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darkstaria · 4 months ago

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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 5:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Sorry for the long weight everyone! I had to binge allll of Stranger Things for a friend's future birthday event and ohhh wow I thought the episodes were gonna be 20 minutes not 40-1hr

Also I suffered a bit of writers block, it happens

But regardless, I hope you all enjoy! ^ ^

(also the taglist has migrated to the bottom of the fic because it's a bit too long now)

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The office was large, sprawling walls contained by an even bigger ceiling. The faint humming of Tim’s computer provided no reassurance, nor did the soft leather of your seat. It felt as if you could sink right into it, and try to fade away. There was a faint aroma of coffee that lingered around the office, but it gave you no solace. It just reminded you of the mistakes you made, to end up here. The elephant in the room.

Tim’s smile was bright, a warm sun. You were burning.

“It’s.. nice to see you again.” You attempted, words stumbling about on your tongue. You couldn't help it, the mere presence of your soulmate sending anxiety skyrocketing down your spine. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

“I didn't really expect my company and Wayne Enterprises to be working together.” You continued, a fake smile plastered onto your face. “What a nice coincidence!”

“I hope for us to have a successful collaboration.” Tim replies, still smiling. “But enough about the companies, it's been so long since I've seen you, and I didn't have your number to text.”

You laugh in response, a pale imitation of a real laugh. You had hoped to focus on discussing the work you both had to do first, and then escape before any catch up talks were attempted. Unfortunately, it appears that Tim won't let you do any actual work before engaging with him.

Your nails dug into your knees, an attempt to stay calm. Your reply was measured.

“Oh are you sure? Surely it would be better to get work on the collaboration done first, then we’ll have all the time left to chat freely.”

“I wouldn't worry about that, really. We’ve got plenty of time together, and I wouldn't be able to work without knowing how you're doing lately. Since you didn't have the time to text, I presume you've been busy?”

“Ah, right! Yes! Yes I have been, busy that is, you know how it is with work. Endless and all that.” You were frustrated at being pushed into a lie already. Tim was in charge here and he knew it.

“Why don't you give me your number then?” His smile was perfect, as flawless as his manipulation. “That way, when you're too busy to remember to message, I can remind you.”

You frowned. Like he didn't know your number already.

Quickly remembering you had to smile, you gave him your number, watching as he slowly typed it in, then texted. Only when you showed you received his text did he relent.

The ‘meeting’ continued on from there, Tim asking about all your hobbies and passions. Time ticked on, daylight turning to evening. Any attempt from you to redirect the conversation to either himself or work was swiftly dismissed. A small part of you admired his skill, he was playing you like a doll. You knew it, but you had no option but to play along. It was like an older sibling playing pretend with the young sibling. You hated the comparison.

The attention was unnerving. Your only solace was that neither of you had soul animals present currently, which was an absolute miracle.

Actually… what if that isn't a coincidence at all? Could this too have been engineered? Was that even possible?

“So then what’s your opinion on..” The sound of Tim’s voice slammed you back to reality. You quickly focused back in, fearing losing any advantage due to a lack of attention.

Abruptly, an alarm sounded, the noise blazing a path through your eardrums. You jolted in surprise. Tim however, was barely rattled. A frown appeared on his face as he glanced at his phone.

“That was the Arkham Asylum breakout alarm. It's no longer safe to go outside.” With these words Tim got up, walking over to the door and opening it.

“What…?” You mumbled, horrified.

“Stay here.” He commanded, a firm tone in his voice. This was Red Robin. “I’m going to check on the building, don't leave, it isn't safe.”

“Wait! But.. the collaboration.. we didn't..” The words rushed out of your mouth, leaving you feeling like a fool as Tim paused for a moment, to look at you.

“Don't worry.” He smiled, the weight of it bearing down upon you. You felt small. “You can just come in tomorrow, I'm sure your company won't mind.” With the final word said, Tim closed the door, presumably rushing off to become Red Robin. The click of the door felt like a dismissal, a scolding. A reminder to stay in your place.

Once again, you were trapped.

You clenched your fists. He wanted you to stay here, in his territory. You didn't doubt that Wayne Enterprises had amazing security, probably some of the best considering the identities of the owners. This was likely the third most safe place in Gotham, with the first and second places going to Batman’s base and Wayne Manor.

But… you haven't learned anything yet. All that time spent with him and somehow he hadn't brought up that singular, obvious fact. There was no way he didn't know, not with the way he was acting. And yet, he hadn't brought it up. Why?

What was he getting out of this?

Was he hoping that if you assumed he didn't know then you could easily be monitored? Was he just gathering information before acting? Where was the rest of the vigilantes in this?

Your head was spinning, going in circles. You couldn't understand him, you couldn't understand any of them. Why choose to be vigilantes, knowing the costs that life endures? Why were you tied to them, when you were so against a fundamental part of their existence?

You couldn't understand this at all. How could this be the basis of a soulmate bond?

You were… opposites.

You felt the telltale beat of an oncoming headache. For your own sanity, you decided to fold the incoming soulmate crisis into a small cavity of your brain to panic about later.

Fact One: There was an ongoing Arkham Asylum breakout, everyone is either being attacked, hiding away or escaping the city.

Fact Two: Batman and all his partners are going to be occupied for at least several hours if not a day.

Fact Three: You were going to take advantage of this.

