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em-ontv · 3 months ago

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Sing a song for me. (1/2)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, violence/death/murder/gore, manipulation (vought), emotional distress, psychological torture/trauma, imprisonment (vought), mentions of drugs, mentions of illnesses, cursing/language

Anon: I have an idea for a FMC who's a supe but her powers are "sirens song" her powers basically can control someone but in a different way depending on what melody she sings... she works at a hospital and helps people... Vought finds out about her and they take her... The boys hear about her after they get soldier boy out and they use him to help get her by him using his powers...

A/n: Hello, anon! Thank you for this request, this idea is just amazing, I love it! I shortened your request a little so it fits here :). I decided to split this into two parts because I've just been really busy, sorry! Everything written here is credited to you, anon! I'm just here to execute your ideas. Hope you like this <3

Read part 2 here

Word count: 3k

"Please," the young woman in the hospital bed whispered, her voice weak while her hands trembled over the thin sheet.

She winced at the pain that was slowly eating away at her. You could see it, not just on her face but in the way her body shivered against the inevitable coldness of death.

"Just make it stop... just for a bit." she swallowed thickly, reaching a hand out to you, and you held it for support.

You'd seen this before, so many times, too many times, working at Mercy Hospital. "I'll sing for you," you said, your voice gentle.

As you pulled the chair closer to her bedside, you began to hum, a soft melody that seemed to drift through the air, mixing with the beeping heart monitor.

Her body began to relax, the lines of pain on her face softening as the sound soothed her, a sense of warmness filling her. Her breathing slowed. The tears stopped. For a moment, in this broken world, she was at peace.

That was the way you had always used your powers. For peace. For comfort. The songs you sang were as natural to you as breathing, and their effects.

It was just a gift you had, something you could use to help the people in pain, to soothe those who were suffering—whether it be the children crying in the hospital beds alone at night or the elderly who were hooked onto the machines to live—the ones who had no one left. You sang to take away their pain, to bring peace in places the world forgot about.

The patients who were pale from nausea, you soothed them. The patients who were out-of-control in the ER, you calmed them. The patients whose time was running out, you eased their pain one last time before they passed away. It was all because of your voice.

But you never went beyond what was asked of you. Never used your powers on people who didn't ask you to. Never crossed that line.

You never sought out power. You had never intended to control.

And for a long time, you didn't know you could.

But Vought? They saw the potential in you long before you did.

The day that everything went wrong, you were working a night shift at the hospital. You remember it so vividly—the soft click of shoes in the empty hallways that you had mistaken for visitors.

You had just finished a soft hum to a child who was barely nine years old, singing away the nauseousness that came from his treatments when they came for you. Vought.

It all happened so fast. In a flash, a hand was clasped around your mouth and you were being dragged away. The kid cried for the doctors, cried for them to let go of you. But no, Vought wanted you.

You fought, of course. The Compound V that flowed through your veins not only gave you the power of your voice, but strength. It made you a challenge, but the tranquilizer they shot into your neck was made for supes.

A sharp pain pierced through your body, and you didn't stand a chance.

Your eyes flickered softly, the world dimmed into darkness, the last thing you saw was the nurses and doctors collapsed on the hospital floor.

And when you woke up, you were in a cage.

You were in a cage.

It was glass, or something that looked like it—thick and unbreakable. The cold room they kept you in was lined with monitoring equipments. They put a collar on you, some high-tech piece that clamped around your throat like a vice. It was set to explode if you so much as hummed a note. They made sure of that.

The first time you tried to test its limits by so much as opening your mouth, a sharp, electrical shock shot through your neck, leaving you clawing at your throat in pain.

You didn't know how long it was since you'd been here. Maybe weeks, maybe months. You tried to fight it at first, refusing to use your powers, refusing to sing for them. But it didn't take long before they forced your hand. Vought had ways of making people cooperate, and you were no different.

At first, they made you calm people, to help them sleep. It was awful but it wasn't that bad, you could handle it. People weren't getting hurt. You weren't hurting anyone.

But that was before tonight.

The door to your cell hissed open, and the guards came in and grabbed you, dragging you and shoving you down the hallway. The collar stung as it bit into your neck, but you learned to ignore the pain. It was nothing compared to what was waiting on the other side of that door.

They led you into another room, a see-through glass room that they pushed you into and locked the doors after taking off your collar.

On the other side, strapped to a chair, was a man. His skin was sickly and pale, eyes wide and wild as he struggled against his restraints. His face was covered in bruises, and his breathing was shallow—wheezing, desperate. You could see the tracks on his arms, the broken veins. He was a junkie, barely hanging on to life as it was.

You rubbed a hand over your throat. "What is this?" you asked, your voice coming out hoarse, the collar had been on for so long it was a wonder you could even speak.

"A convicted criminal," a voice said. You turned your head to see the man standing outside the glass cell. You'd seen him before—Dr. Connors. Always calm, always observing you like you were some test subject, it made your skin crawl. "A drug dealer, murderer that we pulled out of one of the city's free clinics. He won't be missed," he said.

"Why... why is he here?"

"We need to know just how far your abilities can go."

You felt your stomach twist. No. They couldn't be asking what you thought they were. You'd done everything they asked—calmed their people, helped them with their fucked-up little experiments—but this? This was different. This was wrong.

"I won't do it," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't hurt people. I'm not a killer."

"You misunderstood." Connors said. "You don't have a choice."

He saw the way your skin turned paler, and he took a step closer to the glass. "Isn't this what you do? To ease pain? You're gonna help him pass on, won't you?" His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but it made you feel sick.

"His time isn't up." your jaw tensed, your voice lingered with a hint of bitterness. A combination of fear and anger twisting in your gut. "I said I'm not a killer," you spat.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've been killing since the moment you started working for us. You just haven't been paying attention."

Connors gestured toward the other side of the glass, where the man—this junkie, this criminal—was staring at you, his chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. You could hear his coughs, see the sweat that rolled off of his forehead.

He didn't deserve this.

Maybe he was a murderer. Maybe he had hurt people, maybe he deserved to rot in prison, but no one deserved this. Not to be a lab rat for Vought. Not to be killed by a song. His fate shouldn't rest upon your hands.

Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and for a few moments, everything was silent. Connors was watching, his eyes turning cold, searching your face for any signs of rebellion. He'd kill you if you refused. And if you didn't die, they'd make sure you wished you had.

You were powerful, yes. But you weren't irreplaceable.

You didn't know what to do, staring at the junkie. All you knew was that there was no way out. Not without paying a price.

Connors stepped back, watching you through the glass. "Sing."

You met the junkie's eyes. He was gasping for air now, but he couldn't scream—his throat was too weak, but you could feel how scared he was. He was pleading for his life, even without saying a word.

Tears burned in your eyes as you felt your chest tighten, the melody coming out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The song was shaky, and it wasn't gentle. It wasn't the usual soft tune that you had sung a hundred times to sick patients, back when you worked at the hospital. It was a song of discord.

The melody wrapped itself around the junkie in the chair, and you saw him starting to thrash against his restraints, his eyes bloodshot and wide as he struggled like a feral animal.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you closed them, scared to get another look at him. The melody only grew stronger, and then…

Then... you heard blood splattering and you felt something on your face.

You reached a hand to your face, your fingers gently brushing against your skin.

And when you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was the bloodied chunks of human flesh on your fingers.

Then... him.

The chair where the junkie used to sit was now only a pile of blood. The transparent glass cage was covered in red. Red.

You stumbled backward, choking on a sob, your hands shaking, the song dying on your lips. The realization crashed into you, a wave of nausea coming up your throat.

The guards didn't move. Connors didn't even blink. They were used to this. You weren't.

"Excellent work." Connors said gently.

You felt the remaining of your strength give out. You slumped against the glass wall and your body slowly slid to the ground, your legs no longer able to hold you up. Your eyes never left the bloodied chair as tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with shock and disgust, disgust at yourself. You wanted to scream. To run. But there was nowhere to go.

It was the same routine after that.

When Vought needed you, they'd take you out of your cage, remove the collar, and force you to use your powers. When they were done, they'd push you back into your cell and clamp the collar around your throat again.

You didn't know you could control multiple people at once with your voice. You didn't even know you could kill with your voice. Not until they forced you to use it and then you started to see how deadly your songs were.

You were exhausted. Not just physically, but deep down in your bones, in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. Vought used you again and again, like some soulless machine they could turn on and off whenever they wanted. Every time you sang, you lost a little piece of yourself.

Each forced melody drained you until you started to forget who you used to be, the life you used to have, the people that you used to help. Your voice, once you considered a gift, was now seen as a curse to you.

Of course, at first, you fought it. You pushed back again and again, told yourself you’d find a way out. But the more they used you, the harder it got to hold onto that resistance.

You started to go numb, the fight in you slowly dying, your heart shutting down just to survive. Eventually, you stopped hoping for an escape, stopped believing that anyone would come. You were theirs, trapped in a cycle you didn’t have the strength to break.

The worst part? You barely even cared anymore.

So when they took you onto your first mission, you didn't resist, you did everything they asked, you sang to their enemies—their eyes would glaze over, bodies slumping forward, as if someone had cut their strings, or just be blown into bits with a single note. Either way, they just dropped. Dead in a matter of seconds.

It was too easy. Too much power. And Vought loved it.

But they didn't let you forget what you were. A prisoner. A tool.

Until... until they came for you.

Or more specifically... he came for you.

"This place looks like a fortress," Hughie muttered, adjusting the comm in his ear as the team prepared to break into the Vought facility.

"Quit whinin', mate. We've got our secret weapon right here," Butcher said with that shit-eating grin of his, patting Soldier Boy's shoulder.

Soldier Boy barely acknowledged the gesture, impatience in his eyes, as if one more pat would drive him to rip Butcher's hand off.

Hughie glanced at Butcher. "You sure this is gonna work? I mean, if she's as dangerous as Vought says..."

Butcher smirked. "That's exactly why we need her."

They moved in, navigating through tight security and avoiding patrols as they made their way deeper into the facility. The plan was simple: get in, grab you, get out. But nothing ever went according to plan, and the alarms blared before they even reached your cell.

Soldier Boy tore through guards like they were nothing, his shield crashing against skulls and bodies with brutal efficiency. The others followed in his wake, covering him as he cleared the path, leaving a trail of blood and broken bones, disoriented bodies scattered everywhere.

You'd heard and seen it all. The way the guards that were supposed to be at the door of your cage moved with urgency in their steps, the crackle of their radios.

Explosions. Gunfire. Shouts of panic echoing down the halls.

And then... silence.

You weren't sure if this was a rescue or just another nightmare, but something inside you stirred—hope. Hope that you hadn't felt for a long time.

You sat up, your body stiff and aching as you made your way to the transparent wall, pressing your hand against the cool glass of your cell, waiting.

The silence was shattered by the sound of crashing metal, followed by a loud boom.

You jumped, heart pounding, as the door to the hallway outside your cell exploded inward, smoke and debris clouding the air.

Through the haze, you saw him—Soldier Boy, covered in dirt and blood.

The last of the guards who crossed his path were obliterated, bodies flung aside like they were nothing with sickening cracks of bones. The bullets bounced off of Soldier Boy's shield like they were toy pellets. His eyes were filled with aggression, the adrenaline flowing through his body.

But then... he saw you.

In the chaos, his gaze locked onto your cell—onto you. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You, standing there in your glass prison, looking so defeated, so... broken.

Your clothes were stained, your skin marked with bruises, your eyes hollow and empty with a lingering sense of hope.

And when Ben saw you like that—it made something inside him crack.

He had seen plenty of fucked-up things in his long life. He'd caused a lot of them. But this? This was different. The anger that fueled him this whole time suddenly turned into something else.

He walked slowly toward the glass, but there was something softer in his eyes now. Something he hadn't shown anyone in decades.

The furrow of his eyebrows slowly disappeared. He reached out, pressing a hand to the glass between you. His palm rested flat against it, fingers splayed out like he was trying to touch you through the barrier.

He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn't sure what to do.

You lifted your hand, trembling, and pressed it against the glass where his hand rested. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something. Connection. A shared moment between two people who both had been hurt, used, controlled by the same people.

For a second, neither of you moved. You just... stared at each other, your hands separated by that glass wall, but it felt like the most intimate moment you had shared with anyone in years.

Then, without a word, Ben stepped back and raised his fist.

And it was as if you understood him, you stepped back too.

With a hard swing, he slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it with a deafening crash. The pieces rained down around you like shards of ice, but he didn't care.

He reached in, pulling you closer by the hand he rested on your waist, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid you might break under his strength.

"Come on," he said, his voice more gentle than he intended it to be. "We're getting you out of here."

You shook your head gently as your fingers reached at the collar, and that was when he noticed the collar around your throat, humming with electricity, ready to punish you the moment you step foot out of this facility.

Ben frowned softly at the device, his fingers wrapped around the tech.

Butcher stepped up closer, glancing at him. "Think you can get that thing off her without blowing her head off?"

He just grunted softly in response, working to disable the explosive.

"Hold still," he muttered.

After a few tense moments, the collar clicked open, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

You inhaled sharply, your first breath of freedom in what felt like forever.

But Ben didn’t move back. He stayed close, eyes never leaving yours. "You can talk now," he said softly, his voice low.

You swallowed hard, your throat aching, but still, you hesitated. "Why… why are you here?"

"We came here to rescue you, love," Butcher replied, stepping into your line of sight. His grin was sharp. "And as much as I would like to keep talking, we should probably get out of here…"

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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago

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Saddle Up - Yungi

KINKTOBER DAY 3, REQ. BY anon 🍞

~ "Would definitely love a YunGi x reader fic! YunGi as cowboys, and they frequent a pub where they grow attached to the owner's daughter (reader). Up to you how it plays out, but definitely lots of spit play, praise kink, double penetration, anal, degradation is good too! Maybe use of sex toys 🤭 just pure FILTH!"

pairing: cowboy!yungi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, western cowboy au, fwb, filth

summary: you've been helping around at your father's pub for a while, and two men became loyal customers. Little did you know they'd grow fond of you and.. they'd propose something.. tempting.

wc: 3.3k

warnings: fwb dynamic, cowboy au, big dick!yungi (obvi), cocky & bratty reader, manhandling, spit kink, cock sucking, cock warming, double penetration, customersfingering, mouth fucking, deepthroating, creampie, lots of cum, cum play, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: THIS WAS AWESOME TO WRITE ! I loved the cowboy au idea you gave me, anon.. it truly was a wonderful experience and idea to imagine and bring to life. I hope you liked how I wrote it ! Enjoy it, my love 🍞💖 (you can send me an ask with the emoji and number/idea and tell me your opinion !! I'd love to know it).

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The soft hum of voices, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air in your father’s pub. It was a place that felt like home in every sense of the word. You'd grown up here, watching your father serve drinks and tell stories to the regulars who wandered in after long days working the ranches. And lately, two of those regulars had started to capture your attention more than most.

Yunho and Mingi.

They weren’t like the other men who frequented the pub. Sure, they were cowboys through and through, with their worn leather boots, wide-brimmed hats, and the rough callouses on their hands that spoke of long hours spent in the saddle. But there was something different about them—something that made you glance their way more often than you should.

Yunho, with his tall, broad frame and gentle demeanor, always greeted you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. There was something steady about him, a quiet strength that radiated from his every movement. He was polite, respectful, and kind, the type of man who would hold the door open for you without thinking twice.

And then there was Mingi—loud, playful, and with a mischievous glint in his eye that never failed to make you laugh. He had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the weight of the world didn’t matter when he was around. His teasing always came with a grin that made your cheeks warm, and you found yourself looking forward to his playful banter more than you'd like to admit.

Over the past few months, they had become a fixture in your daily life. Whenever they came in, they made sure to talk to you, whether it was asking about your day or just making you laugh with some ridiculous story about their time on the ranch. You had grown fond of them, maybe more than you should’ve, but there was no harm in a little attraction, right?

You figured that’s all it was—a harmless crush. After all, they were always respectful, never crossing any lines. It was easy to enjoy their company without worrying about things getting complicated.

At least, that’s what you thought.

---

It was late one evening, the pub quieter than usual with only a few stragglers left nursing their drinks. You had just finished wiping down the bar when you overheard them talking. Yunho and Mingi were sitting in their usual spot by the window, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed voices. You wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried just enough for you to catch snippets of the conversation.

“I’m telling you, she’s been looking at us differently lately,” Mingi said, his voice laced with excitement.

“You think so?” Yunho replied, sounding a little more hesitant, but there was a spark of curiosity in his tone. “I’ve noticed it too, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized they were talking about you. You quickly busied yourself with cleaning, trying to look like you wasn’t paying attention, but you couldn’t stop your ears from straining to hear more.

“She’s interested,” Mingi continued confidently. “And we’ve been talking about this for a while. I think it’s time we make a move.”

Yunho chuckled softly. “And you think she’ll go for it?”

“Why not? We’re not asking for a relationship or anything heavy. Just… fun. And I think she might be into that.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Fun? What exactly were they planning? You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity swirling inside. Were they really talking about what you.. thought they were?

Before you could gather your thoughts, they stood up and started walking toward the bar. Your heart pounded in your chest as they approached, mind racing with all the possibilities. You weren’t sure what you was expecting them to say, but you knew one thing for sure—you weren’t ready for whatever was coming next.

Yunho was the first to speak, his voice calm and steady, just like always. “Hey, we wanted to talk to you about something.”

You looked between the two of them, feeling suddenly nervous. “What’s up?”

Mingi, ever the bold one, grinned down at you, leaning on the bar with a playful glint in his eyes. “We’ve been thinking, and… well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been looking at us a little differently lately.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, but you tried to play it cool. “What do you mean?”

Yunho stepped in, his expression more serious but still gentle. “We’ve both grown pretty fond of you, and we get the sense that you might feel the same. So… we were wondering if you’d be interested in, you know, something more casual. Between the three of us.”

You blinked, taken aback by the directness of his words. “Casual?”

“Yeah,” Mingi chimed in, his grin widening. “Nothing serious, just… friends with benefits. The three of us. If you’re into it.”

Your mind was spinning. Friends with benefits? With both of them? The idea sent a thrill of excitement rushing through you, but at the same time, you felt a wave of skepticism. Was this really a good idea? you had never considered something like this before, and the thought of getting involved with both of them, even if it was just casual, seemed like it could complicate things.

“I don’t know…” you began, hesitating as you looked between them. “Are you guys serious about this?”

Yunho nodded, his expression calm but sincere. “We wouldn’t have brought it up if we weren’t. But there’s no pressure. If you’re not into the idea, we’ll drop it.”

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “But if you are into it… I think we could all have a lot of fun.”

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race as you considered their offer. It was risky, sure. But there was something undeniably exciting about the idea. They were both attractive, charming, and they had always been good to you. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

After a long pause, you finally nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Mingi’s grin widened, and Yunho’s eyes sparkled with quiet approval. “Good choice,” Mingi said, his voice dripping with excitement.

The night that followed was a blur of touches and whispers, a heated dance of tension that had been building between us for far too long. It was thrilling and intense, everything you hadn’t known you were craving, and as the night stretched on, it became clear that this was only the beginning.

Being with them—both of them—was more intoxicating than you had ever imagined. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and what started as curiosity quickly turned into something deeper, something more passionate.

