’t even began to scour for their lost omegas and already you needed an out.

A defeated sound escaped your chest as your arms brushed against other excitable Omegas. You knew this would become just another bad idea, especially when you decided to come alone, after one-to-many anxiety attacks that became like rabbit holes of bad days, you had promised your mother that you would stop venturing out of your safe spaces alone; that had only lasted a few weeks after her death before it felt suffocating to always bother your less than affectionate and very intentionally scattered siblings.

You were in a disoriented panic, so focused on the blinking red exit sign ahead of you that you hardly realized that you had set her course straight for a female Alpha. It wasn't intentional, really it wasn’t, you just needed to escape, and the women had been right in your way. But, you hadn't known that until you went barreling into her chest. The Alpha growled deeply in her chest, having not expected to be plowed into, but her defenses fell at the submissive whimper that escaped you.

You couldn’t look up from your trembling hands, stuttering over an apology as you bounced between both feet nervously, "S-Sorry Alpha. I wasn't, I wasn't looking. S-Sorry."

The woman, having not intended on staying at the convention long anyway, could easily scent the presence of an anxiety attack presenting within your chest. An anxiety attack that had been presenting long before you had stumbled into her space.

"Omega." The woman's voice was steady, and dominating. It wasn't at all her Alpha voice; that would've had you on your knees, but rather a dominating tone that she tucked away to work quite a few kinky minded men and women into submission. It startled your attention away from your fingers successfully, and your soft brown eyes went wide seeing just who you had stumbled into. Not only had you disrupted an Alpha's personal space, but Natasha Romanoff's. That only sent another harsh wave of anxiety rippling through your tight belly.

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, Ms. Romanoff. I didn't, I'm so sorry!" If Natasha weren't so worried about your increasing heart rate, she would've smiled fondly at how skittish you were with a fluttering heartbeat that sounds like butterfly wings in a breeze. She'd hardly had any good experiences at conventions like these, especially once she's been spotted, but she felt responsible to overlook and make sure the presenting Alpha's had the right intentions with these otherwise vulnerable, and most times bratty, Omegas.

Natasha looks over the nametag pinned to your soft colored top and she prused her lips in admiration, Y/N. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. "It's alright, Omega. Come on, let's get you somewhere quieter." Natasha takes a hold of your trembling right hand, cursing lowly at how cold you must be if your icicle fingertips were any indication. She's not sure if it's from your anxiety or just general coldness either.

"N-No it's really okay. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." You anxiously responded, trying to pull away from Natasha but failing with how weak you had become beneath the clutches of an attack. You hadn't had one in months, and it was becoming apparent as you were rusty in all of your self-regulated coping mechanisms.

"Omega," Natasha flickers her eyes down to the nametag again, "Y/N, I wasn't asking."

You whimpered, dropping your head in shame and submission as you allowed Natasha to lead you into a small conference room isolated from the rest of the madness. It was only when the door was fully shut that you could remember how you had to breathe to calm your racing heart; something you often forget when you become like this.

"Hey, none of that." Natasha fret, pulling your cold and clammy hands away from your forearms when you began to scratch at them anxiously. God, she didn't know why she felt so drawn you, but every part of her body was screaming at her to help by doing more than just standing idly by, but she didn't know you, and she didn't know what you responded well to. "Good girl." Natasha praised when you let her grab your hands, not even trying to pull away this time.

"It's loud in there, huh?" Natasha cooed. She's experienced a handful of panic attacks herself, all due to her time as an assassin and an avenger. She didn’t want to imagine what had triggered this in you. When the Omega gave her a soft nod, eyes flickering around the room nervously, Natasha let go of one of her hands; that were shaking significantly less, and touched her chin softly, leading her gaze back to her emerald eyes. “You’re safe in here, Omega. But I need you to focus on me, okay? Y/N, hey-” Natasha doesn’t get the chance to continue. She would’ve asked the trembling girl to start counting to five, but before she could, a sweet albeit timid and shaky voice was ringing in her ears.