It was the perfect time. All your soulmates were occupied, so none of them would be able to pay any attention to you. Red Robin might know your identity, and so the other vigilantes may know as well.

That didn't need to matter. They may have the information, but information itself is useless, if they are unable to act.

Right now, any Gothamite that isn't involved with rogues is either hiding or escaping. You could join the escapes, and get out of Gotham in the rush.

You didn't have to stay here, to play the role of a caged bird. You could escape, before they even got a chance.

You had to try.

You suppressed a shaky sigh, getting up and walking to the door. You tried the door handle.

Locked.

Uh oh. You tried it again, and then a few more times after that, shaking the door eventually in your desperation. Oh come on! You desperately thought to yourself. The one time you finally got the perfect chance and it's being ruined by a locked door.

Wait. You glanced at the small window in the door, the beginnings of an idea sprouting in your head. You glance over at Tim’s desk, noticing a small paper weight. You smile.

Lifting the paperweight, you judge the weight to be enough. Holding it up, you get into position to throw.

Wait.. the door has a keyhole, not a sliding chain, you realize, almost too late.

Ah.

Well that would have been embarrassing.

Sadly, you place the paperweight back down. There goes that idea.

But that wasn't the only door in the office, there was another one, the one that the shouting voice left out of. You approach the door, trying the doorknob.

Click!

It opens! Giving a small laugh, you advance through the door and out into the halls of Wayne Enterprises, a jubilant smile on your face. Whoever was shouting at Tim earlier, you almost wanted to thank them.

You avoid the elevators, instead picking stairs, as you presumed they may also be in lockdown. It didn't take you too long to get down to the ground floor, since the main walking areas were now barren of people.

The ground floor had some unfortunate news to offer you though. The once wildly open doors had now been locked down and barred, an iron wall between you and freedom.

Although, maybe there was some other way, you thought, eyeing the anxious security guards patrolling the front entrance.

Pulling out of your hiding spot, you approach the guards, making to time your steps, making noise to not scare them. You really didn't want to get shot before you had even left the safety of the building.

“P-please help me!” You stuttered, trembling with tears in your eyes. The guards jolted in surprise, turning to face you. They were expecting threats from the outside, not the inside.

“I need to get home, I can't stay here.” You sobbed, the guards pausing in confusion. They didn't know what to do with you.

“What’s wrong?” A sympathetic guard asked, patting you gently on the back. You almost felt bad.

“I need to go home!” You repeated, tone frantic.

A disgruntled guard stepped up to you. “Look, no one can leave right now. Company policy. It isn't safe, there's been an Arkham breakout. Just sit tight, and whatever’s waiting for you at home will be there when you get back.”

“N-no…” You mumbled. “You don't understand.. I have.. I have a cat, waiting for me.” You glance up, watching the expressions on their faces. They seem unmoved. “A-and my child!” You cry out, realizing you needed a better lie.

“A child?” The disgruntled guard repeated, sounding a little more sympathetic, but clearly not convinced. He eyed you up and down, evidentially thinking you looked a little too young.

“They're so little, but my cat likes to take care of them and I needed the money so, so I left them at home alone today. But recently they're been figuring out how to open doors and if anything happened to them I don't know what I’d d-” Your frantic lie is cut off, the disgruntled guard laying a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright listen. None of us can escort you, we're here on the job.”

You nodded, feeling exuberation rush through you.

“But if anything happened, run right back here, alright?”

You nodded again, fighting a smile on your face. The guards unlocked the doors, watching you dash out with frowns on their tired faces.

They were obvious to the beaming smirk on yours.

Nights in Gotham are by nature a little terrifying, but they're nothing compared to an Arkham breakout night. Shadows crawled up alleyways, the smell of booze and smoke lingering in a way it never could on normal nights. The terror was so pungent in the air, you could almost taste it. It was on the tip of your tongue.

Every so often you'd hear a scream, and you'd walk a little faster. Ideally you would have committed to the stealth route, but you had wasted enough time already.

Your house was on the way to the bus station, so you could easily pop in, grab essentials, and get out. You wouldn't lie, you were nervous. Every so often you’d feel your knees lose strength, and you'd have to fight with your body to regain the strength to stand.

But at this point it was either the horror of whatever your soulmates had in store for you, or the horrors of Arkham night. You'd already picked your poison, now it was time to swallow.

You took a breath in, then out, and continued walking. You were almost there.

The streets of Gotham stretched on endlessly, a cacophony of fear.

Just a bit longer.

A gunshot sounded nearby, the noise blasting through your eardrum.

Almost there.

The hum of a van's engine rushed through the night, haunting laughter echoing through the road.

You could see your house!

You beamed, a smile lighting up your face, as you practically skipped up to the entrance. You reached into your bag to withdraw your keys.

You had just retrieved them when a crowbar smashed into your head.

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Wow umh, please pray for reader guys, this is NOT going well for them. Who do you think that was?

Me writing shenanigans for this chapter:

I just really feel like reader should smash open this window, let's do it. Wait. They wouldn't have doors that work like that. so reader sadly puts the heavy object down :(

Also me: yeah so reader lies here and it's an absolute mess

Also also me: rip reader that's a lotta head trauma omg

Sorry for the lack of soul animals this chapter :(( there's a reason I swear

The next chapter is definitely gonna be a bit insane, for sure! The soul animals return then anddd in droves!