By the time the night ouy ended, you knew one thing for sure: this arrangement, this casual thing between the three of you, was going to be a lot more than just a fling. And as you lay there, tangled between them, mind already racing with the possibilities, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you had been waiting for all along. But... the night was just.. getting started.

"So... y/n." Yunho started, looking contently in your eyes, his left hand traveling up your body. Mingi's right hand was also on your body, feeling you up.

"Wanna come over?" Mingi continued.

You were stunned for a moment because of the sudden direct question, but you didn't hesitate any longer and agreed. "Y-yes"

"Good girl. Let's go" Yunho whispered.

---

"Make yourself at home, darling" the taller one said.

"Oh, yes sure. Thanks" you smiled at him.

"So...what should I do to you, sweetie? Mingi's hands on your waist, one of them on your ass, squeezing it softly and his other hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

"Oh, yes... tell us. What are.. your fantasies? Hm?" the taller one smirked, caressing your chin, from behind your back.

As the two men were starting to fondle with your body, Mingi with your ass and waist... Yunho with your chin and breasts, you could already feel Yunho's pants getting thighter against your ass. You gasped softly at the sensation, pushing yourself back more into his crotch. He groaned at your suddent touch, manhandling you to face him in a second.

"What a naughty slut are you.. arching your back to feel me more? Don't worry... you'll feel me well and more than enough tonight." Yunho said and picked you up, followed by Mingi. He dropped you on the bed, the two men towering over you.

"Mingi.. get the toy." the other one said and took off his clothes, being left only in his briefs. He was... fucking huge. You gulped.

"Let's see..." Mingi said and undressed himself, but him completely bare in front of you. His dick sprung out of his briefs, angrily hard and throbbing with every move of his and yours, coming closer to you.

"Yunho, undress her please"

"On it"

You were basically.. at their disposal. But was it uncomfortable for you? Not at all. You were in fact turned on by their manhandling, arousal already pooling in your panties. Yunho took off your blouse and corset, then your thight skirt.

"Fuck." he looks at you, like he'd want to eat you right there and then.

Yunho pushed you on the bed, crawling over to you and his hands went traveling on your body. His right hand went down to your thighs, spreading them out slightly. His slender long fingers took of your panties forcefully, leaving you bare and dripping in front of him.

"Hah.." he scoffed,"Already? You're so wet, baby" he said and without a warning he spread out your wet folds and started finger fucking you, your back arching at the sensation.

"Mingi, come here" Yunho whispered and even tho you were fucked out, you realised what he wanted him to do.

Mingi took the vibrator Yunho told him to get and put it to your clit, rubbing soft and slow circles around it. His free hand went to his lenghty and girthy cock, rubbing it lazily while watching you squirm and whine under the two.

"Uhgh- m-more!" you moaned out, while the two were overwhelming you with their touches. Mingi was circling your clit while Yunho was fingering you, both sending you over the edge.

"What a good girl... aren't you our good girl?" Mingi said.

"Y-yes !" you whined.

"And what a good slut.." Yunho dug his free hand in your thigh, your body arching.

"Hmm.. let's see how much you can take." the younger one said and pressed the vibrator harder on your clit, receiving some loud moans out of your now rapidly rising chest. He gave the vibrator to Yunho and you were now faced with him coming closer to your face, his cock hovering over your lips. You acted almost on instinct and kissed the red tip, looking up at Mingi. He gave you a nod, meaning you had to suck. You spit once on his cock and rubbed it a bit, then spit again to lube it up completely. You were already overwhelmed, but whatever he said you had to do so, you went right to work.

"Oh- damn, your mouth feels so good, y/n." he said.

You started by slowly sucking in his tip, trying to get accustomed to his girth. After you've seen both boys completely bare in front of you, you got to the conclusion that Mingi was way girthier than Yunho, but Yunho was lengthier... which either way was gonna hurt you relentlessly if they were gonna fuck you. Which... was gonna happen.

As you were sucking Mingi off, from his tip to the base and the whole shaft, Yunho without warning used two fingers in your other hole, receiving a moan and soft whines out of you, which revebrated through Mingi's dick. At the sensation and when you bit him down softly from the surprise he came down your throat, without any warning beforehand. He nodded again.

"Don't let a single drop go to waste, darling." the younger one smirked at you, his right hand going under your chin, lifting it up so you could get every single drop right down your throat.

"Such a good slut I have.." he said and wiped your lips clean, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You were also close to your high, been catching it for a while since Mingi started using the vibrator. You were so overwhelmed and overstimulated, even tho they just played with you until now. Only sloppy and whiny sounds could be heard in the whole room, from all 3 of you.

"Y/n... I'll be generous." Yunhi said and started finger fucking you forcefully, hitting all your perfect spots and curling his slender fingers inside you. You were clenching onto his fingers. taking him all up in your cunt. His fingers suddenly touched your cervix and you moaned at his touch, to which he fingered you a few more moments until the knot in your belly came undone, sticky white cum dripping off of his fingers when he pulled out. He sucked them dry, looking right into your eyes. It turned you the fuck on.

"Mingi... she's all lubed up. Lift her up." Yunho said and the younger one did as told, coming right under under you and letting you sit on him, pressing your back to his chest. Mingi's huge hands were now holding your waist, digging into your flesh. Yunho looked pleased at the position you both were in, smiling.

As your cunt was still dripping with your fluids, Yunho got an idea. He spit two, three times as close as possible to your core and used two of his fingers to gather some of it along with your cum, then lubed your other hole up with the mixture. You whined softly at the sensation, his spit feeling colder inside you. Mingi brought you up a little so he could line his cock to your ass, then softly tapped himself to your rim. You held onto his forearms as the two of them pushed themselves inside you at the same time, trying to bottom out but to no avail.

"Fuck... you're so thight."

"No shit... y-y'all are both inside m-me, mhmm" you whined cockily.

"Bratty?" you heard from under.

"Mhm, that's what I see." Yunhi said and forcefully pushed himself inside you, finally bottoming down, touching your cervix. You loudly moaned, arching your back but soon after being strictly held down by Mingi. It hurt so bad.. but it felt so good.

"M-more!" you shouted.

"And how do you politely ask for more, you little slut?" Yunho said, pounding rapidly into you.

"P-please ! P-please, more..." you whined.

"See? that's more to my liking." and he started fucking you even more rapidly and Mingi too. You could feel both cocks stretching you out so good, it hurt but oh god. Yunho had a proeminent vein on his length that you could suddenly feel rubbing against your clenching walls, driving both of you insane. The friction happening between all 3 of you didn't last too long as Mingi cursed a few times before coming right in you, followed by you. You let out some soft whines and tears fell from your eyes because of the pain and overstimulation.

"I'm not..." Yunho stopped for a moment.

"Done yet." he pushed himself fully inside you, his pelvis hitting yours, your back arching.

Mingi moved from under your body to the side and started watching you, catching his breath. As soon as he left, Yunho lifted you up and turned you around, his cock still inches deep inside you. You were now facing the linen, your face flushed and your eyes teary. He tangled his hand in your hair and arched your back with his elbow, then started rapidly and forcefully pounding into you, slapping sounds could be heard from him slamming against you.

"Y-Yunho ! Slow d-down!" you shouted.

"Nu-uh. You've been a little slut today... you were cocky a moment ago, where did your attitude go, hm?" he bottomed down and lifted you up, your back arched against his chest. One of his hands on your throat, slightly choking you... the other one on your waist, holding you close. You could almost feel that he was close. His thrusts became sloppier and heavier, with every and each of his thrusts your ass slapping against his pelvis and thighs, his hands finding warmth on your throat and waist, his kisses trailing your shoulders and back. He thrusted a few more times forcefully, almost animalistic, and came in your cunt, fucking you through his orgasm. You were overstimulated... but Mingi had other plans.

His cock was once again fully hard and throbbing. But that wasn't the highlight of the moment. He kneeled down in front of you on the bed and brought your head to his aching cock, unsticking your back from Yunho's chest. You were now fucked by Yunho and face fucked by Mingi.

"Love.. let me spoil you for the night." Yunho said and the hand that was on your waist slowly went to your cunt, his slender and long fingers circling your clit once again. Your mouth was filled with Mingi's cock, your cheeks feeling thight and the corners of your lips hurting. Mingi couldn't take it anymore, to see you slowly sucking his cock... so he took the problem in his own hands. He tangled his hand in your hair and started face fucking you again, deep throating you and feeling his cock hitting the back. You gagged twice on it, a satisfied look on Mingi's face could be seen if you looked above you. He patted your head, softly pulling out only to let you breathe, coughing a couple of times and gasping for air. You completely forgot how Yunho was ramming into you, your clit hurting from all the pressure he has inflicted.

"I've always wanted to fuck you.. y/n," the taller one said. "Not even fuck you.. but make love to you. I've always craved your lips, your soul.. my thoughts have always been filled with us softly kissing, tongues interlocking.." he was now slowing down, smoothly thrusting, almost making up for his just said words.

"Me too, y/n.. we've always wanted to get to know you better.. both as friends and, well.. sexually," he giggled, followed by Yunho smiling against your shoulder blade, sending shivers down your spine.

As both boys were now complimenting you.. kinda satisfied with the fact that you made them finish at least one time, they decided to also make you cum so.. Mingi started kissing you, holding you by your waist, while Yunho was working his way from the back, fondling with your ass and wildly ramming into your cunt. It wasn't long until you felt the well known knot form in your belly, and with a few thrusts of Yunho's, you came again, your orgasm being followed by squirting all over you and the boys. Mingi broke off the kiss and smirked playfully, slowly helping you off Yunho as soon as he slowed down his thrusts. He placed you on the bed and wiped you down with a cloth, then sat next to you. Yunho did the same.

"How was it?" they asked, in unison.

"F-fucking amazing..!" you softly said, still dizzy from all the action.

"Up for.. a 2nd round?" Mingi giggled.

"Wouldn't it be.. a 3rd round? Yunho smiled. "I'm joking, take your time, catch your breath.. we're not leaving you alone tonight." he said and planted a kiss on your forehead, softly stroking your thigh.

The night just started... and you were more than happy to spend it with them.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117

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sluttysnowangel666 · 5 months ago

Text

The Wolf & The Wildling

Part 2 to The Woman Beyond the Wall, last part.

masterlist

Summary: One year after Cregan’s near death experience with the wildling woman he met, he returns beyond the wall to find and recruit her in hopes of fighting alongside him for Rhaenyra Targaryen at the start of the Dance of Dragons.

cw; smut af come on you know me, really rough cregan, overstimulation, bit of angst but a happy ending :3, talks of SA, childbirth, no use of Y/N but an x reader,

stop not me getting emotional at my own story bc i imagined the end of scott street by PB playing at the ending😭am i a cornball?? anyways, thank you to the anons in my asks for the inspo, i wasn’t even really sure how to continue this story, although i knew i wanted more for cregan and his wildling, you guys gave me the inspiration i needed to give them their ending! tag list: @rebeccawinters

Every day Cregan hadn’t gone back out there felt like another day wasted.

He struggled to do his duties, struggled to sleep, fight, listen, do anything that required attention from him.

And yet despite their rather harsh separation, Cregan still thought of her with every free moment he had. It didn’t help many lords were also insisting the Warden of the North marry a noble daughter. He knew he had to do his duty, but couldn’t find the strength to do it.

It had been so long since he’d seen her that he’d begun to forget his favorite parts about her. It felt as if her strange laugh no longer echoed in his mind, as if he could no longer envision her scarred yet still smoothed skin.

He had the dagger with him always. It was like keeping a piece of her with him. He remembered the pain so vividly, could still feel the throb in his shoulder if he thought about it too hard.

Yet, the ache was nothing compared to the painful thought that always seemed to stay in his mind.

Would he ever see her again?

He couldn’t help but wonder if the Gods had greater plans for them. He prayed that they did.

“My Lord.” A voice interrupted Cregan from his thoughts. He stood, turning to face the person. “A raven has arrived from Dragonstone.”

Cregan took the scroll from the maester, quickly opening it to reveal its contents. It was a letter from Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was sending her son in hopes of gaining the support of the North, and requested Cregan have an audience with her heir, Jacaerys.

He would have to return to the Wall.

He hadn’t returned, much to the dismay of the Nights Watch, since he had nearly died from his wildling’s arrows. Even the thought of going near the Wall made his heart skip a beat. She would be so close, yet so far. He knew he could no longer avoid the wall. His duty to the men there was dire, and he had let his own fears get in the way of that.

As for his lover, he wasn’t even sure she still wanted him. As far as he knew, she hated him; she wanted to put an arrow through his eye, his dagger through his chest. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to see her again. No lady had ever compared to her. He had found his other half, and now felt empty without her.

If he did find her, what would he even do? They were bonded by love, yet separated by more than a Wall.

The separation would soon not matter anymore.

Winter is coming.

———

A fortnight later

Castle Black

Cregan had welcomed the prince to Winterfell, then accompanied him to the Wall.

The young men walked, discussing terms of Cregan’s service.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing. I need my men here.” Cregan says to his prince.

“Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather,” Cregan twitched at the word wildling. “the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming, to the whole of the realm my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North.”

Jacaerys trails off, standing against the guard that overlooked the entire outside of the Wall.

“My father brought King Jahaerys and Queen Alyssane to see the wall. His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons, the greatest power in the world, refused to cross… Do you think my ancestors built a 700 foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?”

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan finally looks beyond the Wall for the first time in a year, his mind thinking of her for a brief moment, and then the darkness that lies beyond it. “Death.”

“I have thousands of graybeards who have already seen too many winters. They are… wellhoned. I can ready them to march at once.”

“If your graybeards can fight, the queen will have them.”

“They’ll fight hard.” Cregan says, his mind once again thinking of his love as he says his next words. “Like Northerners.”

Jacaerys senses something; more words that the Warden of the North wished to speak.

“Is there something else you can offer us, My Lord?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan hesitates. “There is a woman…” He looks. beyond the wall again. “She is fierce, deadly with a bow. If I can find her… I can ask her to lead the graybeards into war.”

“Should she accept, my mother will be more than pleased to have her.” Jacaerys asks.

“My Lord!” Cregan turns, “A raven has arrived… Urgent news from Dragstone.”

Cregan looks at the man holding the scroll, who holds a sight of worry on his face. Cregan quickly opens the scroll, reading its contents.

Cregan looks at the prince, and Jacaerys tries reading the man’s stoic features.

All Cregan can do is hand Jacaerys the scroll, and let him read for himself.

———

Another fortnight passed following the news of the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Jacaerys had left the Wall at once to return to Dragonstone, whilst Cregan began to prepare his graybeards to march.

“My Lord, why must you go back beyond the Wall? The graybeards do not need a leader. I do not think it wise to let them be lead by a woman beyond the Wall, let alone the one who killed the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.” His maester tells him, worried of how the people of Winterfell and the men on the Wall will react.

“They will not know she’s a wildling. Tis’ not important information. All they need to know is she will lead them well into battle. I trust you’ll keep this information I’ve shared with you private, Maester Windell.”

“Of course, My Lord. You can count on my discretion, always, but I fear wonder if this journey is for more than a leader.”

Cregan stops his packing, not wanting to share more information than he already has with his maester. “No, maester. I only am going to help the Queen. I will be back shortly, with or without the wildling. Winter is coming, and I will not get lost beyond the Wall.”

The maester didn’t argue, so Cregan made his fortnight journey back to the Wall, and then beyond it.

He felt fear when his horse took its first steps onto the icy tundra outside the Wall’s gate. He feared he would not find her, feared she may have died, feared she would kill him before he got to kiss her one last time.

The late summer snow was not too harsh yet, but Cregan knew he did not have long to find her before Winter came.

He searched for days for her.

He returned to the spot where he first set up camp, finding the bark where he had carved a dire wolf had been completely torn and shredded by a knife.

When he returned to the cave it was dark, and no trace of her had been left behind. It made it feel like the moments they shared in there never happened.

He felt lost. He set up his camp in the cave, but she had not snuck to it during the night like last time. If she had, she truly left no trace. But, he knew he hadn’t felt her yet. She wasn’t there.

2 weeks into the journey, he had dreamt of her.

He dreamt he was a wolf, hunting, when he finally saw her.

She was sleeping, ever so soundly, beneath a bright red weirwood. He growled at her, and she awoke quickly, immediately grabbing and aiming her bow at him.

She gasped quickly, catching her breath as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She released the arrow into his eye, and he awoke.

He was sweating despite the cold, and the burning feeling in his eye was lingering.

He rubbed it softly, but then directed his attention back to her in the dream. It was really her. She looked different. She looked stronger somehow, and her hair had grown greatly. She had it in a long, thick braid. There were bags under her eyes, like she had been exhausted from something.

He stood and exited the cave. The sun was slowly rising, but there was a blue hue that made the snow on the ground glisten. He closed his eyes, stretched, and yawned when he heard a sound.

It was a familiar sound… the sound of a bow string being pulled tightly.

He lowered his arms from his stretch, and opened his eyes.

There she was.

She knelt on one knee, aiming her arrow at his eye. Her eyes burnt with a fire that he’d never seen, her breathing was quick and angry, her lips turned in a sad scowl, she was fueled with adrenaline.

He smiled, laughing softly. He couldn’t believe she was here. She pulled the string tighter at his sweet smile, her heart breaking at seeing him truly here.

He took a hesitant step towards her, but stopped.

A soft whining sound came from her back.

His smile faded.

She lowered her bow slowly, eventually dropping it completely. She had a fabric diagonal across her body. She moved it underneath her arm, and then twisted it around her body.

Her hands gently found and cradled the babe.

Cregan gasped. He couldn’t believe it.

She softly hushed the babe, tracing her fingers over its face. She whispered soft, comforting words to it. The babe made gentle little noises.

“Is that…” His voice was barely above a whisper. She looked at him solemnly. His hand covered his mouth.

“This is your son, Cregan.” She finally spoke. Her voice was smooth and melodic, different from how he heard her last time. He stepped towards her, falling to his knees. His whole body was shaking, and not from the cold.

“Does he have a name?” He asks, holding his arms out, hoping she’d trust him enough to hold his son.

She nervously hands him his child, fearful he might take her little babe, her only piece of Cregan, and never return again.

“No.” She says. “I only birthed him a moon ago.”

Cregan can’t hold it in anymore, and begins sobbing. All of his emotions pent up from the last year pour out. He holds the babe close to his chest, sobbing relentlessly.

He’d missed her so greatly this past year and now seeing her here, alone with this little babe, he’d realized how badly he erred. He wasn’t there to comfort her, hold her, help her. She had suffered it all alone.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

She stares at him, her face unwavering. She was so angry. She wanted to kill him so bad, to take back her babe and cut his throat.

But, she couldn’t.

He’d broken her heart in such an unimaginable way. She’d cried over him for weeks, and when her blood hadn’t came she knew the worst had happened. But now he was here, holding their babe and sobbing like a child. She didn’t even know Cregan was capable of such emotions. She didn’t truly know him, and he didn’t truly know her.

Her hand found its way to his broad shoulder to try to comfort him. Her other hand moved to cradle his cheek. He rested his face into her hand, spilling wet tears on her.