“P-you.” She pleaded shyly, cheeks becoming a hot red at the prospect of sharing her name with the Alpha. you was never the best with figures of authority, especially in such a vulnerable state. It’s one of the reasons her mother homeschooled her for so long.

“Hey, okay sweetheart.” Natasha smiles softly, not wanting to startle the Omega that’s slowly beginning to find her footing again. Natasha doesn’t even think she’s noticed that she’s stopped shifting her weight, and that she’s gripping onto Natasha’s hand like she’s dependent on it. God, her heart is going to ache when she has to let this little Omega go.

Natasha still hadn’t found her Omega. Her ache for that intimate connection was intensifying as the years passed, and it was often a conversation at pack meetings. By all means, Tony Stark could have found their Omega seven times over in a matter of hours, but they didn’t want it that way. They wanted to feel the magic of meeting by accident, by authentically falling in love and discovering one another. But God did Natasha crave one of these sweet creatures to call her own through every dawn and dusk.

“How can I help you, You?” Natasha asked, backing the two of them up so that she was sitting down in the office chair, looking up at You. Her jawline was soft, but her bitten lip and clenched teeth made it appear harsher than it was. That tension started to fall from her face when she looked down at Natasha, feeling like she had some of the power in this position. Natasha had hoped moving to sit would give You that security, and her lips twitched watching the brunette girl come apart from her worries.

“Y-You’ve already helped me.” The Omega frowned, not understanding what more Natasha was willing to do for her. This was more than anyone had done for her in months. You hated being alone, but it was easier to leave when she didn’t have anything to hold onto.

“You’re still shaking, honey.” Natasha frowned, reaching for the younger Omega and leading her forward. “I’m going to pull you into my lap, is that okay?” Natasha asked, tracing every feature on You’s face to indicate she wasn’t okay with that kind of contact. She understood completely if the Omega protested. They were strangers. Even if biologically they were Alpha and Omega, nothing would permit for You to be stripped of her right to choose what she was comfortable with. “I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Natasha smiled fondly when You nodded. She hadn’t even had to think about her response, just nodding softly and shyly. Natasha was beginning to think the brunette girl in her arms didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Please.” You’s cheeks burned, her chin dropping farther into her chest as she recoiled into herself. Natasha felt her belly spark at the sight, biting back a giggle at the submissive of the Omega. She would’ve pressed for more than from the small girl, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t get more than a whiny ‘please’ in response.

Natasha moved to grab at your waist, letting go of your hands fully for the first time in twenty minutes. You felt like you were floating again, like a butterfly in the breeze, without her grounding touch, but breathed in sharply when Natasha’s fingers brushed against the skin of your hip accidentally. In the Alpha’s innocent attempt to pull you into her embrace, her bracelet had gotten caught on a loose thread of your shirt, revealing a small pink soulmark on your hip.

Natasha’s eyes were glued to the pink mark, her own heart rate increasing in her chest. Right where the skin on her hip was scarred over from a soviet slug, right in the place where all of her mates had her soulmark, you had the same one. A pair of pink ballet slippers etched in first position.

At the hitch of Natasha’s breath and her following silence, you jerked backward, away from the Alpha, away from her touch, away from her comfort. Your thoughts were once again reeling at the prospect of what could’ve happened to change the atmosphere between the both of you so drastically, and the calm Natasha had helped you work towards had been dismantled easily, panic settling alight in your belly again.

“I’m sorry! I-Im sorry, Ms. Romanoff. I’m sorry, A-Alpha!” You sobbed, backing yourself into a corner when the distant glaze in Natasha’s green eyes softened once more and her breathing evened out as she pulled herself together. There wasn’t any time at all for Natasha to react, to ease your spiraling panic and start the settling process again, because by time she got her emotions into check, and could fully process how badly you were blubbering, the world became dark. The walls felt like they were brushing against you, the floor felt like it was opening beneath your feet, farther and farther away from your head as it chased it, until eventually your body crumbled and your consciousness went with it.