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger @sociallyakwardpanda

@imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu

If I missed anyone out im super sorry! I generally check the replies for the current chapter and messages for people that want to be tagged, so it's possible for people to slip by

Just remind me again and I'll be sure to add you! (This also goes for if I misspell you accidentally, which also happens cuz I type them all manually)

For some reason I couldnt tag anymore people until I put a random space in-between the tags, so that's apparently a thing. If anyone has any ideas why, I'm listening

1K notes · View notes

too-deviant · 9 months ago

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jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour

notes: speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well.

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours.

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it.

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss.

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster.

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty.

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse.

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp.

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got.

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery.

It was cute.

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley.

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over.

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan.

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name.

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow.

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.”

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.”

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.”

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion.

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.”

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.”

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly.

“And that?”

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did.

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face!

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered.

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp.

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill.

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day.

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go.

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked.

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.”

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response.

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes.

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet.

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable.

But you really needed to pee.

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door.

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke.

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!”

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up.

“Be quick.”

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed.

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan.

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence.

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.”

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour.

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.”

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.”

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t.

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater.

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be.

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off.

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion.

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe.

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything.

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.”

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse.

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?”

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.”

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on.

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation.

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow.

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

#@lia’s works #joined a new england subreddit for this fic #so pls give it some love #taking requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo

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hwaflms · 7 months ago

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wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]

{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?

[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader

[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au

[☆] wc. 4.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!

[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!

from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.

this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.

you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.

and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.

jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.

at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.

so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.

maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.

forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.

“can i help you?”

can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.

he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.

but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”

you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”

you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.

“you couldn’t ask chenle?”

“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.

he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”

all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.

“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”

at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.

he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”

it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?

it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.

much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.

“stand up.”

your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.

noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”

of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.

with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.

you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.

when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.

the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”

it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”

he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.

this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.

you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”

you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”

you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.

“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”

the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.

he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”

he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.

he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.

he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”

you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.

you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.

“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”

you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”

more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.

he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.

you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”

your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”

you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.

as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”

you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”

you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”

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hritika13-tamboli · 8 months ago

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Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...

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Series :

Day by day || dilf!jungkook x best friend!reader (f) | single dad au || @hansolmates

Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

Aim for the heart || hitman!jk x female reader | hitman au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Bedeviled || demon!jungkook x female reader | demon au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it. Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Animal : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 || Boxer Jungkook x Reader | boxer au || @cutaepatootie

Summary : The girl looked at the man who was in his 60s , lying on the hospital bed fighting for his life, he was trying to talk with her “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

Into the woods || goblin jungkook x reader | goblin au || @junqkook

Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

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One-shot :

The habits of the broken heart || Jungkook x reader | soulmate au || @softykooky

Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Something in the heir || knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader | non-royalty palace au || @hisunshiine

Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.

Miracle of the season || Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F! reader | angel au | soulmate au || @cybrsan

Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Amortentia || Jungkook x reader | hogwarts au || @jungkxook

Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

Black magic || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

(Un)crushed || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally

What's wrong? || Jungkook x reader | slice of life!au || @oddinary4bts

Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

High demand || Dealer! Jungkook x Reader || @bunnyhugs77

Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet

Coin toss ||Jungkook x reader detective | agency au || @yoondoze

Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 1 month ago

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nymph. [2/2] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary: you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you

Warnings: +18, smut, fluff, oral sex (f!receiver), unprotected sex (don't do it), mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

>> PART 1

You gasped for air. Brown gentle eyes were staring at you as if you were an incredible miracle that suddenly found itself in his arms.

Marcus wanted to say something and the words were already forming in his mouth when he saw the fear in your face. With a quick movement you slid off him, sitting on the edge of the bed, just like a wild animal that was ready to run away.

"Wait. Don't be afraid." he whispered, sitting up and slightly raising his hand, "You're in no danger from me."

There was no answer, but you didn't run away either. You watched him carefully, though. The glow of the candle flames danced on his bare chest, and his face showed curiosity, delight, but also fear.

When General Acacius woke up, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen was sitting on his hips, with a face that had haunted his dreams for so long. He wanted to get to know you, but at the same time he had the impression that he knew you so well.

"I've seen you before." he said finally. He tried to choose his words carefully, he didn't want to scare you. Your eyes twitched at the sound of his voice. "After the battle. You were standing there, in the middle of all those corpses... So beautiful and so intimidating at the same time."

"It was a terrible battle." you replied quietly, and Marcus was delighted to finally be able to hear the sound of your voice too. "Many lost their lives... Many tears were shed by the mothers of the fallen..."

He heard the pain in your voice as if you had also physically suffered during that event.

"Why did I see you?" the question he had been carrying around in himself for so long finally came out "Who or what are you, sweet bird?"

You looked away as if you were trying to find the answer to Marcus' question yourself. It wasn't easy or obvious. However, you knew that you had to be honest with him, because that was the only way both of you could enter a common path.

"I am... I was a servant of the goddess Minerva. One of many." you answered.

"Nymph?"

You nodded. "Yes, that's what you call us and that's the name we took." You took a deep breath. "You saw me, Marcus, because I lost my guard for a moment. It shouldn't have happened..."

"Why?" he was surprised.

He carried this memory of you like his most precious treasure, and the knowledge that he had acquired it unfairly, almost stealing it, hurt him a little.