“Oh, Cregan.” She whispered, wiping the never ending tears from his cheek. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, hushing him like she did their babe. She wrapped her other arm around him, bringing her warm body against his while still being careful of their infant.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I should not have left you. I should have killed those men and brought you home-“

“Sh, sh, Cregan.” She whispers again. “I’m yours, as you are mine.”

Her words send him back into tears. She presses soft kisses to the tears on his cheek, weaving her fingers in his curls that she desperately missed.

“Where have you been?” He asks, minutes after calming down. “I’ve searched these whole damn woods for you.”

She smiles softly, “You think I don’t know that?” He smiles. “Why did you come back here, Cregan?”

He looks down at their sleeping babe, then back at her. “I’ve wanted to come back every day since I have been apart from you… But, I couldn’t find the strength. I regret it more than anything. I regret leaving you, I regret not coming sooner, I-“

She cuts him off, placing her warm lips onto his. Not breaking the kiss, her hands take the babe from him, setting him aside next to them.

“What are you-“

She slaps him across the face, with such a strong hand that he can’t help but stop and look back at her in total shock. She pulls his lips back into her, confusing him with her back and forth attitude. “If you ever leave me again, I really will put an arrow through your eye.”

He smirks, pulling her back into him with his strength. “Now we’re even.” She whispers.

“We were even when you nearly killed me last year.” He says, she growls at him, but they continue kissing. “I wear these scars with honor.”

She tears into his soft clothes, “Take him inside, and then come back out here and make me yours again.”

He pulls away with haste, grabbing his babe gently and walking back into the cave. She follows, right on his heels. He finds a safe spot for their babe, setting the sleeping child down.

He turns, grabbing her by the neck and kissing her, pushing her backwards out to the cold.

“Be gentle with me.” She whispers into his lips.

“No.” Cregan says, ripping off her furs and throwing them on the ground. She smirks, not wanting him to anyway.

He grabs her by her hair and she shrieks. He pushes her down to her knees, and she sits in the cold snow once again. He unlaces his breeches, and she quickly tugs them down with his soft clothes.

She presses her cold fingers onto his pelvis, and she places gentle kisses along his length. She looks up at him with her big, doe eyes. He pulls her head back by her hair again and she gasps. He pushes himself into her mouth, immediately groaning at her warm tongue. She moans around him, placing her hand at what she can’t fit in her mouth. He grabs both sides of her face, thrusting his hips into her mouth, not realizing his roughness. He had missed her so much, and he was so lost in the pleasure of her mouth.

She gagged repeatedly, her eyes flowing with tears. Her free hand rested on his toned stomach for balance, and she scratched her nails into him from time to time.

He pulled her head back with a pop of her lips, and looked down at the little mess before him. Her cheeks were stained with tears, drool spilling from her lips, her thighs rubbing together to relieve the tension between her legs.

He pushed her back into the snow and got on his knees, placing himself between her legs. He wrapped his hand around her throat again, rubbing his fingers at the wetness between her legs.

“You’ve missed me?” He asks.

“I’ve missed that cock.” She teases.

“Don’t worry. There won’t be much to miss soon.” He presses a harsh kiss to her lips, sliding himself into her. She gasps into his lips, trying to pull away to cry out, but he refuses to let her go. He pulls one of her legs to his chest to give him a deeper angle and she whines into his lips. He starts thrusting, fast and harsh, into her healing cunt. His hand moves from her throat to her breast, now round and large with milk than the last time he’d had her.

“Cregan!” She cries out loudly, finally breaking free from his lips. She throws her head back into ecstasy, her hair becoming wet from the snow. Cregan moans loudly, his thrusts sloppy and quick.

“I’m putting another babe in you.” He moans, forgetting why he was there to retrieve her in the first place.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” She says, slapping him across the face. He looks at her angrily, a wolf awakening inside him. He grabs her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he fucks her harshly and angrily.

“I’m gonna cum.” She whines, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“Don’t.” He says. She gasps, begging and pleading for her release. He slows his thrust, leaving her in agony. She bucks her hips towards him, but he pushes them down, locking her in place with his strong arm.

“I fucking hate you.” She moans.

“Cum for me then, and we can see if that is how you feel for me after.” His thrusts go back to their fast, sloppy pace, and she moans. Her hands grab his wrist, clawing her nails into his forearm.

She hits her peak and moans his name repeatedly. Her fingers dig into the snow again, the other hand digging into his arm. He growls, not stopping and continuing to thrust.

“Stop it.” She whispers, her body shaking at the sensitivity. Cregan doesn’t listen, only maintaining his harsh pace. He lifts both of her legs to his chest, his length touching her womb. “Please, Cregan, fuck!” She whines, tears spilling from her eyes at the overstimulation.

Her fists hit his chest, and yet he continues. She slaps him across the face, over and over again, and he still continues, his face stoic, desperate for nothing more than to see her writhing beneath him.

She sobs as she cums on him again, slapping and hitting him harshly. Her body is a trembling mess, peaking with pleasure and pain. Finally satisfied, he lets his own peak wash over him, filling her to the brim with his seed again, right against her womb. He rests over her, moaning and biting her neck, despite her nails scratching and drawing blood against his neck.

“Cunt.” She moans into his shoulder, holding him tightly against her shaking body. He pulls out, gently, allowing her to rest before he carries her back into the cave, stepping into the hot spring with her in his arms.

She rests against him, and it’s as if they had never been apart. He looks over at their sleeping babe on the ground, smiling gently. He looks back down at his love, his smile fading.

“There is a war brewing in Westeros.” He finally tells her.

“What for this time?” She asks, drawing little shapes on his chest, not seeming to really care about his answer.

He decides to wait to tell her, instead wanting to enjoy the moment with her.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you… before I left.” He says. She sighs.

“Cregan… Do you wish to know why I killed the Lord Commander?”

He looks down at her, confused. He assumed her only reason was she hated crows. She looks up at him.

“Why?” He asks.

She waits before explaining. “He’d come out there before with some of his men. They often hunted wildlings for fun. They’d tell the men back at the wall it was for a hunting exhibition, but really… They were tired of the women from some place called Mole’s Town.”

Cregan was still confused.

“That was years ago, when I was in a tribe… But, the crows just kept coming back… And our tribe refused to leave, because our ancestors had settled there hundreds of years before.” She pauses, “The Lord Commander always said I was his favorite… I left eventually. Turns out I’m safer alone. That’s when I started killing crows.”

Cregan realized he was gripping her arm too tightly, and loosened his hold. What she said changed everything. Men were coming beyond the Wall to force themselves on wildling women. He wanted to be sick. Cregan’s last words to her before he left… that he would kill her for what she did.

Anger ignited inside him, but there was nothing he could do. The Lord Commander was dead, she got her revenge. But, the thought of that happening to her, the words he spoke before he left her alone. It was too much.

She noticed his tension, and placed her hand on his cheek. “My wolf.” She whispered. He closed his eyes and turned away from her touch.

“I’ve failed you… Again, and again, and again.” He says, tears spilling from his eyes.

She straddles him, forcing him to look at her. “Aye. You have.” He looks at her, not expecting brr bluntness. She wipes his tears. “But you’re still mine, Cregan Stark… and I’m not perfect either.”

He presses a soft kiss to her lips, wrapping his arms around her.

“So, what were you saying about the war?” She asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“There is a war forming between the dragons. It is growing more and more dire.”

“Dragons?” She asked. “Like in the stories?”

“Aye, my lady. Except these are no stories. The dragons are dancing, and the North must stand ready to fight with the true Queen.”

“Queen?” She asks. “Aren’t you King in the North?”

“No, my love. Starks bent the knee over a century ago.”

She leans back to look at him. “Bend the knee to me.”

“I do every time I stick my cock in you.” She laughs, a sweet and gentle laugh, no longer the chaotic one she used to do.

“You’re different.” He says, a smile on his face.

“I am a mother now. My child has softened my witch heart.” She jests.

Mother. The mother to his child, specifically. He couldn’t ask her to lead the gray beards no longer. She needed to return to Winterfell with him to raise their son. His smile fades and she notices.

“You’re different.” She repeats his words. “Why did you come? Truly?”

“You are a warrior… and the North must stand ready.” He looks at her, his eyes worried.

“You… You want me to fight?” She asks, stepping off him and standing. The water stops at her hips, and he tries hard to keep his attention focused on her face. “Just a moon after I nearly died pushing out your fat little babe?”

“No, no, my lady. I do not want you fighting no longer.” He looks at her, taking her hands in his. “I want you to come home… with me. To Winterfell.”

“My home is the North.” She says, taking her hand away.

“No, no.” He stands, resting his hands on her arms. He looks over at their sleeping son. “He changes everything.”

His son would be considered a bastard, by all traits, but he was his son nonetheless. He would raise him as a Stark… as his heir to Winterfell.

“Home is not a place.” Cregan says. “A home is what you make it… My place may be in Winterfell, but it is not my home if you and my son are not with me.”

She sighs. “I’m no lady, Cregan.”

“I know… and I don’t care.”

“I will not watch you marry a noble while I am your whore that you force to work in your castle and fuck at night.”

“I would never ask that of you.” Cregan says, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. “Starks are honorable men. You will be my wife, and my son will be my heir. I will kill any man who ever dares harm you again.”

She stares at him as he continues. “I needed an excuse to come back out here… If I told them I came out here to get you to lead the Northern army, then it raised less suspicion. But, I care no longer. I only care about you.”

“What if I say no? That I won’t join you?” She asks.

“Then I would accept.” He looks at his son. “All I ask is you let me bring him.”

She looks at their son. Cregan continues. “He will never know a cold night, he will learn to fight among men, he’ll have a full belly every time he goes to sleep, he’ll be respected by all those around him… and if you came, so would you.”

She looks back at Cregan. “He will join you.”

Cregan closes his eyes, her hand resting against his cheeks.

“As will I.” He opens them to look at her again.

“Truly?” She nods. He laughs, breathlessly, pulling her in for a deep hug. His fingers weave into her hair, holding her tightly against his chest.

“I will fight for you as well.” He pulled away to look at her.

“No.” He says. “No, I need you with me at Winterfell.”

“Cregan… A queen! You honor me, choosing me to lead your Northern army.”

“I don’t want you to.” He says. “What of our son? You could be gone for years… You could not return.”

She laughs, “My Lord Stark… You’d be a bloody fool to think any man could kill me.”

“This is hardly a war between men, my girl. This is a war between dragons, and none will ever be so bloody.”

“Cregan… I am of the free folk, which means I will always be free. Being free means I have the choice to fight for you… and for a Queen.”

———

Cregan returned to Winterfell a week later, carrying his babe in his arms on his horse, with a wilding woman behind him.

His maester was bewildered at the sight before him. “My Lord… Who is this babe you carry?”

“Maester, this is my son and this woman here is his mother… and my betrothed. She will be leading the graybeards in the war. Call upon wet nurses and maids to help foster our son while she is gone.”

“A-At once, My Lord.” The maester stumbled over his words, giving the wildling one last look before going to do his task.

Later that night, her and Cregan sat in his chambers. His lover couldn’t help but explore and ask questions about everything in the castle.

“What is this?”

“A pen and paper.”

“What does it do?”

“Well, you tell the maester a message and then he writes it down and gives it to a raven to send off.”

“And this?”

“A tub.”

“What does it do?”

“Bathes you.” It went on like this for hours, but he didn’t care. He was glad to share with her his way of life. Her naiveness at noble life was sweet.

When they cuddled up in his furs in their now shared bed, she laughed with giddiness. “Ask them to bring more.”

“My love, you’re under four bear pelts and the hearth is at full flame, you’re going to get hot.”

“Hot?”

“Warm, my girl. Too warm.”

“I don’t care. This is all so exquisite. You should’ve brought me here much sooner, you know.”

Cregan simply smiled, looking down at their son in his arms. “Did you have any names in mind for him?”

She hums, resting on her elbow to face them. “Cregan is quite a handsome name.”

“We can name give him a Stark name if you like mine.”

“Like what?”

“How about… Benjen Stark.”

“Benjen.” She whispered, sitting up and touching her son’s dark locks. “I love it.”

Her and Cregan locked eyes, staring at each other in silence. “You don’t have to go, my love.”

“I do.” She says, cradling Cregan’s cheek.

“I wish to marry you, make you Lady Stark of Winterfell.”

“I will be your… Lady… when I return.” She says, unsure of the proper term to use.

He laughs, “Wife. You will be my wife. I can have the maester teach you to read and write upon your return.”

“Truly?” She asks. “Like stories?”

“Stories, history, anything my betrothed wishes to read she can.”

“Betrothed?”

“It means we’re to be wed, at some point.”

She presses her forehead to Cregan’s. “I can’t believe I am here.”

“Neither can I, my love.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and they fell asleep like that, Benjen full and warm in his father’s arms.

Cregan and his love were only able to share a few nights together before it was time for her to march with the graybeards.

“You are strong, my lady. Command these men like you did me, and they’ll follow you anywhere.”

Cregan lifted her onto her horse, and she nervously settled into the saddle. He stepped onto his own, Benjen tightly secured to his chest as the babe was to his mother when Cregan stumbled back upon them.

She took her hand in his, and he pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Come back safe to me, my girl.”

She smirked, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kill some Southerners.”

“Goodbye, my sweet boy.” She says, touching Benjen’s hair one last time.

“Take care of our son, Cregan.” He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“I have a gift for you before you go.”

His master at arms came to him, handing him the freshly made dire wolf crest. He pinned it on her chest, and she looked down, tracing her fingers over the craftsman ship.

“You are a Stark… from this day, until your last day.” He said. She looked at Cregan, pride in her face.

“I’ll make you proud, my Lord Stark.”

He handed her the dagger, the very thing that brought them together. “I know you will.”

With that, she turned and slowly began to leave with her horse.

She turned to look back at them. “By the way, I killed your horse last year.”

Cregan’s smile faded, but then she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. She turned back around, and he looked down at his son, his beautiful little pup. The babe’s big gray eyes staring back at the ones he inherited from his father.

Cregan rode the opposite direction from her. He turned again to look at her one last time, and she turned to look at him too.

He smiled at her, letting the tears fall. She smiled back. He watched her ride the opposite way, and she watched him as he rode back to Winterfell until they could no longer see each other.

He would miss her greatly, but he knew she would return. This parting would not be forever, for they knew that they were bonded by love, seperated by only distance this time. No wall, no duty, no pain would ever come between them again.

He couldn’t wait for her to get back to them so they could start their life together.

Forever.

#Spotify #hotd #hotd season 2 #house stark #hotd cregan #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #cregan smut #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #winter is coming #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic

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mossyivy · 13 days ago

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An answered prayer || K. Wagner x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Content Warning: Christmas stuff, fluff and a sprinkle of jealous Kurt

Words: 1.2k

Authors Note: This is an anon request, I believe? Might have Lost a name on accident, oopsies... Enjoy <3 And Happy Holidays!!!

Christmas, what a wonderful time of year. The fire's lit, holiday music playing as the rest of the team enjoys the annual party and secret Santa exchange. Holding his own gift from his dear sister in his lap. Trying to focus on anything but the sight he's transfixed on.

He's supposed to be blue, feeling the sharp green of envy pulling at the edges of his being as he stares down their leader. Grinning wide as he hands over your gift. Watching you rip away at the shiny silver wrapping paper across the common room, hearing you loudly gasp.

Probably something practical and thoughtful... Typical Scott.

And now you're gushing over some stupid cable-knit sweater as you put it to your front. Pulling Scott into a tight embrace as he, albeit awkwardly, hugs you back with a tight smile. Kurt can feel his brows pin together, tail flicking against his own calves in irritation. He knows he has no real right to be jealous. You're not his. Not officially, at least.

You're aware of each other's feelings and have been on a few dates even. But with his duties to the council in Genosha, he hardly gets to see you unless it's fairly important or the occasional time off. Which, obviously, he hates, holding a candle for you for the longest time now.

Kurt sighs, turning his attention back to the fire, arms crossed over his chest as he takes in the dancing flames in the fireplace as everyone buzzes around him. The sound of the party makes it hard to think of anything but your smile crossing his mind.

Sighing, he stands from the couch, heading outside into the cold. Standing out on the back step of the mansion. Looking across the beautiful blanket of fresh white snow just fallen earlier that morning. The inky night sky filled with stars for once over the trees.

That feeling of jealousy still not leaving him. Heart beating against his chest as he takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes as his hands pressed together, a huff of cloudy air escaping him as he softly prayed to himself.

"Heavenly Father, give me the strength to resist the temptation of jealousy. Help me to trust in Your plan and to find contentment in Your provision... She knows not what she does to me, and I know a devil like me isn't supposed to ask for anything... But all I want is her... Bless my friends, bless my dear family, and please, Lord, bless mein Schatz. Amen."

The door creaks open behind him, yellow eyes cutting through the darkness as he looks back to see you standing at the door, arm behind your back with that sweet smile he's come to love.

"Am I interrupting something?" You ask softly, a half smile coming to his lips as he shakes his head, waving you to come outside.

Coming out, you close the door gently, stepping over to him with a quiet kind of grace. Silence filling the air as you both look out into the night sky. So close together, you can feel Kurt's body heat from just being next to him.

It's now or never...

Clearing your throat, you meet his eyes, moving your arm from behind your back. A cute little bag with two kids building a snowman together hanging off your fingers. Blue, sparkling tissue paper billowing from the top with a tiny tag hanging from the handle.

"Merry Christmas..." He looks a little dumbfounded, looking down at the bag before taking it in his palms.

"My sister, she... gave me a gift already?" You chuckle with a nod.

"I know, I got Remy for the Secret Santa. Gave him this really nice deck of cards I found when we had a mission overseas a few weeks ago, but I wanted to give you something too... Special people deserve special gifts." He thanked God in that moment; it was dark out, and you'd see his entire face turn purple as he blushed.

"I... didn't get you anything." You just shrug, not honestly caring about it in the long run.

"My gift can be the look on your face when you open yours. Come on." You nudge the side of the bag, making him look it over. Taking note of how you crossed out "from" on the attached card and wrote "love" instead. Making his stomach do an involuntary flip. Moving the tissue paper away, he pulls out a flat square box, glancing up at you with a small scoff.

"This isn't going to be dozens of tiny boxes, is it?" You tap his shoulder with a roll of your eyes.

"Just open it!" He smiles, pulling the lid away. Face falling as the dim light catches the shiny silver circle pendant. A piece of ivory in the middle with their initials engraved together. He feels his chest tighten, looking up into your eyes in shock.

"I thought it would look good next to your rosary... And you always talk about how we don't get enough time together... Now I can be with you all the time in some way." His eyes fall back to the box, quickly pulling out the necklace and inspecting it closer.

"This... This is beautiful. And so thoughtful..."

"Well, it's just something I thought you needed... Plus, I... I've been wanting to talk to you about something." His eyes shoot back up to you. Looking into your eyes with a hint of disbelief.

"About what?"

"Us." His eyes widen, mouth opening like a fish as you close the gap, pressing your hand to his cheek with an affectionate stroke of your thumb.

"You mean so much to me, Kurt, and it's been killing me to not... Be with you. I miss you constantly and can't stop thinking about you all the time." His free hand drifts over yours on his cheek with a content sigh.