The convention center clinic smelt like expired antibacterial, and the scent was beginning to give Natasha a headache, but she hadn’t been too focused on it. After coming to her senses, and admittedly, acting on her Alpha impulse which she hadn’t wanted to do at all, she had called for the med squad to assess you in the lower level clinic. Natasha would’ve felt more content taking you back to the tower, but she knew that was a major overstep. She hadn’t had the chance to tell you about the soulmark, hadn’t had the chance to ask if you had any more, and she was almost positive that you hadn’t made the connection from ballet slippers to Black Widow.

Natasha had learned quite a bit from the medical staff as they rushed around the small infirmary. Their frantic rushing wasn’t in concern for your condition, they were just frazzled by the presence of an Avenger, and if she weren’t so in her head with worry, Natasha would’ve laughed. The staff had managed to pull up your medical records, leaving Natasha’s heart heavy in her belly just thinking about all that her little Omega suffered. Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. It seemed that your list of horrors was ongoing and unforgiving.

Natasha was on her feet at the first sign of you coming to consciousness. You, her omega, whimpered sleepily and in discomfort, shifting around the stiff cot until you abruptly recognized that you weren’t at home. Natasha forced a smile onto her lips, stepping into your line of sight and watching as your heart rate spiked on the monitor you were attached to.

“Hey, Hey, you’re okay, love. You’re okay, darling.” Natasha coos. She wants nothing more than to reach out and brush strands of unruly brown hair from your eyes, but she doesn’t want to cause another surge of anxiety through your already tight and recovering belly. “No, don’t pull that out sweetheart.” She stressed, watching you fumble with the IV in your arms.

The medical team explained your condition to Natasha after the Alpha had worriedly bared her teeth at them, saying that the small Omega had fainted due to the severity of the anxiety attack, but her severe dehydration hadn’t helped her either. Already Natasha was making that a note in her head. Three cups of water a day, at least.

“I-I don’t, please.” You begged, still focusing on the IV in your arm. You hated needles, and already feeling on edge in your own body, the intrusion of something you feared wasn’t a comfort. You had managed to pull the medical tape off of your arm, leaving a stinging feeling to bubble on the sensitive skin, but that’s as far as you had come before Natasha was grabbing your hands.

“You’re dehydrated, darling. It’s going to help you feel less dizzy.” Natasha enlightened, though she was sure you knew what it was doing. If fainting was on your chart as a common symptom of your anxiety, she was sure that you had been in this situation at least a handful of times. Seeing that the distress on your face didn’t ease, Natasha’s stomach clenched in guilt. She wished she knew how she could help. As an Alpha it was her job to bring peace and comfort to her Omega, but you were a stranger to her. She’d never been in such a difficult and intimate situation with her mates until much later in their relationship; this was all painfully new.

“Water.” You were floaty with the aftermath of anxiety and sleep, and Natasha could see as much. “Water.”

“We can get you some water, sweetheart. Can I leave you for a minute?” Natasha asked sweetly, not wanting to startle you when you looked to finally be settling into her comfort again. Guilt was ripping apart Natasha’s belly and had been for the last hour. Her reaction to your soulmark was the reason they’re here after all.

“Don’t leave. Don’t leave, please! I’m sorry.” You sobbed, beautiful brown eyes brimming with tears as panic swarmed your chest again like a constricting blanket. You hated hospitals and infirmaries. You hated being alone. You hated your anxiety, and how it claws up your chest and paralyzed you. You hated needles. Natasha was the only thing even remotely settling about your situation.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Omega.” Natasha’s tone was soft, but it was firm. It left you no room to argue, but neither of you believed she had the energy to do so either way. “I won’t leave, that’s fine. I can stay right here, but I will have to call a nurse then, okay? We can’t get you some water if we don’t move.” Natasha teased lightly, hopeful that it would ease your tight chest. You smiled bashfully, dipping your head down to look at your intertwined fingers.

“Are you okay?” You whispered so softly, Natasha almost hadn’t heard you. Her heart melted looking into your soft brown eyes, wondering how you were all alone at a convention like this when all you had done was prove that you have a heart of gold.

“Of course, I’m okay.” Natasha smiles softly, squeezing your hands.