"I didn't want you to know about me..." you replied quietly "I was supposed to be like the wind enveloping you, I was only supposed to watch and accompany you... I guess I got too involved."

The General moved a little closer. You quivered uneasily when his warm fingers brushed your bare shoulder, your eyes looked at him in fright.

"I've felt you by my side for so long..." he said, tracing his fingers that were roaming over your soft skin, so different from the roughness of war "You drilled under my skin so deeply that even a red-hot iron couldn't get you out. You were like a grace from the Gods, like a blessing... Don't take away my hope that you were meant for me."

"Only the Gods know what is meant for us." his fingers moved to your shoulder, and a strange shiver ran down your spine.

"So why do you say that what happened to us was just an accident? A mistake? I think that's what they wanted for us."

You sucked in a breath through your parted lips, and your chest rose sharply.

Maybe there was a grain of truth in what he was saying, maybe the Gods really had been planning this for you for years.

Was it really an accident that you found yourself near this man? Could it be an accident that his eyes finally saw you then? You didn't know the answer to these questions. All you could do was flow with Marcus as it was planned for you...

His closeness stunned your senses, just like incense did in temples. Unconsciously, your hand found his cheek. Marcus closed his eyes as if your touch was a pleasure he had never experienced before.

"The Gods bless you, Marcus." you said, stroking his face, running your fingertips over the small wrinkles around his eyes, over the scar on his cheek. "All your successes and victories, the glory you brought to the Empire, all of this is the sum of your strength and their love."

"It's all just dust if I can't have your love, sweet bird." he lifted his eyelids and in his brown eyes you saw that these weren't empty words "May the earth swallow me, may the Gods curse me if I can't know the taste of your lips... That's all I've been dreaming about for so long..."

Not a single word left your mouth. When your lips brushed his, you already knew that you'd never forget that taste.

The next touches were as gentle as the touch of a butterfly's wings, but Marcus wanted more with every moment. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, then he kissed you with all his might. You had never experienced a kiss like this before, deep and full of lust, almost stealing your breath and soul.

You clung to his strong body, your hands sliding into his curly hair as you kissed him back as if that was the only thing that could keep you alive. His tongue deep in your throat drew sweet moans from you. But then you felt something else beneath you, his hard manhood twitching lustfully.

You finally pulled your lips away from his, rested your forehead against his, feeling his hands caressing your back hidden under the soft robe.

"My dreams were full of you." Marcus whispered, he looked at you, but you had the impression that he didn't see you at all, as if all his senses were playing tricks on him. "But reality is even more beautiful, more perfect..."

"Forgive me, please. It was the only way I could pretend that I was one of you, mortals. It was the only way I could accompany you, even for a moment." You slid your hands to his chest, you felt the strong beating of his heart under his skin.

"Since you are like me now, you can experience it yourself. For real."

He saw a flash of fear in your eyes, but also suppressed hope. "Do you want me, Marcus?"

"More than all the gold in the world we know. More than glory and immortality. If being with you was the last thing I would do before I died, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment."

There was no lie in his gaze. There was no empty desire that you sometimes saw in other people's eyes. This man wanted you, all of you, just as you were. He loved you before he was even able to lay a finger on you.

"So take me as I am. Give me this moment so I can love you..."

"I'll give you my whole life for this, little bird..."

You kissed again, and his hands carefully slid the robe you were wearing from your shoulders. The curves of your breasts revealed themselves before his eyes, your nipples hardened from the change in temperature and fear. But you weren't afraid of Marcus, nor were you afraid of what was about to happen.

But you realized that every time he looked at you was the first real one. It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a stolen moment on a battlefield. You were there with him. Alive, with a beating heart, with blood flowing through your veins. The same as him, mortal.

Marcus' lips kissed your jaw and slowly went down your neck, all the way to your collarbone. He took your breasts in his hands, kneading them gently, feeling their softness, his fingers caressing your nipples as his lips showered your shoulders with kisses.

"Marcus..." you sighed, closing your eyes, desire flared in your lower abdomen, and his caresses only strengthened it.

"I've never wanted anyone like I want you." he whispered, one of his hands slid lower, right between your spread thighs, "I want to lose myself in your body..."

He felt how wet you were under his fingers, proof that you wanted him too. He ran his fingers over your folds, and then found the place where your body tensed in a pleasant sensation.

In one swift movement he laid you on your back on the bed, his lips finding yours again as his hands greedily removed your robes. Finally, you were naked beneath him, the glow of the candles dancing on your skin. Perfect.

A trail of kisses stretched between your breasts, across your stomach, and to the inside of your thighs. You gasped loudly as his hot tongue licked your core. Marcus threw your legs over his shoulders so you couldn't escape his mouth, which sucked and licked your most sensitive spots.

Moans and spasms escaped your throat, fingers tightening in his hair as he, hidden between your thighs, shamelessly brought you to the edge of pleasure.

He sucked and kissed, long licks through your folds, drinking your juices sweeter to him than the best wine. And when a loud moan escaped your throat carrying his name, he knew he had paid you the proper homage.

He raised himself on his shoulders and looked at you from between your trembling thighs. His beard and lips were shining, his hair, thanks to you, was a total mess. But it was his eyes, darker than before, that drew you to him.

You quickly sat up and took his face in your hands, moved to kiss his lips that tasted of you.

His whole body was tense, wanting your closeness, the relief that only you could give him. One of your hands shamelessly reached for his strained cock, stroking it. Marcus' lips parted in your kiss at this sweet pleasure.