"I can't stop thinking about you either... I don't want you to think that it's necessary for us to be together if we're—" You silence him, kissing him with a tender touch he's never felt before. His head tilts, pressing into you, hand traveling to snake his arm around your waist. Pulling you even closer to his warm frame with a fondness he could only hold for you.

Lips separate, the shared warmth between you almost suffocating to a degree.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that, mein Schatz... Merry Christmas." Leaning back in, your lips connect briefly before there's a bang at the door, making you both nearly jump out of your skin.

It's Gambit at the door with a grin on his face, Rogue behind him with a soft giggle as she covers her mouth with a gloved hand. Quickly you turn away from their prying eyes, feeling your face heat up as the thick Cajun drawl pours through the glass.

"Dinner's on the table, lovebirds! Time's ticking' before Cyclops has that aneurysm if you two don't move." He laughs before walking back towards the dining room, arm around Rogue as they disappear. You sigh, rubbing your cheeks to make the heat go away, Kurt only smiling wider as he slips his present box back in the bag. Holding up the necklace, he gives it one last look before turning your face back to look at his.

"Could you help me put this on so I can show my gift to everyone, mein Schatz?"

All content on this page is fictional and I do not condone the acts I enjoy in a fictional sense. I don't consent to my work being reposted or translated.

#x men #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner x fem reader #xmen x reader #x men 97 #kurt wagner #nightcrawler x reader #Nightcrawler x fem reader #nightcrawler

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claramelooo · 24 days ago

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Heyy! My dear! I'm so excited for the Christmas! So, leave in the comments (or send me an anon quest, if you feel more confortable) any scenes, moments or something you really want to see between Wanda and R. Maybe Santa will realizes your desires...

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NFSW, Blood

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat fem reader

Summary: Being at Wanda's home can be very...intense.

VELVET CHAINS

Pure Crimson

It was a sunny afternoon, so hot that you could see the heat haze blurring the landscape. You were at Wanda's house while your parents were in Greece. Not that you minded staying away from them—you had been distant for so long that you'd forgotten what the word "family" even meant.

The days at the Maximoff household had been an emotional rollercoaster. The environment was both warm and intimidating, and you were still adjusting to the unique dynamics of that family.

Your relationship with Billy and Tommy started off hesitantly, like strangers crossing paths in neutral territory. On the first day, while Wanda was busy in the kitchen and Vision was lost in his own thoughts, you sat on the living room couch, trying to look casual as the boys played with Lego pieces scattered across the floor.

Billy was the first to break the ice, shy but curious. “Do you like Star Wars?” he asked, holding up a small Lego spaceship, waiting for a response that might bridge the gap.

“I do! But I don’t really understand spaceships. Do you?” you replied, leaning forward with genuine interest.

His face lit up with the kind of enthusiasm only kids can show. “I’m the best spaceship builder in the galaxy!” He started explaining in detail how he had constructed each part, and soon Tommy joined in, adding comments about the spaceship's imaginary speed.

The initial connection was timid but quickly grew over the following days. You realized the way to earn the twins’ trust was to genuinely care about what they loved. They didn’t need grand promises or long speeches—just someone who truly wanted to spend time with them.

On the second day, Tommy challenged you to a video game match. “Bet you can’t beat me,” he teased with a mischievous grin. You accepted the challenge, and even though you weren’t very skilled, you played with enthusiasm. Tommy laughed so hard when you pressed the wrong button and sent your character tumbling off a cliff that tears rolled down his cheeks.

“You’re terrible at this!” he exclaimed, but there was no cruelty, only joy. And when you finally managed to win a round—by sheer luck—the two boys cheered for you like you had just won a trophy.

That same day, while Wanda was baking strawberry pie in the kitchen, you decided to help Billy with a school art project about national folklore figures. He was frustrated that his drawing wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. “I’m never going to get this right,” he grumbled, nearly crumpling the paper.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect; it can be unique,” you said, picking up the pencil and showing him how to add simple details to turn what seemed like a mistake into something creative. “See? It’s all about perspective.” You gave him a bright smile, and he looked at you with genuine admiration.

A particularly vulnerable moment sealed their trust. Tommy had hurt his knee playing soccer in the backyard—a nasty scrape. While Wanda was busy elsewhere, you cleaned his wound carefully, speaking soothing words. “You’re a warrior, Tommy. This is nothing for someone as strong as you.” He smiled through his tears and held your hand as if finding strength in it.

That night, as you were getting ready for bed, Billy called out to you. “Y/n, you’re like the big sister we never had.” Tommy agreed, and the two hugged you tightly before heading to their room.

From that moment on, it was as if an invisible bond connected you to them. They sought you out for everything—from playing games to asking for advice. More than that, they embraced you as part of their lives, and you realized that, in some way, you needed them as much as they seemed to need you.

Vision, however, was a different challenge. Always polite and courteous, but there was something about his demeanor, the way his eyes seemed to analyze your every move, that left you uneasy. Perhaps it was the contrast with Wanda, whose gaze seemed to devour you, while Vision’s felt like judgment.

One afternoon, you found him in the kitchen, organizing documents in a folder while sipping coffee. When you walked in, he glanced up briefly, offering a polite but cold smile.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice controlled.

“Good afternoon,” you replied, unsure.

Silence quickly settled, heavy and awkward. You searched for something to say, anything to break the invisible wall.

“The boys are excited about tonight’s dinner,” you commented, referring to Billy and Tommy, who had insisted you help pick the menu.

Vision simply nodded, his expression unchanged. “They grow attached easily,” he remarked, emotionless. “Especially to people… different.”

You felt the insinuation but had no time to respond before the sound of Tommy and Billy’s hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Billy exclaimed, running up to you with a huge smile. “Look what we made!”

He showed you a colorful drawing of you, him, Tommy, and even Wanda sitting around a large dinner table. In the corner of the paper, Vision was there too, but noticeably outside the circle.

“You’re part of our family now!” Tommy said, laughing as he clung to your side.

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love it, Billy. It’s amazing!”

“It really is,” Wanda said, walking into the kitchen with an amused expression as she looked at the drawing. “It seems you’re stealing their hearts.”

Tommy hugged your waist, looking at Vision with a mischievous grin. “We love you. Are you going to live with us now?” the boy asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Tommy,” Vision said firmly.

“What?” the boy asked innocently.

You crouched down to Tommy’s height, a gentle smile on your face. “I can’t, sweetheart. I already have a home...” you replied, awkwardly trying not to stumble over your words under Vision’s intense gaze.

Tommy pouted, but Billy quickly approached with another drawing in hand. This one showed you holding what seemed to be a tray of cookies, surrounded by the twins. “This is you, taking care of us. Because you make the best gingerbread cookies in the world.”

“Billy, I just helped! You guys made the cookies,” you laughed, knowing it wasn’t true—you had done everything from the dough to the baking. The twins had only decorated, but you’d say anything to see their smiles.

“It doesn’t matter! You’re the best helper,” he declared confidently, as if it were a universal fact.

Across the room, Wanda watched the scene with a soft smile. Her eyes shifted between the twins and you, as if capturing every detail of the moment.

“It’s true, Y/n,” Wanda said warmly. “You have a way with them that even I can’t compete with.”

Tommy quickly shot back, “Of course not, Mom! We love you too. But it’s different.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as if feigning offense. “Different how, exactly?”

Billy was quick to defend. “You’re the boss of us! But Y/n makes things feel more fun.”

Wanda’s laughter filled the room, a carefree sound that seemed to brighten the entire atmosphere. She glanced at you, her eyes a mix of amusement and admiration.

Vision, however, seemed out of place. He cleared his throat, drawing the twins’ attention. “Boys, you know family is a... fixed concept. One shouldn’t create expectations based on...”

“Don’t start, Dad,” Tommy interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, we know how we feel,” Billy added firmly.

You looked at Wanda, expecting a more severe reaction, but instead, she was smiling indulgently. “They have strong opinions, Vision. Perhaps we should accept that Y/n is important to them.”

Vision hesitated, his discomfort clear, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy took the opportunity to hug you again. “So that’s it. You’re part of our family now.”

You laughed, touched by his sincerity, and looked at Wanda, who gave a small nod, as if silently confirming what Tommy had said. The warmth in your chest at that moment was indescribable but undeniably real.

Billy grabbed your hand, pulling you along. “Come on! Let’s play!”

You didn’t have a chance to resist as he and Tommy led you to the living room, leaving Vision and Wanda behind.

In the living room, the boys showed you their game cards, taught you crazy rules only they understood, and laughed until they fell over as you tried to keep up with their energy.

In the middle of the game, Tommy flopped onto the couch, tired, and looked at you with shining eyes. “You’re not leaving, right?”

“Not anytime soon,” you said, ruffling his hair.

Billy approached and gently took your hand, his expression unusually serious. “Mom has never seemed this happy before,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken weight. You looked at him and then at Tommy, your heart tightening in your chest. They were such sweet kids, their affection for you so pure and genuine that it stirred something deep within you—a mix of gratitude and protectiveness.

Moments later, Wanda appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Her presence filled the room effortlessly, and when your eyes met hers, there was an intensity in her gaze, a possessiveness barely masked by her enigmatic smile.

“It’s good to see you all getting along so well,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“She’s the best!” Tommy blurted out enthusiastically, and Billy nodded in earnest agreement.

“Yeah. She really is,” Wanda echoed, her words laced with an edge of certainty as her eyes lingered on you. Her smile deepened, enigmatic and knowing, as though she saw something in you that even you hadn’t recognized yet.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a light, genuine sound that filled the room. A warmth spread through your chest, a comforting sense of belonging. For the first time in days, amidst all the uncertainties, it felt like you’d found your place—at least with the twins. And, perhaps, with Wanda too.

[...]

The house was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall in the living room. Wanda lay on the bed, but sleep felt like an ever more distant possibility. Vision’s steady, peaceful breathing beside her only highlighted the contrast with the storm raging in her mind.

You were there. In the room next door. So close that she could almost feel your presence, like an electric current humming through the walls.

For the third time, Wanda rolled over, burying her face into the pillow, trying to convince herself not to think about you. But the harder she tried to push the thoughts away, the more vivid they became.

She could recall every detail—how you bit your lower lip in concentration while helping the boys with their homework, the laugh that made warmth bloom in her chest, the shy way your eyes met hers when you tried to mask your nervousness. It was unbearable how much you had invaded her thoughts, staking a claim on every corner of her mind as if it all belonged to you.

Wanda sighed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something that made her feel both vulnerable and invincible. It was a sweet yet corrosive obsession.

“Why do you do this to me?” she murmured into the darkness, her voice a whisper tinged with frustration.

Her fingers clenched the sheet as a dangerous idea began to take shape in her mind. It wasn’t unreasonable, she tried to convince herself. Just a quick check to make sure you were okay. That was perfectly justifiable, wasn’t it?

But deep down, she knew it was a lie. The truth was, your proximity was driving her mad. Every second without seeing you felt like torture. The image of you, likely curled up under the blankets, your face serene in peaceful sleep, was almost irresistible.

With a sudden motion, Wanda sat up in bed, sharp enough that Vision mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. She cast a quick glance at him, but he remained in a deep slumber. Perfect.

She knew this was dangerous, that it crossed any reasonable boundary. But you were so close, and Wanda couldn’t fight the pull anymore. Not when the thought of having you felt so… inevitable.

Quietly, she slipped out of the bedroom, her bare feet making barely a sound against the floor. She hesitated for a brief moment in front of your door, her hand hovering over the handle as anticipation and longing swirled in her chest.

When she finally opened the door, a soft, almost predatory smile played on her lips as her eyes found you.

“Wanda?” your voice was lower than you intended, almost a whisper.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she moved closer, each step heightening the tension in the room. When she reached your bedside, she leaned down, her face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth radiating from her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, almost a groan.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right response. Wanda’s smile deepened, but there was a hunger in it, something that made your breath catch. Before you could think, she leaned closer still, her lips brushing against yours so lightly it was almost imperceptible.

“You’re in my head,” she whispered against your mouth, her breath warm and intoxicating. “Your scent is everywhere in this house.”

The air between you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken intensity. And in that moment, everything else faded away.

Your heart raced, and you tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Wanda didn’t wait. Her lips pressed against yours—firm, demanding—and you felt the full force of her presence in that kiss.

There was urgency in her touch, a hunger that had clearly been restrained for far too long. Her hands rose to cradle your face, holding you exactly where she wanted.

You felt trapped, but it wasn’t a trap you wanted to escape. When she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, the intensity in her eyes sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“I needed that,” she murmured, her lips still so close to yours that it was hard to breathe.

“Wanda…” you began, but she silenced you with a finger against your lips. “Vision is in the next room,”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, you can think about whatever you want. But right now… right now, you’re mine.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, and all the tension, all the air seemed to vanish from the room.

Her lips were warm and soft, but there was more—something raw, a palpable hunger, a need that felt as if it might consume you whole. The kiss started firm but quickly deepened, turning more explorative. Her tongue brushed against yours, pulling a sigh from your throat, a sound that seemed to ignite something primal in her.

Wanda’s hands slid from your face to your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve tuned to her presence. Heat pulsed through you, mingling with the adrenaline that made your heart pound in your chest.

She pulled you closer, so close you could no longer tell where you ended and she began. The urgency in her movements was intoxicating, yet there was a tenderness, a sense of restraint as if she were testing the limits.

Your hesitant hands rose to her shoulders, clutching the soft fabric of her pajamas. Wanda let out a low sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and the sheer intensity of it left your legs feeling weak, even though you were lying down.

When she finally pulled back, it was only far enough for you to catch your breath. Her eyes remained locked on yours, dark and glowing with a mix of desire and an unshakable sense of control.

You tried to speak, but your voice failed, your mind still spinning from the sensations. Wanda tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips, as if she understood exactly what she was doing to you.

“You feel it, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending shivers cascading through you.

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, slower this time, almost reverent. It was as though she were leaving an imprint, marking every part of you, making herself impossible to forget.

She’s undeniably beautiful.

"Take off your clothes." She demands, and you're jolted back to reality. Her eyes pierce into yours, holding a glimmer of something you can’t quite place. You want to know more about her; you feel so off-balance. To avoid a disapproving look, you immediately take off the nightgown and wait for further instructions as she slowly walks around you.

The way the woman moves, the way she looks at you, reminds you of a panther stalking its prey. Wanda eyes you from head to toe, assessing you. She's behind you, and you can feel her gaze roaming over your body. Chills run up your arms in anticipation of what’s coming next, and the urge to turn around and face her is hard to suppress. "Lie down, Dekta. Mommy's going to take care of this."

You shiver at how close the words are whispered against your neck, internally chastising yourself as heat builds in your core. It feels like you're waiting for your own demise as her green eyes scrutinize you once more. You’ve never felt more like prey.

You hate how passive it feels. Your body is tense with the uncertainties this night will bring, not going unnoticed by the older woman. "Sweetheart…" now her voice is soft, just like the Wanda from earlier. "You're so tense." She brushes your face with her fingertips, noticing your shivers.

"I… I've never done this." you murmur softly—a mix of fear and shame. Wanda feels weak seeing you so vulnerable. Giving you a calm smile, she lowers her hands to stroke your forearm—a soothing gesture. "I know, my sweet. We don't have to do anything you don't want." Wanda lies on top of you, resting her head in the curve of your neck—her breath tickling your ear. "I just want to show you… how good this can feel."

She leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbone—making you let out a shaky breath. “Do you trust me?” And there it was, that question again. “I do, Mommy.”

Wanda's hands take on a life of their own—stroking you, squeezing and massaging your curves, making you need her more and more. Needed for your touch.

She wanted you to get used to being touched like this, she wanted to get you ready to beg for her and for her hands.

Wanda's mouth and hands leave you inert—all the stimuli she was presenting to you took you to another dimension. Your pussy hurt, and you started to feel the need to ease it.

“Wands…” your voice came out shrill, as if you were slowly dying. The woman's warm lips worked on the back of his neck, biting and sucking passionately on the spot. “Hmm, what’s up, little girl? Do you want to say anything to mommy?”

Wanda moves away from your neck to look at you—making you miss the heat applied to the area. As you look at her, your heart skips a beat to see the expression of pleasure on the woman's delicate face—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and her bangs were messy—sexy and even wild.

With a little courage, you steal Wanda's lips for yourself—surprising the woman who decides to let you command the kiss, encouraging her confidence to blossom in her personality, like a flower that grows with the help of the sun.

Wanda would be your sun.

“H-it hurts.” you confess softly, with a husky voice—throwing your hips up, making your hot core rub against Wanda's thigh.

“I know, Dekta. I know… “ she murmured with difficulty, feeling the stickiness of your precious pussy sliding down her thigh with ease. “Mommy will make it go away, yes?” Wanda felt insane, at that moment, she would give you anything you wanted.

“Mommy…” you mumbled, equally crazy.

The woman, upon hearing this delicious title, began to lower her body until she was face to face with her sweet pussy. It was possible to see the stain of her juices wetting her panties. Letting out a shaky, excited breath, Wanda leans in closer to smell him—sweet and spicy, like sandalwood flower.

Wanda's few sexual experiences were never intense, always filled with normality. She hadn't married as a virgin, but still, all the men that came into her life didn't do justice to you.

The woman's unsteady hands cling to her thighs, squeezing for some comfort—she had never done this, after all. When the bittersweet taste reaches the taste buds of her tongue, Wanda moans and pushes her head against her pussy.

“Mmm…” She moans with her mouth working on her clit. Wanda seemed to have discovered a new world, one she didn't want to leave.

“Oh, please…” The enveloping tongue made circular movements, making you reach the edge, perhaps faster than normal. "Mommy!"

You shouted, making Wanda give you a dirty look.

“Be quiet!” She slaps your cheek, which tingles all over your face, warming you up even more—and which makes you push even harder against Wanda, offering yourself to her like a flower in full bloom.

“It’s hard… It’s so good.” your rolling eyes only showed Wanda how much of a stupid little bitch you were who couldn't follow a simple command. “I need… more!” His voice came out in a drawn out, needy whine.

Wanda growls against his sex, her focus never wavering. “What else, little one? More of Mommy’s tongue, sucking and licking that needy little bud of yours until you cry?” she asks, her voice muffled by her flesh.

“Or maybe it’s Mommy’s fingers you’re craving, plunging deep into that tight virgin pussy.” The woman's broken voice brought words that provoked you in a way that made you reach levels of pleasure you never imagined.

“Tell mommy what you need to scream her name like the stupid slut you are.” You roll your eyes when you hear such degrading words.

“I don’t know… it’s weird, but it’s so gooood!” Your only reaction—or instinct, is to rub himself against her even more. In cruel sadism, Wanda stops the stimuli abruptly, making you let out a frustrated groan.

“Ask, pet. If you want to get what you want, learn to ask for it…” she hummed, as if it was just a game for her.

You huffed, no patience for games.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers inside me.” His honesty hit the woman like a punch. And certainly witnessing Wanda falter at just his words did things to your ego.

Wanda positions her finger well, first, massaging, making you feel it. As soon as her middle finger finds your entrance, you tense against her.

“Shhh, dekta, it’s okay” she whispers against his forehead, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Will it hurt a lot?” Her lower lip trembles, her tone seems to seek a reassurance that only Wanda could offer.

“Just a little…” She promises you, looking deep into your eyes, and you nod, giving permission.