“You got so quiet.” You whisper, scared that mentioning what had happened in the conference room upstairs would upset the Alpha and she would leave you here alone. “Did I do something wrong? W-When we were in the conference room?”

Natasha felt her heart grow three sizes at your revelation. She hadn’t even realized that was what you were implying, but the thought of you being so kind and attentive made her heart swell with pride and adoration. Maybe she was crazy, but already, she could see you fitting in perfectly with herself and the pack. You were exactly the sweetness that they needed, especially with Clint’s recent coming and going.

“Hey, keep breathing for me, sweetheart. You’re doing such a good job.” Natasha praised when she noticed the spike in your breathing again, your words coming out quick and stuttered. Natasha had never had to be this soft with any of her mates, it was refreshing. She felt like she was needed, as opposed to just feeling like she belonged. They were two very different feelings she’d come to find out. “I have a lot to tell you, sweetheart. But I think that pretty head of yours should get some real rest before we talk about it. But yes, I’m okay. I pinky promise.” Natasha had a feeling that you would enjoy the lighthearted gesture at the end of her sentence, and she wasn’t disappointed by the smile that split your cherry lips wide. You raised your pinky for Natasha to link her own with, a blush settling across the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m okay to talk about it, if you want. It would help me feel better.” You said shyly. Natasha just wanted to squeeze you, but she refrained from physically melting at your reassuring words meant to comfort her. How was it that somebody in so much pain was so sweet and kind?

“That pretty little soulmark on your hip,” Natasha began, watching every miniscule part of you for your reaction. She knows the boys would’ve wanted to be with the both of you when you found out, but a part of Natasha knew that a situation like that would put you on edge for days. Already, Natasha was overwhelmed with an urge to protect you from harm, to love you entirely. “Is my mark.”

You flinched backward, away from Natasha and into yourself and the uncomfortable white cot. You pulled her hands out of the Avengers embrace, dropping them into your lap as they began to tremble again. Natasha wasn’t offended by your reaction. She’d expected worse if she was being honest. Bucky had screamed and cursed when he had found out that Tony Stark was his mate, and when Tony had found out that Steve Rogers was his head Alpha, all hell had broken loose in the tower for days. You was a gentle addition to the memory book in Natasha’s head of all these moments, a light ripple in the waves along the shorelines, a monarch butterfly drifting in a sweet spring breeze. You were refreshing.

“B-but, you have Mr. Barnes! And-And, Mr. Stark! And Mr. Barton! And Mr. Rogers! A-And I’m just me.” It was Natasha’s turn to flinch. In all of the responses she’d come up with in her head. Of all the responses that she’s heard and been told of, never once had she thought you would feel out of place because of her social status. Never once did she think her sweet little Omega would put herself down all because of wealth and class. All because of the initiative.

“Y/N.” Natasha couldn’t help how rough her voice became while addressing you, but she wouldn’t allow your insecurities to fester any deeper than they already had. Your brow quivered at her tone, “You are our equal. This,” Natasha lifted her shift, revealed the outline of her mark to you. It was a beautiful thing really. How on your own body, your mark is just a simple sketch, but on your mates it’s so much more. It’s a soft color that represents them, most are usually black, but Natasha’s, hers is a beautiful soft pink. She wishes she could bear that color on her own skin. “Is my mark. It makes you mine. It makes me yours.”

“C-Can I see my mark? Please.”

Your soulmark is a simple, sweet, heart. It’s just to the left of where Natasha’s heart actually sits, and only half colored in with a soft brown ombre. Brown had never made sense to Natasha or her mates, but seeing you, feeling your radiant and elegant energy, falling in deep with your soft and gentle mannerisms, brown was the perfect color to describe you, though not to take away from how beautifully soft your hazel brown eyes are. But, now understanding why the heart etched on her body was half empty broke her heart. You were a lost little girl. You had always been a lost little girl. You had always felt half empty. Natasha hoped that being united, being together, would change that quickly. Natasha hoped that sometime soon you would come home to her and them.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #alpha!natasha romanoff #alpha!natasha romanoff x omega!reader #omega!reader #omegaverse

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