"I beg you..." he panted "I want to feel you."

So you pulled him behind you, and he fenced you with his broad arms. The tip of his cock, guided by Marcus' hand, brushed against your entrance and slowly slid into you. A pleasant feeling of stretching and filling spread through your body, but it was only when Marcus slid in completely and hid his face by your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, that you felt that he was fully inside you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stunned by how complete you felt in the arms of this man. You didn't notice when he lifted his head to watch your face with the first thrust of his hips.

At first it was slow, just enough for you to get used to his size and how you felt him inside you. But when your legs closed around his waist, it was a signal for him that he could allow himself more.

Marcus raised himself on his shoulders, curls falling over his forehead, dark eyes shining with excitement as he stared into your face. To him, you were equal to the Gods. Your parted lips, slightly closed eyes, the quiet moans escaping from your core as he moved faster and harder inside you - it was worthy of worship in temples.

"Marcus... Please..."

You didn't ask for anything specific. Maybe just for him to end this, because you weren't sure if the next fulfillment that was building in your lower abdomen wasn't meant to be your end.

Could ordinary people survive feeling so much? It was almost too much, and all you just had was your first sip, your first bite, your first breath with him by your side.

His hand grabbed yours and pressed it to the pillow just above your head, your fingers intertwined almost painfully, but you didn't care. You opened your eyes to look into Marcus’s focused face. Furrowed brows, quickened breathing and his hips perfectly slapping and grinding between your legs.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel how perfectly you fit me?" his voice was low, hitting you with a vibrating sound, as if you were a copper bowl in his hands. "They made you for me. Just for me... They couldn't be wrong. Ugh! I want to fill you with my seed, my love..."

"Do it... Mark me as yours..."

His. You were his. You were no longer just a fleeting being between worlds, doomed to live forever. You could feel, love, desire, but also suffer, cry and lose. But you wanted all of that if you could have it with Marcus.

His movements became stronger, his hand tightening on your thigh as he slammed into you. Then you reached your peak, tears pricking your eyelids, your body arching from the fulfillment that went through you like a bolt of lightning.

Marcus was right behind you. When your velvet walls squeezed his cock, he knew that he would only want to feel you for the rest of his life. A few more, strong thrusts, a low and deep moan escaped his throat as he tilted his head, showing you his beautiful neck. His seed filled you up, to the brims, and his cock twitched in the remnants of an orgasm.

If one of your sisters had been with you in that tent at that time, she would have had a truly amazing view. Your tangled and sweaty bodies, your deep breaths, the sweet and suffocating scent filling this place.

"Marcus..." you whispered, brushing his wet hair away from his face.

He mumbled something incomprehensible, and you laughed quietly. He seemed completely dazed. However, he raised his head and looked at you, his eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming. Tell me you're really here. With me."

These words were like a pleading prayer addressed only to you. Even though he had you in his arms, even though his cock was still buried inside you, he still feared that you were just a dream.

"I am. I am with you, Marcus. And if you only let me, I will stay until the last beat of my heart."

"The Gods are truly kind to me."

He stole a kiss from you, still hungry for more. A strange feeling of emptiness came as he pulled out of you and lay down next to you, pulling you so that you were as close to him as possible. His seed lazily dripped down your thigh.

"Tomorrow we go back to Rome." he said, but he sounded like he didn't want to think about it. "I will take care of your safety. You will be able to find shelter in my home" his fingers drew unknown signs on your arm "I don’t want you to find yourself in the Emperor's court right away. You are too good for this..."

"The Gods have their own plans for him." Marcus kissed the tips of your fingers that brushed his lips.

"Do not say that in front of other people. Betrayal is severely punished." he said and you nodded "In Rome we can only trust ourselves, little bird. And I will do everything to make you happy and safe."

"You are enough for me."

He kissed your forehead, hugging you even tighter. Marcus was still afraid that despite everything you would dissolve like morning mist. He was afraid that he would wake up in an empty bed, that he would return to Rome alone, and the memory of you would fade with each passing day. He couldn’t bear it.

However, when he opened his eyes, after a few hours of deep and soothing sleep, you were still next to him. You were curled up at his side, sleeping, beautiful as every time he saw you.

He didn't think he could ever get used to the sight. You were the grace of the Gods, their gift to him. A prize more precious than anything the Emperor could give him.

"You are safe, little bird..." he said softly, kissing your temple. "I will never stop loving you. For the rest of our lives, for eternity."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing

#pedro pascal #general marcus acacius x fem!reader #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #general acacius #general marcus acacius #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius x female reader

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you-have-a-metal-arm · 3 months ago

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'Til The End of The Line pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of hospitals

Summary: You get injured in a mission, and Bucky cannot bear to see you in such state.

Author's Note: Please do not copy or translate my work. English is not my first language, so please understand grammar or spelling mistakes.

Thank you for those who enjoyed the first part, and thank you again for waiting.

Part 2 is now yours.

The world around Bucky seemed to blur as he followed the medical team through the corridor. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum. The sight of you lying so still, bloodied and broken, was something he never thought he’d see—not like this, not when he hadn’t even told you how much he loved you that morning.

As Dr. Cho and her team wheeled you into the surgical room, Bucky’s steps faltered. He felt like he was wading through quicksand, every movement heavy and slow. He wanted to be with you, to hold your hand, to tell you that everything would be okay. But he was kept out of the room, forced to watch through the glass as the doors closed behind you.