At first glance, the finger inside you seemed to burn, tearing you open and opening you up for Wanda to use that little hole as she pleased. You heard the woman growl against your mouth, then kiss you savagely.

Wanda, as excited as you, begins to rub herself against your sex while still thrusting inside you and feeling your finger being chewed completely by your hot flesh.

“So tight,” she growled, as she ground against you and bit your lip.

“Greedy little girl. Do you want mommy’s pussy?” You nodded without thinking twice. “You’re a vessel for my pleasure, a stupid little toy for me to use and abuse… and you love every moment of it, don’t you, little slut?” The woman's words dripped with promises of a corrosive, dangerous, dark desire.

You nod and push your hips even further—both for the friction of your pussies, but for Wanda's finger that is sinking even deeper into you.

“Mmm, yes… just like that, you filthy slut.” The woman's nails dug into her waist, creating half-moon marks. “Oh. Honey, mommy is almost there…” She moans wildly, taking her finger out of you—bringing you a feeling of emptiness.

The pussy rubbing was genuinely delicious. A unique place in the world that you two never wanted to leave. But it's when Wanda bites your nipple that makes you moan loudly and come hard—so hard that Wanda can swear when she feels your pussy tremble against hers.

Wanda falls on her side, desperately searching for breath. You think it's funny and laugh softly. The woman just arches her eyebrow.

“The problem is… I’m already an old lady. I don’t have much energy left!” Wanda’s excuse only made her seem even more adorable in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You kissed her nose, letting your affection flow through the small gesture, offering her as much comfort as you could muster.

Wanda exhaled, a sound somewhere between exhaustion and contentment, as she shifted in bed to face you. Her hair was messy, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glimmered with a warmth that made your heart melt.

“Beautiful, huh?” she repeated, a soft smile curving her lips. “I think you’re just buttering me up so I’ll bake you more cookies.”

You laughed, finding her pout irresistibly cute.

“I’m not buttering you up; I’m just being honest,” you replied, your tone steady but tender.

She shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her as she slid her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Your bodies fit together so naturally, as though you were crafted for this moment, for each other.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with humor and a depth of affection so profound it made your eyes sting slightly.

“Good trouble or bad trouble?” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Good,” she answered without hesitation, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Too good.”

For a while, silence settled between you, a comfortable stillness broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths. You took in every detail of her: the elegant curve of her jawline, the gentle slope of her lips, and the way her lashes brushed against her cheeks like delicate whispers of her exhaustion.

“It’s all okay, you know?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

“With us,” you clarified, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to overthink or worry. I’m here. With you.”

Your words seemed to catch Wanda off guard, her smile softening into something vulnerable and raw. She looked at you as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, she cupped your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, her touch impossibly tender.

“You have no idea what that means to me,” Wanda finally said, her voice low and brimming with emotion.

“Then show me,” you whispered, leaning in to meet her lips once again, this time in a kiss so calm and intimate that it felt like sealing an unspoken promise between you.

When you finally broke apart, Wanda let out a deep sigh, as though releasing a weight she had carried for far too long. She drew you into her chest, her arms wrapping around you protectively, as though she wanted to keep you there forever.

“Sleep now, my angel,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your forehead as she held you even closer.

And so, you closed your eyes, your heart warm and full, certain that, in this moment, you were everything Wanda needed.

But as she watched your lashes flutter closed, her gaze shifted. Her hand, once tenderly cradling your face, now caught her attention—a deep crimson stain painting her fingertips. Blood. Your blood. Your purity.

Something primal and dark ignited within Wanda—a force that she couldn’t resist. Slowly, obsessively, she brought her fingers to her lips, tasting every drop as though savoring a forbidden fruit.

The warm, metallic tang of blood spread across her tongue, and instead of disgust, a raw, guttural moan escaped her lips. It was pleasure, unadulterated and feral, coursing through her with an intensity that made her tremble.

Her eyes glowed faintly, a flicker of something inhuman breaking through the surface. It wasn’t just about the taste or the act—it was about possession, about the irrevocable claim she had laid upon you.

The room was cloaked in silence, save for the sound of her labored breathing, low and almost animalistic. Her fingers, still stained red, moved over her lips, cleaning away every last trace. Her body quaked, not from fear but from the euphoria of knowing you were irrevocably hers.

Wanda leaned over you, her eyes tracing your serene features. You looked angelic, but to her, you were an angel wrapped in shadows—a contradiction so alluring it drove her to madness.

With trembling fingers, she gently touched your lips, the faintest smear of crimson left behind. Her touch was tender, reverent, yet stained by the chaos swirling within her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with a dangerous kind of adoration.

And as the night deepened, Wanda’s obsession with you solidified into something unyielding, something that would burn brightly, consuming everything in its wake.

Mine,” she whispered, the sound barely coming out but carrying a possessiveness that made the air in the room feel heavier. “You are mine now. In every way.”

~*~

Wanda got more intense after watching Twillinght New Moon....

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

@trindad2k @vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @trying-to-do-good @bees-for-brains

@eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @jazzyxqzl @sheriffhaughtearp @i-luv-w1men

#mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #lgbtq #mommy k!nk #wlw post #elizabeth olsen x reader #lgbtqia #mommy k1nk #wanda x you #bdsmkink #bd/sm community #bd/sm brat

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eccentricallygothic · 5 months ago

Text

Patience

Pairing: Daddy!Ari Levinson | Brat Baby!You.

Description: Ari decides to actually act upon his literal threats of ‘teaching your ass a lesson’ this time around.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, ddlg, power imbalance, meanie Daddy!Ari, bratty!you, allusions to spanking, size kink, strength kink, begging, humiliation, rimming, ass fingering, age gap (reader is 20’s and Ari is near 40’s), possessive!Ari, dirty talk, brat taming. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request (anon), here.

Note: Unedited because it's 5am and I have class around 10am. Forgive me for any errors. Hope you like it <3

Your hot and pouty face was buried between your arms that were folded ‘petitely’ over your boyfriend's work table even though you were anything but. “Daddy, please!” You whined and tried to shift in his beastly hold only to fail yet again. “I already said I was sorry and I already got a spankie!” You kicked your foot and complained like you had any power against him.

Ari's rough fingers only groped your stinging ass cheeks harder as he kept them spread apart for his experienced tongue to keep torturing your quivering pucker. “Nah, today is the day, baby. Buckle up” his words made you whine even louder than before and you puffed out your cheeks, your hips struggling to break free from his tyrannical grip.

“But I already said I was sorry!” You were a sensitive little thing that was used to being spoiled and treated like you were the reason the sun rose everyday, not getting your way or being rough handled was not something you were particularly accustomed to. Especially not at the hands of the grizzly kneeling behind you.

“As you have a million times before” Ari simply responded before the sharp tip of his tongue ran around your rim again before he probed the opening that was tightly wrinkled shut. As if the tiny stretches he was causing weren't uncomfortable and humiliating enough, the recent spanks on your ass made it even worse. You had no idea how, but the jerk had even managed to spank your poor little backdoor. He was lucky you loved him. “But today is the day punishment will actually teach you something, you little brat.”

You huffed and shook your disapproval out through your body. “Daddy, you're being so mean!” Your eyebrows were furrowed but you dared not look behind and at him. You were not allowed to do so, as he had ordered you to look ahead when he had begun. “It's not my fault those little boys look at me! I only have eyes for you!” You heard his snicker of disbelief.

“Yeah, right–” your eyes widened when you felt him heatedly spit on your asshole, clearly further instigated by your words, before one of his fingers began to push against your virgin rim.

“DADDY!” You panicked but Ari was unbothered. “Oh, no!” Your face burnt hot in humiliation but that didn't stop your pussy from tearing up.

“Oh, yes” Ari's guttural voice was quiet as he leaned in to lick at one of the many fingerprints he had left on your ass cheeks, the digut he had inserted in you now knuckle deep. His thick beard tickled your sensitive skin where his tongue touched you. “Only have eyes for your old man, huh? Is that why you go bowling with your silly girlfriends in those cute little shorts, hm?” He gave you a good few jabs so you would feel his knuckle butt against your rim. “Tsk, like I don't know about those foolish little boys following you around like dumb little mutts.” Okay, maybe you did like the attention.

“B- But that's not my fault, Dada! I only want you!” That was true. “You know it!” It was the reason why you liked to rile up Ari like this. Especially during periods when his stupid work took nearly all his time.

Ari began to pull his finger out and your ass humiliatingly squelched. He stopped when only the tip reached your rim. You whimpered as your pucker clenched in discomfort. “Too bad that is not going to stop me from breaking this–”

“Daddyyy!” You whined when his finger began to push into you once more.

“– bratty little ass in like I should have a long time ago” you shuddered when he added some tongue to the finger fucking. “Maybe you will finally learn some fuckin’ patience when you limp all over the place like a sorry little baby slut.”

Oh dear, oh dear.

You had a long evening to go.

And a lot of begging to do.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson drabble #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers

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t1red-twilight · 7 months ago

Note

hi i love ur writing :-))) could you write smthn about play fighting with peter :( he’d let you win fs :(

play fighting

summary: play fighting with peter parker.

content/warnings: gn! reader, fluff, play fighting, chili’s mention (i <3 chilis), i made the play fighting a little less physical, i hope that’s alright anon:)

notes: tysm! i really appreciate your support. ily<33

word count: 1.1k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

“peter, could you hand me the remote? please?” you looked over at him from where you were lounging on the couch.

he looked over at you and gave a devious crooked smile. “hmmm, no. i think the infomercial channel is rather exciting right now.”

“hand me the remote, peter.” you looked over at him with an attempted appearance of distaste, but your amusement showed through. reaching over him for the remote, you tried to keep your smile to a minimum.

before you could reach the remote, he grabbed it swiftly. you collapsed on top of him in false exhaustion. he chuckled as you stretched your hand and continued to try and take the remote from him.

you lightly hit him and he gave you a gentle shove back. this continued for some time, but you could tell he definitely was not giving his full strength in fighting you off.

eventually, you gave up trying to get the remote and face planted into his lap. muffled, you whined at him. “peter. please hand me the remote. or at least change the channel.”

“not when you look so cute trying to steal it from me.”

you groaned again. “you are such an ass, peter.”

he snorted in response, and then changed the channel.

after a long day of grueling work and dealing with insufferable people, all you were looking forward to was getting in bed and sleeping for nine hours. you had forced yourself to get out of your work attire, and you were laying with peter in bed.

suddenly, your cocoon of warmth was pulled from you. you tried to reach over and pull the duvet back over you and resume trying to sleep, but the sheets stayed put.

sitting up, you looked over at peter. he was very clearly still awake; you could tell this from his boyish grin that laid atop his face. the covers were pulled right up to his chin. he would have looked very cozy and adorable if you had not been absolutely frigid.

he peeked one eye open and shut it quickly. “peter.” you realized the game he was playing and decided to play along, even though your day was very tiring.

you laughed lightly. “oh, you ass.”

you took hold of the covers, and pulled with all your might to peel them away from peter. success! then, with them firmly in your clutches, you dove for your side of the bed and held on to them as tightly as you could with your back turned towards peter..

from the other side of the bed, you could hear peter sit up. you heard him chuckle raspily.

peter then proceeded to flop on top of you.

“pete, i can’t breathe.”

when he replied, his voice lowered. “share the covers, honey.”

“no! you’ll just steal them from me again,” your voice heightened in pitch as you ‘argued’ with him.

“mmmm, i won’t. not if you let me hold you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you pretended to think about this prospect, even though you were more than happy with his suggestion. “fine. your proposition sounds perfectly adequate.”

peter had treated you to some chili’s. when either of you would have a particularly rough week, you would have an extra date night (wednesdays were assigned date night, but sometimes extra dates were required).

you had reached the end of your meal, and after debating over who should get the last bite of lava cake, the time had come for the bill to be paid.

one look at pete and you could tell what his plan was. he reached for the tablet, but you were able to grab it long before he did.

you shoved yourself as far as you could into the wall of your side of the booth the two of you were sitting in, and desperately tried to pull your card out of your wallet. your attempts were in vain, however.

in your moment of distraction, peter nabbed the tablet out of your hold. you very stealthily tried to move your card over to the ‘tap’ portion of the tablet without peter noticing.

nonetheless, he did notice. he promptly swatted your hand away lightly.

you folded your arms over your chest in defeat. after he had completed payment, he looked at you with a victorious smile that spanned from ear to ear.

“you are such an ass. you know that, right?” you said as he stood up.

he held his hand out to help you up. “yeah, sure. if you say so darling.”

the movie that you were watching (some sci-fi that you both were meaning to watch) had not come to a close at all. in fact, it was barely past the exposition.

yet, you were falling asleep on peter’s shoulder. you had meant to stay up and alert for the entirety of the film, but your plan was failing.

peter turned his head and looked down at you. he brushed some hair off of your forehead and smiled. “all right. it’s time for bed.”

“no, i’m awake.” even as you said this, your eyes remained closed. “this is just how i watch movies.”

“you are very not awake, my love. you were almost snoring a second ago.” the timbre of his voice vibrated against your head.

you picked your head up and tried to blink the sleep out of your eyes. he had paused the movie previously when he had noticed how tired you were becoming.

you tried to snatch the remote, but he moved it out of your reach. you lightly smacked his chest. “i can stay awake, i promise.” he moved his hand to hold yours and stroked his thumb over the back of your hand. “we’ve been meaning to watch this movie. i can stay awake, i promise.”

he kissed the top of your head and chuckled. “we have the whole weekend. let’s just go to bed now, yeah?”

“please, pete. i can stay awake. scout’s honor.” your head had returned to its spot on his shoulder, and you held up your fingers in faux scout salute. you nuzzled your nose into the junction where his neck met his collarbone.

he hummed before responding. “i think it’s time for bed.”

“you are such an ass, peter.”

all he did was guide you to the bedroom and chuckle.

a couple days later, you were both in bed. “peter?”

he opened he eyes to look at you. you were laying across from him in your shared bed. “yeah? you alright?”

“you know that when i call you an ass i don’t mean it, right?” you looked into his eyes.

he exhaled out in a laugh. “of course, honey.” he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you closer to him

“okay good.” you settled into his hold. “i love you,”

“i love you too.” he pulled you in tighter.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #get the chilis lava cake. thank me later #lee’s writing <3 #peter parker fluff #andrew garfield!peter #andrew garfield!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #x reader #fluff #andrew garfield

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7ndipity · 10 months ago

Text

The Morning After

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon’s reaction to you waking up sore after a night together.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: +18 mdni, brief smut, overstimulation, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was still early when you woke up, face buried in the pillows as you lay on your stomach, the gentle sound of someone quietly humming your favorite song pulling you from sleep.

Slowly, you cracked your eyes open, searching out the owner of the familiar deep voice, smiling to yourself as your gaze fell on his half dressed figure, his back to you as he rummaged around in his closet.

Finding what he was looking for, he turned back towards the bed, stopping as he caught sight of your sleepy expression watching him.

“Hey.” Joon spoke softly, as if not wanting to wake you any further, coming to kneel in front of you.

“Hey,” You mumbled, stretching slowly. “Where're you going? It’s so early.”

“Just to the gym. Thought I’d get my workout in this morning, so we could have the afternoon together.” He said, smoothing down your hair.

You groaned. “How’re you not tired from last night? I can’t even move.” You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, that’s why I gotta keep my strength up.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Namjon!” You couldn’t stop moaning his name. “Fuck, please, Namjoon!” You cried out, feeling his length twitch and pulse inside of you with every sound that left your lips.

You’d been at it for hours, Joon pounding into you from behind as if his life depended on it, pumping into you over and over, twisting you around into every position he could think of, your bodies covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and cum.

“Agh-fuck!” You whimpered, letting your head drop to the mattress, clutching into the sheets beneath you for dear life as he slipped a hand around to circle your poor abused clit.

The feeling was so overwhelming, your whole body felt like it was on fire, every snap of his hips sending a jolt of electricity through you, causing the tension to build up inside of you at an alarming rate.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d made cum, but as he suddenly picked up the pace, slamming into you with enough force to knock the wind out of you, you could feel another rapidly approaching, tears rolled down your face as your body shook in ecstasy.

“Joonie, please, ‘s too much.” You whimpered. “ ‘m gonna cum again.”

He responded by pulling you even closer to him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he dragged you upright against his chest, impaling you on his cock.

“It’s alright, Baby, you can take it.” He panted, pressing messy, wet kisses against the back of your neck. “Just one more for me, please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding in your breath as Joon continued to pound up into your over sensitive pussy.

“F-fuck!” You cried, your body convulsing and going rigid as you came for the nth time around his cock.

"There it is." Joon groaned as you spasmed against him, holding you up as your body went limp from exhaustion. “Good job, Baby.”

Namjoon’s touch pulled your focus back to the present, tracing gently over your cheek down to your lips.

“You want me to bring back coffee and breakfast later?” He asked sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You said sleepily as he stood back up, going to finish packing his gym bag.

You moved to roll over and get out of the bed, letting out the tiniest whimper as you became fully aware of the soreness and sensitivity in your core and legs.

Joon froze at the sound, looking back at you concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little sore.” You said, trying to sound convincing as you stood up, but your legs nearly gave out under you immediately, leaving you staggering back against the bed.

Joon jumped forward, catching you before you fell properly, holding you tightly by the waist.

“Fuck, baby, I thought you were joking!” He said, startled. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think I need to take it easy today.” You admitted weakly.

Joon stared down at you, absolutely stricken as he pulled you closer, holding you gently.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said guiltily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m okay.” You tried to reassure him, but he paid you no mind, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” You asked, clinging to him in surprise.

“I am going to run you a bath, and then we’re going to do whatever else you want to do today.”

“I thought you were going to the gym?” You said curiously.

“And leave you here when you can’t even walk? No way.” He shook his head. “I’m staying here and looking after you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You said quietly, feeling shy.

“Yes, I do.” He said seriously. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

“Alright,” You replied, slightly flustered.

He kept his word, refusing to let you so much as lift a finger the rest of the day, carrying you everywhere through the house as needed and waiting on you hand and foot.

“How are you feeling?” He asked for the tenth time as you sat together watching tv after dinner, dozing on his shoulder.

“Much better.” You said, snuggling closer. “Thank you for looking after me”

“Always.” He replied, kissing the top of your head. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Can we do this again next week?” You asked, grinning up at him cheekily.

“Seriously?!” He laughed.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged.

“Aren’t you worried about your legs or anything?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief.

“Not if I have you to carry me around.” You said, grinning up at him as you looped your arms around his neck.

“Let’s just focus on you feeling better right now, okay?” He chuckled.

“Alright.” You relented, slumping back down to rest back against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He replied, watching as your eyes drooped back shut.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose

#namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts smut #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts one shot #7ndipity #bts requests

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yanderestarangel · 10 months ago

Note

hihi, i really love your writings so i'm deciding to request. could you do miguel o'hara with an ftm reader- maybe some size kink, possessiveness, breeding, and degradation? thank you and have a great day/night!

𝐔𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐈́. | MIGUEL O'HARA X MALE READER

A/N: thanks for liking my work anon, I hope you like this one too.

🕸️ 》 TW: degradation, size kink, breeding, sex without a condom, ftm reader, male pronouns, biting, possessive sex, dark smut, porn plot, some phrases in spanish, power play.