Tony, standing beside him, placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, Bucky. She’ll pull through.”

But Tony’s words felt hollow to Bucky. He had seen too much death, too much loss. The fear of losing you was like a knife twisting in his gut. He couldn’t lose you—not when you were his reason to keep fighting, his anchor in the storm.

His mind raced back to the last few months—the mornings spent in quiet domesticity, the late-night talks about the future, the way you laughed at his terrible jokes. How could it all be ripped away in a single moment?

Bucky pressed his hand against the glass, his breath fogging up the cold surface. His other hand clenched into a fist, the tension coiled tight in his chest. The image of you, fragile and bleeding, burned into his mind.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours—he couldn’t tell. Time had no meaning as he stood there, waiting, praying, hoping for a miracle.

Tony stayed by his side, silent. Steve joined them, his face drawn and pale. The guilt weighed heavily on Steve’s shoulders, and Bucky could see it. But Bucky had no room for blame—only a desperate need for you to come back to him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Cho emerged from the operating room. Her face was tired, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “She’s stable, but it was touch and go for a while.”

Bucky’s knees almost buckled with relief, but he held himself upright by sheer will. “Can I see her?”

Dr. Cho nodded. “She’s still unconscious, but you can sit with her. It’s important she has someone she loves nearby when she wakes up.”

Bucky didn’t wait for further permission. He pushed past the others and entered the room where you lay. The sight of you hooked up to monitors, IVs, and machines tore at his heart, but at least you were alive. Your chest rose and fell steadily, and the color was slowly returning to your cheeks.

He pulled up a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. The warmth of your skin, even faint, was enough to give him hope. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the lines of your face as if memorizing every detail.

“I’m here, doll,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “I’m right here. Please, come back to me.”

The room was quiet, save for the beeping of the machines that tracked your vital signs. Bucky stayed by your side, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat—he just watched you, waiting for any sign that you were waking up.

Hours passed, and the rest of the team came and went, offering support, but Bucky barely registered them. His world had narrowed down to just you, lying so still in that hospital bed.

At some point, he must have dozed off because he was startled awake by a faint pressure on his hand. His eyes flew open, and he looked down to see your fingers twitching slightly in his grasp.

“Y/N?” His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering weakly. It took you a moment to orient yourself, but when your eyes finally opened, they were full of confusion and pain. “B-Buck?” Your voice was hoarse, barely audible.

“I’m here, doll, I’m right here.” Bucky’s relief was palpable as he squeezed your hand gently, his eyes misting over. “You’re okay. You made it.”

A weak smile tugged at your lips, though the effort seemed to exhaust you. “I… I thought… I wasn’t going to make it.”

“You did, though,” Bucky whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re safe now. We’re together.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your hand trembling slightly in his grasp. “I… I heard you… on the comms. I was so scared… that I’d never see you again.”

“It’s quite a miracle that she woke up. But we still must keep an eye out for any damage to her brain,” the doctor said.

“I’ll call Dr. Cho for further checkups. My job’s done for now.” The doctor left, and Bucky’s gaze returned to you.

Bucky sat back down beside you, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he clutched your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He couldn't believe you were awake, breathing, speaking to him. The terror of almost losing you hadn’t yet faded from his mind.

You looked at him, your voice barely a whisper but full of the love you had for him. “Hey, I told you I’m not going anywhere, didn’t I?”

Bucky let out a shaky laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, feeling the warmth of your skin that he thought he’d never feel again. “You scared the hell out of me, doll. I thought—”

His voice cracked, and he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I know, I know,” you whispered, your free hand weakly brushing the tears from his cheeks. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Buck.”

He pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes swimming with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, his voice barely holding together.

“I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand with as much strength as you could muster. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, Bucky just stared at you, memorizing every line of your face as if afraid it might vanish if he looked away. The weight of everything he had almost lost hung heavily in the air between you, but so did the promise of the future you still had together.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the intensity of the words.

“More than anything in this world.”

“I love you too, Buck,” you replied softly, your eyes shining with the same intensity. “And I’m sorry for putting you through this. For making you worry so much.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. You’re the strongest person I know, and you’re going to get better. We’re going to get through this, and then we’ll live that life we talked about.”

A small, hopeful smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, with the house, the backyard, and maybe… maybe even those babies.”

Bucky’s heart swelled with emotion at the thought. The future seemed so far away, but with you here, with your hand in his, it felt possible again. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice choked with emotion. “We’ll have that. I promise you, we’ll have that.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, exhaustion weighing heavily on you, but you fought to stay awake, to stay with him. “I’m going to hold you to that, Barnes.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You better. I’m not going anywhere either, doll. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” you whispered, finally allowing yourself to drift off to sleep, knowing that Bucky would be right there when you woke up again.

As you slept, Bucky stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours tightly. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink, afraid that if he did, this fragile moment of peace would shatter. But as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, he let himself believe that everything was going to be okay. That the darkness had passed, and the light of a new day would bring the life you both deserved.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky allowed himself to hope.

---------------------------------

Tag list @baw1066 @hzdhrtss @mrsnikstan

---------------------------------

Thank you for reading and enjoy your weekend :)

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storiesfromafan · 3 months ago

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I'm Sorry Baby - Benny x Reader

A/N: I am back! And with Part 4 of my Spitfire series. This one was fun to write...as I am throwing myself into a bit of smut 😅

Also, want to thank @strayrockette for reading and advising on my attempt at smut 😂 I appricate her opinion.

Warning: my attemtp at smut after 10+ years, which even then might not have been good. So please, go easy on me 😅 also, might be grammer and spelling mistakes.

Tag list: tagging those that previously comment, in case you were looking forward to the next part haha.

@redwitchbitch1 @bellesdreamyprofile @cherryaustin

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A few days after his return, and you pretty much throwing him out, Benny had been staying in a motel. He had been thinking everything over, trying to work out how to get back in your good graces. So, here he was at the bar, currently sitting with Johnny. With a short glass in hand, half full of amber liquid, Benny's poison of choice. He was having a talk with the one person he could talk too. One married man to another.

“What did ya expect, kid? Her to welcome ya back with open arms?” Johnny chuckled taking a sip from his glass.

“Nuh...but I didn’t think I’d get the door shut in my face” Benny sighed.

Johnny softly laughed. “She’s hurtin’. If ya could have heard her” – a look of guilt crossed Benny’s face – “Well, ya get what I mean...”

Benny nodded, taking a sip from his glass, eyes looking off into a void.

“Look kid” Johnny began, sitting up and leaning in, “woman are tricky. Wives are trickier. In a relationship there is two of ya. Not just you, or her. The two of ya. Yeah, she told ya to leave. But it was you who made that choice”.

Again, Benny nodded his head.

“But I’m not sayin' it’s your fault. It’s both of ya's fault in some way. Why hadn’t you been goin’ home at a decent hour?”

Benny shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve always been here, I guess...”

“You guess?” Questioned the Vandal leader. “You’re crazy about the spitfire, yeah?”

“Yeah” was all Benny said.

“Then you should have been goin' home to her. The club will still be here the next day. The knuckleheads will still be knuckleheads. But your woman, she ain’t somethin’ to take for granted” Johnny pointed his finger at Benny as he said that.

And he knew Johnny was right. Benny was crazy for you, had been since he saw you. He was crazy for your sass and attitude, for your fire. But also your caring and warmness to him. You were something special, something he had taken for granted. Benny was determined to get you back, one way or another. He would fight for you, fight for your relationship.

“What do I have to do to get her back?” Benny asked the older Vandal.

“I’d say get on ya knees and grovel” Johnny downed the last of his drink. “A woman with her spirit, she ain’t gonna just roll over. Your gonna have to show her what she means to ya. Or pray for a miracle”.

Getting up, Johnny patted Benny on the back laughing. He knew his younger Vandal was in for a fun time. But he wished him luck, and hoped it all worked out. Benny stared at the last of the liquid in his glass, before downing it and placing the glass on the table. Now he had to think of what he could do to win you back.

Finally it was closing time at the salon. Your feet were aching, and you had a small headache from listening to client after client either gossip or complain about life. You loved your job, but women could be so catty. And then there was Benny, and his reappearance a couple days ago. How it weighed on your mind and heart.

Betty had called you last night to let you know where he’d been staying, and how he was going. Apparently she’d seen him that day and he didn’t seem himself, lost in his thoughts. And that he hadn’t gone to the bar for long. She thinks he was riding most of the night, or back in his motel room. She believes he was thinking of you, and your relationship. You thanked her for the information before ending the call.

Part of you felt guilty, and missed him like crazy. But that fire in you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, for him to realise what he did and learn a lesson. You helped the owner clean up while she handled the till and books. You both conversed on the day in the shop, laughing at bits of gossip you’d both learned about other clients.

“So, how are you doing?” Sophia – salon owner – asked peering over at you, as you swept.

“Yeah, I’m alright” you replied off handedly.

Sophia nodded. “I heard Benny’s back, I take it he came home?”

You nodded. “Yeah...but I didn’t let him back in. I need my space”.

With that you collected the hair and moved to the back, where you’d dispose of it. The conversation done with, for now. Sophia wasn’t blind. She’d see how the week without your husband effected you. And how closed in and shut off you’d been. But Sophia also saw how happy you’d been when you got with Benny. Compared to your ex, this relationship was much better and you were the happiest she’d seen you.

With all the end of day chores done, you and Sophia headed out the front door. You were the last, closing the door and locking it for your boss. She always struggled to get the lock secure, so you just do it, since it seemed to like you. Sometimes you’d even be the one to lock up, and gave Sophia an early mark.

“Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes” Sophia said softly.

You’d just secured the lock, before turning to the woman, that was looking to across the road. Following her gaze you were greeted to the sight of your husband, who was leant against his parked bike. It reminded you of when he’d pick you up after work, seeing him after you’d finish work. How he'd light up when seeing you coming towards him, and how you’d greet him with a sweet kiss. But now you weren’t sure what to do.

“Are you gonna go to him?” Sophia questioned, turning back to you.

You shook your head before heading to your car, Sophia followed, as her car was next to you. Once coming to the cars she stopped you, she gave you a soft, small smile.

“Look Hun, can I give you some advice?” – You nodded for her to go – “there will always be fights in a relationship. But I know how much that man means to you, and no doubt it’s the same for him. So, don’t let this fight stop you from being with him, alright?”

You let her words sink in before slowly nodding your head. “I’ll try not to Sophia...but right now, I need some time...”