Miguel was a different spider man and perhaps the most complicated person to deal with in the entire spider society... However, he was a totally different man with you, always praising you for small victories and missions ── in an extremely possessive and strange way , after all, what differentiated you from others?... But for him, you were perfection in person, perhaps, the only variation in the entire multiverse that he felt connected enough to care about and it was that fucking unilateral connection that made you made him be in that submissive and compromising position.

You were leaning over the hard, cold technology panels of his office, the color orange standing out against your skin, as you watched the older man's thick, pulsing cock slide in and out of your pussy, making the sweetest, sweetest noises. dirty things a man could do... You were doing that moment.

Miguel grunted like a hungry animal, one of Spider-Man's hands was on your neck, his claws slightly went in and out due to the strength and emotions of anger he felt at that moment ── he saw the way you smiled at another spider variant, how you blushed when you flirted with someone else, how he could lose you if he didn't mark his territory on your body, like a sinful sanctuary.

"You can't escape me. I've been patient long enough. It's time for you to learn your place, beneath me... Mi Angelito... Always teasing me with those bright eyes and sweet ways..." He accelerated his movements, tearing off the rest of your uniform with his free hand, your breasts jumped free as he groaned as he saw them bounce with each thrust he gave into your wetness.

O'Hara's red eyes glowed as he saw you so small and fragile compared to his tall stature, he could break you, he could fuck you until you were a trembling, aching mess ── his cock barely entered your pussy whole, Your velvety walls hugged him back as if your life depended on it... And maybe it did.

"You're a fucking whore, begging for my cock, aren't you?" he taunted, his gaze met his, as he continued to gradually speed up, a white path of semen formed at the base of his cock and painted your pussy like a beautiful halo. "Look at yourself, such a naughty boy, taking my dick so well like an insatiable slut-! I'm going to breed your little pussy, mi guapo, and you'll never have any choice but to stay by my side forever... Isn't that right? You're going to be the fucking father of my children... It's a canonical event ...You cannot run away from your destiny."

Miguel moaned each word, each letter came out like a growl, an order, you were his regardless of whether it was what you wanted before or not ── however, the feeling of being so eagerly filled, the fat tip of his cock hitting your womb , and the heavy balls hitting your ass, were the most addictive narcotic drug you had tasted in years, you wanted to get out of there, but the moans, the possession phrases and the good sex he was offering you was enough to make you moan like a cheap whore, drooling on his cock, making your boss smile and show his fangs, biting your neck hard and marking you as his.

"I've wanted you for so long, ever since you joined the spider society. It took everything in me to hold back, to just be a good spider leader. But I couldn't stop myself from fantasizing about you." His words were sickening, but they made you wetter for some reason, maybe your brain rotted from the pleasure that coursed through your veins, but knowing that he had wanted you for a while made you moan and cling to him insistently.

"That's better," he grabbed your hips while supporting you even more on his control screens, not caring about the mess or damage it would cause later, everything was forgotten there, only your pussy mattered to the older man. "You finally understand your place... I knew you'd be mine, you will be mine forever." You rolled your eyes and felt your orgasm come after a few more stimulations that Miguel made with his cock in your body or with his mouth ── biting your breasts and nipples, kissing you as if nothing else existed in the world ── you felt your fingers your feet curled so hard that for seconds you swore you were going to break them, a loud moan echoed from your throat to the holographic walls, returning to O'Hara's ears, as he filled you with a hot and thick load of his cum ensuring you would take everything like a good boy.

"That's my favorite spider boy... But we're not done yet... I'm going to fuck you until you're full..." Miguel puts one of his thick fingers on your stomach. "Filled up to here, with my cum, you can handle it, right.. mi niño bonito, vas a manejar esto como un niño grande, ¿verdad?"

♡⁠˖ 》 my janitor a.i pfp

♡⁠˖ 》 my character a.i pfp

♡⁠˖ 》 my AO3 pfp

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livelaughlovesubs · 5 months ago

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guess who's back, back again, it's 🃏 anon back at it again!

so. Sampo Koski (i'm fully inclined to say his full ass name because why not, it's hilarious) recently i had a big craving for his bratty little ass, so i was thinking, maybe reader (gn or otherwise) getting way too tired of his quips and just... fucking him roughly, rough sex, bondage (or any form of BDSM), some (or a lot of) manhandling and a teensy bit of a blood (either from clawing or biting can work!) can work really well!

but honestly, go wild i don’t really mind whatsoever, i’m swamped with work right now and i just need to satisfy my needs from them lolol.

so, again, have fun with this request!

from, le 🃏 anon!

Hello hello~! Great to see you again. After two whole months, I hope you aren’t that swamped with work anymore? Haha

Dom!reader x sub!sampo - reader is gn

Warning: bondage, pegging (I use dick), rough sex, slapping, manhandling, chocking, scratching, mention of death, hair pulling, edging

It was a mistake to trust him.

Seriously, this man is wanted by the guards and owns the infamous image of a liar, how could you believe in his words? Maybe they were just too sweet, too tempting and irresistible. Even so, it doesn’t justify how stupid you were to trust him. That sweet yet two faced smile, it made you blind. I mean- how dared he scam you with low quality ropes?!

All you wanted was to buy some nice, pretty ropes, and he even gave you a discount. Then he talked big about how well he threats his customers, and that he’d personally bring it to your house. Though the moment you glanced at the item, seeing the rough texture and poor handicraft, your jaw dropped. No wonder the price was so damn cheap, this guy tried to rip you off! Who did he take you for? This won’t do, you wasn’t someone easy who’d let it slide after him apologising. You’ve been so excited to receive it after all, that’s why you had to teach him a lesson.

You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him inside, throwing him onto the ground. The rope slipped from his hands, landing next to him. A cold look in your eyes and you kicked his sides, telling him to get onto the bed. He eventually obliged, then you began stripping his clothes. Sampo let you do it with a sheepish smile and dropping eyes, chuckling satisfied. That lewd little fox just loved it when you are rough with him, when you push him around and put him in his place. Now his face was being pushed into a fluffy pillow while his ass was high in the air, kneeling basically. Wrists near his ankle as you brought the red rope closer to him, straightening it out then whispering, “hold still.”

With a swift move, you tightened the knot around his wrist, pulling with all your strength. He groaned a little and bawled his hands into fists, fully aware that there will be bruises on the next day. “Most esteemed customer~ why… are you testing your product on me?” His voice got higher towards the end, a sense of excitement hidden under the surface. “Hah, come on, we are more than just merchant and buyer.” You reminded him while giving his bare butt a harsh slap, leaving behind a red mark. “Nghh~! Ahaha! Oh y/n, you are as fascinating as ever.”

That’s right, you two have shared some intimacy before and despite the relationship you both had he still tried to scam you. “Save your flattery for later. Now, tell me, does this feel like quality ropes?” You asked him with a scorn, in the meantime opening the lit of a bottle. The tall male had a rather sarcastic expression, acting like he didn’t know. Though the answer was as clear as day. He could feel it rub against his flesh, irritating and burning his skin. It had an itchy feeling to it, yet it also hurt, causing the area around it to turn red.

A faint blush covered the cheeks of the boy. His breathing was heavy and ragged, sweat forming on his forehead. Then you grabbed his roots and yanked on his hair, making him arch his back into a crescent shape, mumbling, “answer me.” The rather rough treatment was immediately met with a loud moan, “uhhH-nNNGhhh~! Ah, be gentle, y/n..” finally he looked at you, mouth parted and tongue hanging out a little. His face also reddened by a few shades, the corners of his lips were curled into a grin.

“I take it you know what this means for you?” You sighed and asked him, squeezing a large amount of lube onto your inner palm. He acted like he didn’t know, staying quiet and making a -hmm?- sound. So you continued with, “your punishment, for deceiving me.” Then you stuck two fingers inside his hole, fingering him sloppily. “Punish.. ment? Ah-ngHhhh..! To-too rough~♡” Sampo threw his head back, his blue-white hair bouncing around. “Yes, punishment for bad boys.”

Seeing how he shuddered and shook, you deemed him prepared enough and pulled your fingers out. Afterwards you lined the tip of your length to his hole, followed by you dropping the bottle onto the ground and grabbing his waist with both hands. Holding him, making him stick his ass out some more. “Mhmm~ ha, haah… don’t hold back now, dear customer.” His breathing became even more ragged, he was obviously enjoying this. “What a fucking whore.” You chuckled, giving his bottom another squeeze, spreading his hole with two fingers before penetrating him.

You slowly pushed the tip in, noticing how his shoulders jerked upwards, the oh so familiar grin returned to his wet lips. Since he was taking this so well, you might as well speeding up the process. With one snap of your hip, you pushed the rest of it inside him, your pelvis hitting his ass. “NgGGHhh~!! Ah- f-fuck, so good, more, ha- mHm, do me harder ♡♥︎!” Sampo cried out, hands wrapped around his own ankle, grip tightening with all his might. He wanted to trash around so bad, though the restrains weren’t bulging in the slightest. Keeping him in check, unmoving and restricted.

Without wasting much time, you began moving, thrusting your dick in and out of him at a fast pace. “AhHh!” He moaned at the sensation, at you rubbing against his walls and hitting places so deep inside him that it made him see stars. Then you leaned closer to him, grabbing his hair again as you whispered into his ear, “You said harder? Let’s see if you can take it then.” After that you licked his earlobe, running your tongue all over the shell while moving your hips ruthlessly. “NGhhh! Y/nnn~! Ah, t-touch me more!” He whimpered, wanting you to show some attention to his leaking member, but you ignored him.

Instead, you opened your mouth and bit his shoulder, trying to raise the speed even more. The hand on his hip gripped him harsh enough to leave bruises, the other one accidentally ripped off some strains of hair from his scalp. You bit down even more when his voice hitched, enough to draw out some fresh drops of blood. At this point he was a withering mess, crying with such a dumb yet blissful expression on his face, his blush spread to his shoulders as well. “OoOhhhH, AHHnnHgg fuuuck!! There, r-right there, so good, fuck me more, more!!” A series of unintelligible words left him, echoing through the lust-ridden room.

The pain he felt from your rough treatment, from the newly gotten bruises and wounds all faded away the moment you found his sweet spot. Not only that, you’ve been abusing that poor area with such brutality he felt like he was gonna die. Each time the tip pressed and hammered against that spot, his head would empty themselves and more tears would fell from his eyes. Drool was hanging out of his mouth as you relentlessly pounded into him, panting and doing your best to keep the tempo up.

“Hah… this is hardly a punishment for you, isn’t it?” You scoffed under your breath, feeling a little bothered by it. That’s why you slapped and scratched his butt again, cursing out, “look at what a fucking pervert you are, Sampo koski.” After drawing some blood with your nails, you insulted him, smirking sadistic. His face was quite a sight to behold, so chaotic and blushy, so damn adorable. “UhHHmm!~♡♥︎ GuUughhh!!” All he did was whimpering and moaning like some dog in heat, struggling against his restrains while his cock leaked his filthy pre onto the bed. With all the remaining strength he had, he meekly trust his hips back against you, trying to get you to go even further.

Then you stopped, very abruptly. “Ah-ahhh..?” A confused squeak escaped him. Hands still holding his hips while he sobbed into the pillow, but you didn’t move at all. “Shall I just leave you like this? Considering you aren’t seeing this as a punishment.” You asked yourself, though talked loud enough for him to hear, you wanted him to know. “uhhh- huuu~?? N-no! Don’t stop y-yet!” His voice was rough and hoarse from his screaming his lungs out. That man really has no shame considering how loud his volume was the entire time.

He turned his head back, trying to look at you. And when he did, a shiver ran down his spine, almost enough to push him over the edge. You were smiling with your eyes, a dangerous look, one that told him to run away r he’d regret it. But, to him, he was already too deep in this mess to escape. This was going to be a long night for him, and he knew since the beginning. “You wanna cum, Sampo?” You began, leaning down to his level again. By doing so you pushed your dick a little deeper in and he whined at the friction. The male didn’t respond with words, he only nodded his head hesitantly, meekly. A sense of fear and pleasure bubbling inside him. How he loved to feel like nothing next to you.

Next thing he knew you clasped one hand over his eyes and wrapped the other one around his throat, squeezing him, about it choke him. “Be a good boy and endure it. If I’m satisfied, I’ll let you cum.”

His heart pounded against his chest, he felt lightheaded. All the ecstasy and anticipation was making him dizzy with lust. He didn’t even have to think twice before groaning with a low voice, “yes, please, toy with me. Kill me with your love♡”

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official-cvntified-gay · 3 months ago

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Hi babesssss

How about Sub!AD and Dom!Reader?

(Im a sucker for sub alcina-)

Well anyways thats all really lol, i can't think of anything else since my brain is toasted rn

💞💞💞thankssssss

Let Go

⋆˚࿔ ugh, something about a powerful woman giving up control is scrumdillyyumyum, thank you for this request my darling anon<3

The dim light of the moon filtered through the grand windows of your shared bedroom with Alcina, casting a soft glow across the stone walls. The air was still, save for the crackling of the fireplace that sent warm flickers of light dancing across the room. Alcina stood by the window, her tall frame poised but weary, her usual confident presence seeming smaller in the dimness of the late night. She was tired—not just physically, but emotionally. The day had worn her down, the weight of her duties, the expectations of Mother Miranda, and the constant need to be strong pressing heavily on her shoulders.

You watched her from the bed, sensing the shift in her mood, knowing what she needed before she even spoke. There was a fragility to Alcina in these moments, a quiet vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see, and it was in these moments that she let down the walls she so carefully constructed.

“Alcina, my love” you called softly, your voice a gentle invitation. She turned toward you, her golden eyes meeting yours, and you saw the hesitation in her gaze—the brief flicker of uncertainty that passed over her features. She always had to be in control, always had to be the one who led. But tonight, you could see it in her eyes: she didn’t want that. Not now.

She needed release, and you were more than willing to give it to her.

With a soft sigh, Alcina crossed the room, her towering form looming above you as she stood beside the bed. Her hands moved to the hem of her gown, her long, elegant fingers pausing for a moment as if she were debating whether to undress herself. You reached up, placing your hand gently over hers, stopping her movement. Her eyes flicked to yours, searching for something, and you gave her a soft smile.

“Let me,” you whispered, your tone gentle but firm.

Alcina hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her breath hitching slightly as she relinquished control. It was subtle, the way she shifted her weight, the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction as she allowed you to take the lead.

You stood from the bed, your hands moving to the delicate straps of her gown, carefully sliding them down her shoulders. Alcina shivered beneath your touch, a rare show of vulnerability from the woman who was always so composed. You kissed her broad shoulders to help her loosen up. The fabric slipped down her body, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing before you, exposed and raw.

For a moment, you simply took her in, admiring the way the soft moonlight caressed her skin, casting shadows across her sharp features and accentuating the strength and elegance of her body. She was stunning, powerful even in her submission, and it took your breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, your hands moving to her hips, pulling her gently toward the bed. She followed your lead without resistance, her breath quickening as you guided her to lie down on the soft sheets. You could see the tension in her body, the way she was trying to hold on to control even as she surrendered it to you.

“Relax,” you whispered as you climbed on top of her, your hands moving to caress the length of her arms. “You don’t have to be strong right now. Not here.”

Alcina’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she let your words wash over her. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, and you could feel her slowly unwinding, the tension leaving her body bit by bit.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, feeling the way her pulse quickened beneath your lips. She tilted her head back, giving you more access, and you took your time, trailing kisses down the elegant curve of her throat, savoring the soft gasps that escaped her as your lips grazed her skin.

Your hands wandered down her body, tracing the lines of her figure, memorizing every curve, every inch of her that was now yours to explore. Alcina’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed over the swell of her breasts, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way her body responded to your touch, so eager despite her usual composure.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered against her skin, your voice low and husky, a gentle command that you knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

Alcina’s eyes opened, her golden gaze locking onto yours, dark with desire. “I want… I want to feel you,” she breathed, her voice soft but filled with need. “I want you to take me.”

There it was—the admission of surrender, the vulnerability that she only allowed you to see. It made your heart swell with love and desire, knowing that she trusted you enough to let go like this.

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss, pouring all of your love and adoration into that single moment. Alcina responded with a quiet moan, her hands moving to grip your back, pulling you closer as her body arched into yours.

“Good girl,” you murmured against her lips, and the sound of those words made her shudder beneath you. Your fingers leaving trail of goosebumps as you trace her thighs, you gave her clit a few teasing circles that rewarded you into hearing her grunted moans and sighs.

You took your time with her, savoring every moment, every gasp, every whispered plea that fell from her lips. Your hands moved with practiced ease inside her pussy, teasing and exploring, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling beneath you, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “That’s it, let go for me.” you coo at her, not resisting the urge to kiss her fervor.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice broken with need against yours. “Please… I can’t take it anymore.”

You smiled against her lips, loving the way she begged for you, the way she had completely given herself over to you. You moved lower, your lips trailing down her body until you reached the apex of her thighs, and Alcina gasped, her hands tangling in the sheets as she fought to maintain control.

But tonight, control wasn’t hers to keep. And you were going to make sure she knew it.

You took her slowly, methodically, your tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring her to the edge again and again. Alcina’s moans filled the room, her body writhing beneath you as she chased her release, but you held her there, teasing her, drawing out her pleasure until she was begging for mercy.

“Please,” she gasped, her voice hoarse from crying out. “Please, I can’t—”

“Let go,” you whispered, your breath hot against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

And with those words, Alcina finally shattered, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. You stayed with her through it, guiding her, holding her, until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled with the sound of her breathing and the crackle of the fire. Then, slowly, Alcina opened her eyes, her gaze soft and filled with a kind of quiet awe as she looked up at you.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sincerity in her words was unmistakable.

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

#lesbians #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #smut #resident evil alcina #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x female reader

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 6 months ago

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I know your probably not going to see this since you have so many asks but I’m going to try anyway

Could you do relationship headcanons with the Elden ring girls?

(Whatever ones is up to you since I want to see which ones you will pick)

Oh ye of little Faith Anon!

Also, I decided to go the angst route for Marika and Melina so fair warning for that.

Now, since you gave me free rein to choose… My Wish Is My Command!

Malenia was not much of a talker.

She liked her alone time.

That said, she did like listening to others talk on occasion.

She especially liked listening to people talking about normal, everyday life.

It was a guilty pleasure of hers.

To hear about the simple things.

Hugging those they care for close.

Kissing the ones they love.

All the things she rarely ever felt.

But then, one day, she met you.

It was a complete accident, something that, if she had stepped on a different piece of the cobble path, never would’ve happened.

While she was walking the path, her head in the clouds, she caught her still flesh and bone foot on a broken piece of stone.

She, of course, was able to return herself to being upright near instantly.

Though… not without accidentally smacking you in the nose with her prosthetic.

Her unalloyed golden metal prosthetic.

Needless to say, you were bleeding.

Badly.

And Malenia, for all her grace and strength on the battlefield, was absolutely horrible when it came to people.

So, Malenia being the expert in Diplomacy she is, grabbed you by the back of your collar, and dragged you off without a word, nose still absolutely pouring blood.

And that is how you got here.

Sitting on a chair in THE Malenia’s room, pieces of cotton stuck up your nose as the red headed woman paced the room, not saying a single word.

This was an absolutely surreal experience.

An actual Demi-God, someone who could cut down an army with ease, had just accidentally wacked you in the face, dragged you into her room, and was pacing the floor like she had just committed some grand, unforgivable crime.

It was just a bloody nose, not even broken.

She looked like she was about to collapse from stress.

You were pretty sure she was about to wear a hole into the ground with how fast she was pacing.

“U-uh Lady Malenia?” you tentatively asked.

The red head went rigid and turned to you in a manner more akin to an automaton from the Academy Of Raya Lucaria than a humanoid creature.

“I am Malenia, Blade Of Miquella.” Malenia declared without room for response or retort, leaving the room in complete and utter silence as you looked directly into the helm she wore.

It was now that a knock on the door rang through the room, and a wave of relief ran through both parties.

“Malenia! I heard you dragged someone into your room! Did you get a Consort and not tell your favorite sibling!?” a joyous and booming voice cried through the door.

“Consort? Me?” you muttered in confusion.

“Miquella is my favorite sibling.” Malenia stated bluntly, seemingly causing a physical impact to the person on the other side.

“Then your biggest Sibling!” the voice declared joyously.

“Radahn is my biggest sibling.” Malenia stated in the same tone of voice, causing direct harm to the speaker.

“I am going to smite you with lightning.” the voice declared in an oddly happy voice despite the very real threat.

“You can try, Godwyn. I will simply cut the lightning.” Malenia declared.

The door was promptly thrown open and the giant blonde man in the doorway shouted.

“YOU CAN’T CUT LIGHTNING!!!”

“Has anyone tried it before?” Malenia asked.

“No-” Godwyn began before getting cut off.

“Then I shall be the first, and I shall succeed.” Maleina declared in her eternally even tone of voice.

Godwyn moved to advise against this ill fated endeavor but then, he noticed the guest in the room.

He looked at you for a few moments, perplexed, before walking over to Malenia and dragging her out of the room by her ear.

A few moments later, a young Blonde poked his head into the room.

“Excuse me, but have you seen my sister Malenia?” the blonde asked.

“Uhm… you just missed her. Lord Godwyn dragged her off somewhere.” you responded.

“Hmm… I see. Thank you.” the blonde muttered before walking off.

Then, you heard the stomping of running feet and the blonde shot into the room, shouting.

“WHO IN THE ERDTREE ARE YOU!?”

This was how you met the children of Queen Marika The Eternal.

The Demi-Gods that are feared and respected by all.

Malenia, The Blade Of Miquella, a woman of impossible strength, grace, and to you, beauty. She was also pathetically inept when it came to social interaction.

Godwyn The Golden, a man of immense power and lauded as one of the greatest diplomats in history. He had a habit of saying terrifying things with a happy voice and a smile.

Miquella The Unalloyed, a being of unparalleled intelligence and magical power. He tended to have his head stuck in the clouds.

It was such an odd thing to see.

Especially considering your new job that you received as an apology for Maleina accidentally striking you.

You were now the official “Cultural Examiner”.

Also known as, the person who Malenia pays to hear talk about the day to day life of those who lived normal lives.

If there is one thing Marika needs in her life, it is a singular fixed point, an unmoving and unbreaking rock in a rough sea.

That was all she asked you to be, and the only thing she would ever request of you.

To be someone to lean on when she needed it.

She wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you.

She wasn’t supposed to spend her nights thinking about you.

She wasn’t supposed to start to see you as more than an advisor.

But, she did.

And for years, she suffered for it.

She said she would only ever ask one thing of you, and that is an oath she intended to keep.

No matter how much she wished to ask you what you thought of her as only you had ever truly seen.

A person.

No matter how much she wished to ask you who if anyone you liked.

She occasionally caught herself thinking of you telling her that she was the one you liked.

She wanted to ask you if she was a fool for acting like a young love sick maiden in her private moments.

She knew she was.

But… she still liked to have her dreams.

Even if the nightmares were far more numerous.

Still, even if you felt the same feelings for her… could she even reciprocate them?

The blood on her hands… Her chains to the Golden Order… Her own innumerable sins… she couldn’t force that on you.

And yet… the want to simply sit with you and mumble and grumble about whatever minor inconveniences came to mind overpowered her again and again and again.

She knew she needed to stop on the off chance you reciprocate her feelings since she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from saying yes.

But she couldn’t.

And that was the only thing related to you she didn’t know how to feel about.

Melina The Kindling Maiden

Melina was born to burn.

She knew that from the moment she could comprehend the world.

Her existence was to find a Tarnished without a maiden, serve that role, and then when they reached the mountaintops, use herself as the match to burn the Erdtree.

Not once had this ever bothered her.

But now, as she stood on the edge of the forge with you, her Tarnished, on the ground behind her…

She wished she had a little bit more time with you.

To watch the person who charmed her with their strange antics and many eccentricities.

To eat Prawn with you and Boggart.

To sit by a grace and wait out the rain.

To spend the night under the stars.

To simply spend the day as the two of you always did.

But… Now that was but a sweet dream.

There was only one thing to do before she burned.

She knew better than to turn and face you.

But, that did nothing to stop the tears pricking at her eyes.

“Torrent, please, I beg of thee. Watch over My Tarnished as best you can.”

“Beloved Ranni, you know all someone would have to do to ruin that oh so perfect persona you have cultivated is to knock your books out from under you.” You told the witch with a cheshire grin.

“I have no idea what you mean, I have no mask to wea- FATHERS BALLSACK!!!” Ranni squealed as a single book was removed from the stack, sending her tumbling right into your arms.

“There she is! Ranni, the one whose mouth your mother had to wash out with soap more than anyone can ever hope to count.” you told the doll-like woman with a teasing grin as you twirled around with her.

“Wh- You son of a-” Ranni began to say, preparing to go on a tirade before stopping.

That was exactly what you wanted out of her.

For her to prove your point.

Instead-

“Ack! Cold! Cold!” you began to cry as Ranni wrapped her arms around you.

Ranni was never the type to be above pettily pranking someone.

Especially not you.

After all, if you were to be her Consort you had to know what you were getting into.

#malenia #malenia blade of miquella #malenia x reader #queen marika #queen marika the eternal #queen marika x reader #marika x reader #melina #melina the kindling maiden #melina x reader #ranni the witch #lunar princess ranni #ranni x reader

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deathbxnny · 2 months ago

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I am so glad you also like Arcane bc I HAVE SO MUCH IDEAS AND AHHHHH

So i can i request Caitlyn with a Navia like reader who is her childhood bestfriend? Caitlyn reminds me a lot of Clorinde which is why i think her and Navia would get along.

Btw who’s your favourite characters in Arcane? (Mine is Jinx and Vi)

Hope you have a lovely day/night!

- Flower Anon 🌸

Caitlyn with a childhood best friend Navia-like!Reader.

Your comparison between Clorinde and Caitlyn is so real, I'm honestly in awe at your brain rn lmao. So thank you so much for the request, Flower Anon. I really hope you'll enjoy this!

(Also, my favorite characters are definitely either Vi or Viktor... they both have my heart.<3)

Content: can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, childhood best friends, some angst, fluff, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

Your light always shone so much brighter than hers, even as children. Your smile made people's days, and your words were inspiring to many. You were everything she wanted to be, yet she found no jealousy in her. Only determination to do better, despite your words of kind encouragement and the many compliments you gave her on her skills. It all melted away in the face of your beauty and power she never could imitate. And in that she found a deep appreciation for you.

Elegance was also something that came naturally to you. No matter the occasion, you were always the best dressed in the room. You even went as far as to make Caitlyn wear matching outfits or do her makeup/hair when she allowed it. She enjoyed seeing your face lit up whenever she did, even if your styles never matched.

But what she loved the most about you was your strong sense for justice, even in the face of fear. You were so human and so powerful for it. You helped those in need, fought for the rights of the less fortunate like your own, and never wielded under the pressure, even when you suffered for it. Your intelligence and strength in battle drove her to strive to be the same despite her struggles to keep up with you due to her own ideologies you could never share.

Caitlyn's world was cold and rigid, whilst yours was forever blazing and wild. It's what set you two apart and yet brought you closer at the same time. When you didn't see eye to eye, you still made sure that she's taken care of at the end of your arguments.

You were so kind when she was not. So humble when she never learned how to be. You were her better half, and perhaps that's why she loved you. She, however, just hoped you could forgive her one day for changing so much, as she turns away from your kind light forever.

#arcane #arcane x genderneutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman

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millerscoffee · 1 year ago

Text

heat lightning

6.5k | sub!joel miller x f!reader

gif credit: @jdmorganz

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: NO OUTBREAK. established relationship, no age gap – up to you for joel's age but he has creaky knees so..., sub!joel, bratty!joel??, mommy kink, rope kink, dom/sub dirty talk, joel whimperin' n whinin', gagging, choking, slapping, spitting, edging (m receiving), oral (f receiving - face riding), piv (unprotected), praise kink (good boy, etc.), pet names (pet, baby boy, honey, etc.), a touch of humiliation/degradation kink (spoiler: a moment of cock shaming – every body is a lovely body!), size kink (he still got that thang tho), we walk by breeding ave., sickly sweet aftercare, lingerie. dude if i missed it - it's probably in here! no use of y/n

A/N: thank u to the sweet anon (u know who u are) who requested this almost a month ago. i hope it was worth the wait! love youuuuu!!! ♡

Joel liked having his way. Shocking.

This concept drew you to him, not only because you enjoyed being told what to do (every now and then), but even more that you wanted to challenge why he needed things to be his way in the first place.

You’ve been with Joel long enough now to know the mix of events that made him who he was. Nights and days where he felt insecure for exposing all there was to him, but he was willing to fish it out of him to you.

Only to you.

Tonight wasn’t unlike a handful of nights the two of you shared since being together and unraveling Joel’s vulnerability. It was beautiful, and in moments of softness, it was easy to reflect on how far he’d come. But, right now? You’re a little preoccupied.

---

It started earlier tonight. Joel refused to wear contacts for the fourth time in a week, and forgot his glasses just as much.

And guess who had to remind him? You! Of course! Every. Single. Time.

To wear his glasses, or put his contacts in. But the week was busy at work – Tommy gone off again. Or at least, this was his excuse. More and more excuses poured throughout the week until it was a mere grunt at your suggestion.

Your knuckles blanching until you just gave up entirely. “Ah, fuck,” you hear from the kitchen, the view of Joel rubbing his eyes not long after the sound.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” words are sharp and you clench your teeth. It catches Joel off guard at first, his head shooting up to meet your cold stare. And before he can make an attempt to straighten you out, you stand up – rushing to the kitchen. “I tell you this at least twice a fucking week. ‘Joel, wear your glasses. Joel, have you put your contacts in today?’ you know why your eyes hurt so fucking much? Because you don’t listen to me, and I’m sick of it.”

“You know it’s been a rough week,” Joel’s tyrannical now, his jaw setting – ticking forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry – did I give you permission to speak?” you raise an eyebrow waiting for a reaction, but instead you witness the shift of his hips and the drop of his gaze.

He feels the energetic shift as much as you do, and seems into it. The hitch in his breath gave him away.

“No, ma’am.”

“Bedroom. Now. Swear to god, if you make me repeat myself.”

So he goes and you follow. And you bring a dining chair with you.

Placing it down, you go to the closet to grab some clothes before turning your heel to face a man whose cock shouldn’t be so fucking hard from getting your last nerve.

“I’m going to change, and you are going to sit on this chair. Naked. Do I need to repeat myself?”

Joel beseeches you silently with his dark stare and a steadfast shake of his head, “No, ma’am.”

You don’t respond because you don’t have to and usher yourself to the bathroom – door shuts behind you and you slip into something more dominating.

---

“Darlin’, it’s a little tight,” Joel rattles now, his strength to hold back waning. The rope that curled around the strong arches of his wrists tug harshly as it found tautness from behind the chair.

His wrists and ankles tied with knots that Joel taught you how to tie long ago.

The chair at the foot of the bed.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, you peer over him, changed into laced lingerie with leather accents. Red. Cinched at the waist, your tits bloom out from the cups — daring to spill but never do. You feel sexy, and you feel in control. And fuck, you look so good. Joel knows it, the way he sops you up just by his eyes.

He’s shorter than you like this, but his body still takes up so much space, and it’s intoxicating to observe Joel in such a submissive position in his sturdy frame.

“Is Darlin’ my name?” voice flat, you prop yourself up on the edge of the chair – tilting your head to scan over his body. You take your time with each part of him. Because his wrists are tied, yes, but you look down at the rest of him, completely stripped for you. His hips jolt involuntarily, pathetically really, all from your words and you really watch between his legs. The head of his cock pulsing with blush, weeping against his stomach and thigh as it arches. And he twitches at your gaze.

“Oh, he likes that,” you remark condescendingly, and on any other day you’d be eager to wrap your lips around him. To suck him until his toes curled and your name slipped through the air from his rough, but blissed out voice. But tonight was about taking the lead, teaching a lesson. Taking him how you wanted because you could. And maybe because you loved him and wanted him to experience – to just experience without the expectation of being in command.

“Now, tell me,” you start, teasing the tops of your fingernails grazing the length of his thigh slowly – humming in approval, his body shuddering, his grunts fill the air, “what’s my name, Joel?”

“M-mommy,” the word scorches his cheeks, causing him to bite into his bottom lip and his eyes squeeze shut, precum beading to the tip. His head hangs in unbearable arousal, chin lifting to catch your eyes. The soft brown of his eyes, full of desire and willingness to do anything for you. Anything… except doing what he’s told when he’s stubborn. Your core aches when you squeeze your thighs together for relief, but you don’t falter.

“Mommy!” a fake gasp, you lean over to pat him on the cheek before smacking the skin ten percent harder, “That’s right! Good boy!”

And that wrecks him, sends his hips flying off the seat as much as he can, but you’re quick to shove them down. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Mommy’s not done with you yet,” your fingers curl under his chin, coaxing him to look at you.

“How can you make me feel good, pet? Let’s use our words,” you lean down enough for him to see your tits pushed together like this and the look on his face– god, you’d bottle it. His brows wilted upwards, lips parting, and they’re so wet, so inviting, you want to kiss them for hours. The right toy for you to use in pursuit of getting yourself off.

“I—I c’n use my mouth. I wanna. Wanna be good t’ya, mama,” and he’s almost begging. He’s so close, you can tell he’s trying. It’s just that, he’s distracted– wants to devour you whole without having to ask, not like this. He’s still not used to saying the things you so easily offer him on any other day.

“You wanna be good to me,” you repeat mockingly, tongue darting to one side of your cheek, “That’s too bad. We’re not doing that yet, you still need to learn your lesson. Gotta make sure you know who’s in charge, don’t we, darlin’?”

You don’t let him answer before you sit back at the edge of the bed, your legs spread as they relax against the mattress. You watch Joel, how his head won’t look at you directly – not even if he wants to. He feels too shy, too ashamed for not listening to you, and honestly you’re sick of it because you look fucking hot.

So you clap your hand at his chin lightly, “Miller. Right here.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and those deep eyes take their precious time to rake their gaze over you.

“Is that how you act when a gorgeous lady’s in front of you?”

Joel lifts his brows first, then his eyes, “No, baby– I’m sorr–”

“Not my name.”

You see Joel’s mandible flutter again in frustration now because yes, you’re grinding his gears, but the vulnerability makes him uncomfortable, and he grits out, “No, mommy. I’m. Sorry.”

“You’re on thin fucking ice Joel,” your arms cross over your chest, leaning forward to make eye contact, and though it makes your tits raise, your body language says it all: last chance.

That seems to make him reroute his stubbornnesses because he’s back to open expressions and spread thighs – thick as his cock that weeps pitifully against his abdomen and thigh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

If you were to admit it to yourself, you’re distracted. His cock looks so good, throbbing like that – bobbing with each twitch as his balls tighten along with it and he’s so perfectly thick your mouth waters, but it is not about making his ego feel good tonight. Not yet, anyway. He must understand this behaviour is unacceptable. Just when you think about caving, you’re reminded of how fucking obstinate he’s been and you get annoyed – dominant, all over again.

“Here’s how tonight's gonna go. I’m gonna touch myself, use your mouth, and if you’re good, I’ll ride your pathetic excuse of a cock. Sound good?” you flash a sardonic grin cutting him off when his mouth opens, “Good! Now shut the fuck up.”

It shouldn’t make him hard and it shouldn’t make slick gather between your legs, but of course it does because you’re both insatiable when it comes to each other. Fueling a fire that can’t be tamed anyway, you unfurl in front of him – one palm against the lush duvet while the other trails in front of you, through the lace of your panties. You squeeze your thighs together again, spreading your mess and there’s a wicked grin on your face because you know he knows just how it feels to have those thighs squeezing around his head. To make that messy pussy of yours glide over his features. And the damp fabric emits subtle sloshes from just how turned on you are by this. You love the opportunity to have the upperhand.

Joel, he looks rabid, eyes unable to move from your core while the sweetest sounds fall out of your mouth. Like a hypnotising trick from the circling of your clothed folds – a magician’s secret. His stare is so animalistic you almost want to egg him on like a dog: this what you want, boy? But you’ve got him right where you want him, and you don’t want to take him anywhere else.

“It feels good, Joel,” you confirm with no pornographic moans. Rather a solid melody to your tone. Grounded in your power. You want Joel to know you can make yourself feel good without him, despite it being very much because of him. “Better than you can make me feel.”

And Joel can’t take it anymore – he can’t stand it when you lie to him. He’s seen you with him. How you blossom under his touch until your thighs are shaking all on their own. Seen drool spill from the corners of your mouth as you take and take and take from him, slurred praises floating from your needy throat.

“That ain’t fuckin’ true,” he growls like a caged animal, hips squirming into the chair, and you stop pleasing yourself – wrist frozen as the pressure on your clit becomes lighter, eyes narrow.

“Did I let you fucking speak?” Question rhetorical, you slip your scanty panties off and wad them up before prying his mouth open and shoving them, crotch-side first, inside to mute any more rebukes. The taste of your sex coats his tongue and his moans are muffled, eyes roll back for a fleeting moment – as if he forgot what he was even saying to begin with. His wrists slightly turning colour from the resistance against the rope. Hog heaven, you can hear the southern phrase drawl from his lips without the words.

“And what? You think you can make me feel better than I can? You really think that?” Joel finally smartens up when he realises you’re naked from the waist down and can see the slick against the seams of your thighs while your legs are apart – how turned on you are by keeping him on a line, and god the air is thick. His eyelids droop to the sound of your voice, the scent and taste of you overcoming him as a piteous nod is given to you. Poor baby.

It should irk you, the fact that he believes he knows your body better than you do, but it rakes the coals instead. It’s in that he’s so eager to show you how he can get you there – makes you curious, your pussy tingles in anticipation, pulse rises.

“If I let you go, are you going to be compliant? Because if you think you’re in control, you’re wrong and I need to know you’ll be a good boy for me. Will you be a good boy for mommy if I tell you what to do?”

The strained pleas from the fabric and emphatic nods give you reason to follow through with your promise. And he looks like he means it, like you’ve worn him down to submit to you fully without restraint. You can tell he’s in pain from how hard he is. Like he’s being edged without even touching him. His hands must be numb, his body could tremble at the slightest touch.

It’s enough for you to waltz behind him. You loosen the rope, ghosting your hands over the other typically warm set and despite them being tingly – he can still feel you. His breath hitches, the slopes of his shoulders are so gorgeous from behind. The muscles of his back taut as they flex, their silent entreat for relief. “It’s okay,” you whisper, now that you can’t see him, you feel more inclined to be forgiving.

The arousal is a constant build between the two of you. When you let his wrists loose, he doesn’t move. Just rolls his knuckles into fists, bringing blood and oxygen back to the extremities. He’s good on his word, and makes that known when you untie his ankles. He’s giving it up to you – totally conceding, and moreover adores this side of you. He knows he’s the only one you could ever be this assertive with because the relationship you have creates room for it. Both of you feel safe. His teeth tighten around your panties when you come back around to him, and you cup your small hand, comparatively, to the side of Joel’s neck.

“You good little thing. Got mama so proud,” pushing his curls back, you pull the spit-soaked garment from between his teeth and he’s beaming, nudging his cheek against your touch hungrily. “Go lie on the bed, honey.”

His joints creak from age when he does, having sat there for what felt like an eternity but he does exactly as you say: nothing more, nothing less. Hums softly to himself at the feeling of being able to lie flat on his back because it feels so good, and in the brief moment it’s there without a role – your adoration for him, the gentle quirks that make him so delectable. He deserves to sit back like this, to let his brain just take rather than supply.

However impatient he may be in the process of submission.

“You are doing so well, Joel. I know you have a pristine mouth too, don’t you? Are you gonna show me your tongue?” Getting onto the bed, you walk on your knees as this newly obedient Joel sticks out his tongue flat for you to float over. Your throat dries at that, how perfect he can be for you like this. A smirk comes over your features, “Much better with your tongue out than running it all the time,” and you swear you see Joel’s teeth creep up in a similar smile, but you’re busy straddling his waist with your ass facing his chest to notice.

His strong nose bumps against your clit when you bracket his head. Sipping the air abrasively, your body seizes at the sensation. Clearly more sensitive than your confident words let on, but that’s just the thing – you are confident and extremely horny and you can admit it. So you give in, purring deliciously when you lower over his mouth until you’re sitting completely on his face.

“Love using this mouth for my cunt,” fingers tangle through the strands of his hair and you use it to roll your hips frantically, yet methodically, against the heat of his wet mouth. His tongue hits your folds succinctly, on purpose, and even though you haven’t allowed him to touch you, his movements are so precise it’s as if he’s rolling your hips for you.

“Fuck, you’re swimming in it now,” you groan, neck thrown back before leaning your neck over to the side to watch his eyes flutter shut – the slight shake of his achy jaw, the sweat at the top of his hairline. He’s putting in the work to take it, even when he feels like giving up.

The squelching of your juices has you in your own trance, and though you would wait for his cock to give into the prickling at the pit of your belly, you decide to go give in to what you want in the moment – to orgasm right here, right now. All over Joel’s face.

Pulling the top of your pubic bone, your clit exposes to the plush of lips beneath you. “Suck.” The instruction is simple compared to the stir of fireworks that he sets off inside you. Because he does what you say, and how you say it, instantly. Joel’s eyes roll back alongside his muffled, but satisfied moans that vibrate against the bundle of nerves he’s taking his time to satisfy. Wet suction sounds fill the room when the air breaks off, his tongue swirling right underneath the hood of you and you break out in a sweat from how impossibly good he is at this.

“Y-you’re so good for mommy,” you sound wrecked, Joel looks up at you when he catches just how gone you are. Loving to see you take what you want from him, using his mouth to pleasure yourself. You rock deeply, your hands knead over your lace-covered tits and when you look down at him again, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Eating you like he worships you, and you’re certain he does.

But using him meant not warning him when you were close.

So it comes as no surprise, the influx of low, masculine, ached groans from beneath you when your body responds to its pleasure. Your fingernails dig into your fists as you shudder and moan above him, the lightning rising from your core to your limbs in a matter of seconds – and in waves. You lean forward, catching yourself at the headboard and let out a slight chuckle at the comedown. The two of you surfacing in between this power dynamic. “Shit.”

That’s short lived under your ruling, however, and you slide off of him – getting your bearings. Joel stays still, his mouth vivid pink to match his cheeks, beard and lips sheened with your slick. The look in his eye shows his constraint, his need for something and when you pluck your gaze down his body. His beautiful cock straining against his abdomen, a pool of precum greets you.

“This?” You raise both eyebrows, pointing between his legs, “This needs touchin’?”

“Please,” fuck, he sounds ruined – consumed with lust and need for anything you can give him. He’s really begging now, not the bullshit he tried to deliver you in the beginning.

“Okay, baby,” you coo, “You’re so good for me, gonna make you feel so good.” When you finally, finally acknowledge his cock, his abdomen jolts though you barely touch his sides. You laugh through your nose briefly, “That bad, darlin’?” His head sways ‘yes’ against the pillow before saying it, and you waste no more time in your pursuit to obliterate him now.

So you straddle him. Right at his waist, angling above where his twitching cock lies. You can feel the heat radiate off the both of you. Your core pulsing from your orgasm, wet from slick and spit. You have some wits about you now that you came, and it aids you in authorising the next step – the step that has every nerve at the edge of its seat for Joel.

Joel’s body. The taut skin, the hair down his arms and across the landscape of his chest down his middle. Your own body fills with anticipation when you anchor your hips further down until your folds are greeted by the underside of his length and it’s unhurried when you both shudder in response.

“Sh-shit, shit, darlin’–mama,” he inhales sharply, those words transitioning to whimpers when you glide your hips over his cock back and forth with intention – applying more pressure with each pass.

“Yeah, you like that?”

Joel’s tongue skates over his bottom lip as he nods frantically, and you still yourself.

“Nuh uh. Words, tell me. Need to hear you say it, Joel.”

“F-feels so good, honey. Feels like my kinda paradise.”

Or at least that’s what you are pretty sure you hear. It’s rushed from his feverish breaths, but he’s doing his best. Wants to make an impression that he is committed to giving in. It’s when his eyes slip shut do you lean your body over him, tilting his chin, you wrap one hand around his throat though it doesn’t quite reach around to completion.

“You beautiful man. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?”

Joel blinks them open to see your hooded eyes above him, unable to hide just how in awe he is.

“Y’look gorgeous, mama,” and shit– you feel your cunt clench around the absence of him at that. At how candid and altruistic his words are in the moment.

“You’re one to talk,” you run the tops of your fingers against his beard, hips languid. “Stay right here. My good boy. M’gonna take this big fucking cock. That’s right, isn’t it? Make you know for certain who it belongs to.”

And he loves hearing you talk about him like this. Looks so serene as you sit upright, peeling the rest of your layers off until you’re both naked and he looks like he desperately wants to touch you, but you give him a stern look – not yet. Not until I take you myself.

Reaching behind, you press the head of his cock at your entrance and hiss at the instant stretch. Not working yourself up with his fingers shows when you envelop him like this, and you can feel him digging his heels into the bed from just how you feel around the head of him.

“M-Mommy!”

The sound of him whining is symphonic to your ears.

“Shhhh, you can take it.” The role reversal makes you shiver, your wet sex moving down a little more before you pull up, popping off of him completely and his hips stammer trying to follow you, but he soon realises the edge you’re bringing him to.

He’s greeted with your sinister smile.

“What, honey?” You lean over him, forcing his chin up, you deliver a slap to his cheek before sliding down his cock again – working him up and down, then off again.

His bottom lip trembles and puffs. He’s losing his cool, hands ghosting your hips because he knows better than to touch you like this. Not when he’s so close to getting what he wants. The heat, the fucking heat from them – you shake.

“P-p, mama, mmngh,” his whimpers put you in a daze. How he feels so good he can’t even form a proper sentence. Your free hand claws at his chest while the other at your front edges him – rocking against the underside of him again. Minutes feel like hours when you rile him up like this, and you know you look a mess too. Fucked out, nipples peaked and you catch his gaze on them – his hunger for you extends through the room leaving heat on your skin as it radiates, the energy bouncing off from this tantric experience. The eye contact is insane: Joel’s pupils dilated, eager against the constant spasm of his cock against your messy folds.

All humidity, sweat, and sex make their presence irrevocably known.

You’re slipping.

But you muster one last discipline, leaning down so your tits graze against his chest. You brush your nose against his, insisting his precum spreads against your entrance. He grunts, teeth together, hips grinding as best as he can without breeding you into your submission. And fuck, you’d almost allow it.

Almost.

“Should’ve worn your fucking glasses.” You whisper against his lips, your clit brushing against the coarse hairs of his lower abdomen, and it’s exactly then does he spill over his breaking point.

“I’ll wear them, I’ll wear them!” And, fuck, Joel sounds pained – he sounds sorry, and he sounds desperate. “Please! Please just let me come, mama. I wanna paint ya up so good, honey. P-please, mama! I’ll get fuckin’ lasik – please, just lemme in that perfect pussy!”

That’s the green light.

Placing him back inside, your hips grind on him shallowly. Both hands tighten around his throat, albeit a bit looser than the one fist he’d have around your neck – but it seems to do the trick and you buzz in satisfaction before a choked moan fills your lungs: the sound he’s been craving. Your body giving in, doing what it does. It’s nature, after all, giving into these feelings. “Fucking take this cunt. Fill mommy up, yeah? You wanna make me a real mama, baby? C’mon, let go for me. You can let go, you can move.”

It’s a lightswitch. It’s flipping a breaker, giving Joel such permission.

You yelp when he tosses you off of him. Onto your back, he’s on his knees within a blink – gripping your thighs, he pries you apart before his cock spears inside you with little remorse, and “Oh-my god – your cock!” you scream. It’s exactly what you need now. You nod through knitted brows, praises fill the space between you. You take his chin between your thumb and pointer, one arm around his shoulders you pry his lips apart to transfer spit right inside his mouth. Your tongue glides over his and he drinks straight from the source. You can feel his Adam's apple wobble as it swallows what you’re giving him underneath the pad of your thumb. “That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you mutter sloppily from the rutting of his deviant hips.

Gravity’s against you when you spit in his mouth again, getting some of it on your chin and nose, but fuck, you don’t care. You want it filthy like this with your head half off the bed, his fingers plucking your nipples as it ripples pleasure down your center. “I’m doin’ okay, mama? This whatcha need?” This sly fucker. “S-s’perfect!” The requirement of reassurance fastens you in the leadership role you assumed in the beginning, and you’re so fucking thrilled Joel’s your partner. How he can deliver you mindblowing thrusts, yet still look at you through his lashes like he’s the softest motherfucker on the planet. A gleam of pride in his eyes and at the corner of his lips when he hears your juices be tapped in a fast tempo by his heavy balls. Like giving you pleasure is the pearl he longs to hold for dear life itself in his capable hands.

Of course, he circles your clit for good measure. Of course he would. Little shit. It works like a charm.

He knows your body, said it himself. How it operates, how to take you there. And you’re panting, hips lift to be greeted by his thrusts all the way to the base of your stomach – achieving the spongy spot only Joel can reach.

You feel it happen like a coiling, a buildup of thin air and then all at once: immense pleasure. It snaps, your body convulsing around his cock, core fluttering as your moans get higher, and you think he’d slow down, but it makes him work harder. You try to keep your eyes on him, but it’s just no use, he’s too good at his job. “F-fuckin’, mmngh,” you can’t get out much else, but you’re soaking his cock – what else could possibly be said? Your tits bounce to his thrusts and you can tell this is it for him. He’s been so proficient at keeping it together all this time. Your eyes pop open then, lips wet, you tug for him to come closer. You don’t fucking care that his sweat sticks to your shoulder when he buries his forehead against your neck.

Joel keeps his whimpers close to your ear. His moans of your name, his passion for this feeling – all of it, right against you. Like a secret, like a prayer and you’re the divine goddess in every moment of reverence.

“Can’t last,” he drawls, a coherent sentence flows through him for a moment and you nod, mouth brushing against the red of his neck. “Give it to me, Joel.” Lips dance at his pulsepoint as the contact bounces from his thrusts, and you can hear his heart thud from outside his body. It floods you, the sawing of his cock inside, the swelling sensation against your walls. Tugging his hair, you pull him back just enough to see his faded eyes, “Give me every drop, baby boy. Come for mommy.”

His lips attempt to make contact with yours, but really all he can do is breathe heavily into your mouth and it’s dizzying, being each other’s oxygen. “S-s… so p-perf–,” he tries, he really tries in making the words connect, but even his core feels shaky from his forearms on either side of your head. You snake your hands around his throat once more, and that’s fucking it.

Joel’s sounds are a mix of the low grunts you know, tailending with particular whimpers that leave you moaning back to him like a call to each other. Holy fuck, you’ve never heard him make that sound before. And he’s good on his promise – coating your inside sticky with his substance, your own vibrational tone is low in your throat as you hum in approval. Until he rides it out. Until his pleasure turns sensitive and his hips come to an end.

“Oh, baby,” you praise, delicate hands leaving his throat, you pet his back – warm and masculine and rippled with muscles that he attained from his work. He’s out of breath, and you both laugh at it, pressing tender kisses to his nose and lips.

“Might fuckin’ die at this rate.”

“Well, at least we had a good run.”

It feels empty when Joel pulls out of you, his lanky body shakes the bed when he gracefully thwacks onto the mattress beside you.

“Mmmng.”

A flawless response. Mmmng, indeed.

You stretch your arms overhead, facilitating a yawn in the process.

And you don’t ignore the way it feels to have his cum spill out of you. Hot and sticky and where it’s meant to be.

“Stay there,” you whisper, rolling onto your side, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you, baby.” You even speak differently now – tender and light, peppering kisses all over his tired face in satisfaction. Slipping up to your feet, you go to the adjoined bathroom and run the bath. Putting a couple of drops of your favourite essential oil to make the sensual experience last in the afterglow. You peek your head out from the bathroom door when it’s ready and give him a gentle look of compassion. “It’s ready.”

Joel grunts when he propels all of his upper body strength to sit up in one go. You can’t get enough of him. The way he looks – sleepy and fucked, arms thick and shoulders broad. You have both earned this bath, even if it’s crowded. He sinks in, and you get in front of him, and honestly you both close your eyes for a long while. Exhausted, used. He wraps his arms around the front of your shoulders, and it’s regulatory to your nervous system.

“I really am sorry,” he finally gruffs, wide palms cater to your shoulders as you melt and sink into the bathwater with him. “This week’s been… it don’t matter. You tell me ‘bout my eyes all the time, and I never listen. I will, I promise. I didn’t mean t’make your life harder.”

You frown at the last bit, turning in the water so your chest is against his. Drops spill out the tub when you do.

“You never make my life harder, Joel.”

“Seems like it,” and you can tell he’s not saying it to play the victim. He’s vulnerable and feels safe enough to share this shame with you. “Seems like I end up fuckin’ somethin’ up.”

No. You won’t be having any of that.

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you shake your head in tandem with your words. “Not even close, do you understand?” Sternly, you keep his eyes poured into yours. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. You make everyday brighter. Even when you’re a royal pain in my ass.”

You both join in with laughter before you rest your warmed cheek to the hairs on his chest. “I swear.”

Joel’s throat vibrates to the tune of your last words, and fingers comb through your hair, leaving you both to flutter your eyes shut in the all-too-small bathtub.

“Okay, I believe you. But only ‘cuz I’m a pain in your ass.”

You take in his warmth, so much as sniffing at his words, and it feels good to be connected like this after those moments of taking matters into your own hands. It feels good for both of you to be unarmed to each other without consequence.

When it's time for you to get out, you dry off before holding out a towel to wrap around him and you lean up, pressing your lips to his – both naked and comfortable. Basking in the aftermath – the scene you two created in the bedroom you transition into. Your eyes scan over the bed: the unkept version of sheets, pillows haphazardly thrown together and you individually slip your clothes on. It feels nice to have a soft fabric cloak over your skin, his t-shirt fitting easily from the worn material. Joel takes your hand in one of his, the dining chair in the other. You look back at the room before flipping the light off. At least for a moment, you’re both pretty tired and will work around the mess soon.

Then there's the kitchen. Where it started. But you don’t feel the same aggravation creep up as it did before. Instead, Joel wraps his arms protectively around you when you rise to your tiptoes to grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. It feels like slipping into a warm pool, and you never want to leave. He is more enchanting than the tub could ever be.

“Hot liquid for my man?”

“Y’could just say tea, I ain’t gonna gag, you know?”

You snicker, turning the kettle on and closing your eyes as his chin tucks at the crease of your neck, not so sure he means it. Coffee? Yes. A blend of chamomile and lavender? You weren’t so sure. But he doesn't turn his nose up when you press the teabag to him, so you sneak a kiss and you plop one bag in each cup.

“I dunno, you might gag,” a knowing smirk grows at the side of your cheek that Joel’s at and you mercifully knock temples, as if your brain waves could send each other the memories you have from tonight. Everything primal and raw, all for the both of you.

“No more gaggin’ tonight,” there’s a laugh in Joel’s words and you scratch his beard idly as you pour your hot drinks when it’s time. “That’s alright, baby boy. Mama can handle a little bit of gagging if it means you’re taking.”

“You better watch it,” smile behind his voice, his nose nudges the edge of your jaw and a shudder draws out a small purr from deep in your chest – especially because you know there’s not an ounce of a menacing tone behind the threat.

“I’m not doing anything,” the grin transfers to your face and you turn to face him, arms wrapping around his shoulders because you can and he pulls you up until your feet leave the ground. It’s a stretch that feels good, your heart’s content.

“Yeah, you’re just so good. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bad unlike us common folk.”

And that makes your cheeks rush with blood because you know it’s only a matter of time before the tables turn. Before you’re caught doing something Joel has told you thousands of times to do or don’t, and he has you in some precarious position to drive you back to the version of your best self.

Still, it’s funny, and you nose against the column of his neck – all sweat still mixed with the bathwater and something so innately, masculinely, Joel Miller. “Not too good, just clever. I get away with a lot more than you think, old man.”

“Easy.” His tone shifts all too easily into a warning, his hips pinning you to the edge of the countertop. Your eyes widen before you press your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

“Relax,” you pet his shoulders, before leaning up to kiss his eyelids, “I like that you’re an old, senile man I can swindle.”

“Goddamn, you’re at record time in attempting to prove just how misbehaved y’really are.”

Finishing the tea, you hand his mug off with a nonchalant shrug.

“I learn from the best, I guess.”

You wait a beat.

“So… lasik, huh?”

Joel practically chokes on his beverage. “Uhhh…,”

“Great! I’ll book the appointment tomorrow!”

You won’t (probably), but the look on his face is priceless.

“Yeah, yeah.” That makes Joel smile eventually, his rough hand cupping the side of your face before planting a dichotomously tender kiss to your forehead, and you are steadfast to reciprocate the affection.

The only thing that matters, anyway.

No matter all the hardships, the restless nights. It’s this. It’s delivering Joel to his knees as he worships you, then securing him with a warm cup of liquids in the form of tea, bath, the undulating nature of your arms in their energetic vibrations when they find his frame.

You would take care of him. You would catch him.

Like how rivers bend and rush to oceans:

Everything leads back to him.

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