She nodded. “I know, but don’t take too long. He’s too good looking to stay away from” she teased with a wink, which made you softly laugh.

You hadn’t laughed in a little while at a teasing remark about Benny. Maybe you were already beginning to get over it. But you would give it a little more time till you were completely ready to have Benny back in your house and your bed. With a see you tomorrow, you both got in your cars and left. Briefly you looked to Benny as you drove out of the car park, and headed home.

Benny had watched the whole time you left the salon, to getting to your car. He could see how you and your boss talked, and saw how the woman had looked to him first. And when you looked to him, he felt his breath catch in his chest. You didn’t look mad or upset, it was more a blank stare at him. And he understood you still needed time. But he would make sure to be close by, keeping an eye on you and looking out for you, ready for whenever you needed him. It was one way to show you he was there, and not going anywhere from now on.

The little things will show how I care, he told himself.

Benny watched you drive off, not moving to go after you, not yet anyways. Taking out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips before lighting it up. Taking a long drag, he removed the cigarette before releasing the smoke. Benny smoked the cigarette but didn’t enjoy it as much as he usually would, it was just a way to distract himself and fill time. It was you that he was craving more then the cigarette. Craved your attention, your smile, your lips, your warmth. He craved you wholly.

The following day you arrived at work just before nine, you knocked on the door and Sophia let you. With a morning to each other, you put away your bag and got ready for your day to begin. It was going to be a relative busy day, which you didn’t mind. It was yourself, Sophia and another woman named Ella. Between the three of you, you could get a good amount done.

When your first client showed up, an older woman who was a bit of a stick in the mud, you wasted no time in getting her set up in your chair. Draping the cape over her, you made pleasantries. Though you know she did not like you, just your work. She was a stuck up woman, who you knew talked about you behind your back. But you did your best work, that way she couldn't run you down on it.

It was just after ten, the salon bustling with activity, when a delivery man came into the shop, in his hand a lovely bunch of flowers. He stepped into the shop, a little shyly. You watched him in the mirror before you, thinking those flowers had to be from Sophia's husband for her.

Sophia spoke to the young man, taking the flowers before thanking him. He didn't waste time to leave the shop and move on to his next delivery. One of the clients, being nosey, asked Sophia if they were hers. She was looking at the beautiful flowers before spotting a card. A look of surprise crossed her face, before a small smile crossed her lips.

“Mrs Carpenter, I wish they were, but they're not for me" mused Sophia.

All the women in the shop looked to Sophia, then around at each other. All wondering which of them they were for. Some probably hoped their husbands had sent them flowers on a whim, to surprise and cheer them up as they got their hair done. But they’d be wrong.

With the flowers in hand Sophia stepped around from the counter. She moved across the room and came to stand beside you. She was smiling at you as she looked at you in the mirror. They were for you. You should have guessed from the various flowers that you liked, making up the arrangement.

“Seems these are yours Hun" commented Sophia, holding out the flowers for you. “Why don't you go put them in some water out the back. And read the card. I'll take over for you while you're gone".

Reluctantly you finished cutting the piece of hair you held in your fingers. “Ah, sure...” you replied, unsure and uneasy.

Taking the flowers from your boss, you slowly moved from the floor and into the back. All the time questioning who would have sent you flowers? You didn't wait, taking the card from the flowers and laying them on the counter by the sink. You held the small envelop in your hand, reading your name before turning it over. You took a moment, looking at it once more before shakily opening the seal.

Slowly you removed the card, and taking a breath before finally reading what it said:

Flower's for my girl, my wife.

I hope they brighten your day,

Just like you will always brighten mine.

Love Benny.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his words. Words that he couldn't always say. Word's he knew you needed to read. For Benny knew how your days at the salon could be. He had seen how you come home, tired and drained. How you would have good days and bad days. He would listen to you tell him about the bitchiest women, who were the worst to deal with. But also how joyous you were when you had a day of nothing but sweet, lovely women.

Benny sent you a reminder that you were the brightest thing in his life, just as he was yours. You smiled softly, clutching the card delicately in your hand. Your chest aching with thoughts of your husband, and missing him. Maybe it was time to start working on getting your relationship back on track. Yes, this was the start. But you would make sure that man knew he had some serious work to do if he wanted you back completely.

Fixing up the flowers in a make shift vase. You walked back onto the salon shop floor, silence rolling in when you came back. All eyes watching you as you placed the flowers on the front counter. They noticed the sparkle in your eyes, along with a small smile on your lips.

“Take it the contents of that card were good, huh?” Teased Sophia, various women giggling.

You rolled your eyes. “If you must know, it was...”

Sophia smiled brightly and giggled. “Guess he made a good peace offering".

“It's a start" you retorted before taking back over working on your client, leaving Sophia to go off to do what she had to do.

Locking up on your own tonight, you noticed no Benny waiting across the road today. Which surprised you. None the less you got into your car and drove home, the radio on softly and you hummed along. Your flowers were sitting on the seat next to you, every time you looked at them you would smile softly. You wondered where Benny was. Was he at the bar? Would you have to go to him? Or could he have changed his mind?

Turning onto your street, you slowly came closer to your house. Your concerns and worries died away upon seeing the person on your mind. He had parked his bike across the road, again he was resting against it. As you pulled into the drive way, you could see him watching you, cigarette between his lips.

Benny had chosen to wait for you at your shared home. He knew to wait outside rather then just waltzing inside. He didn't want to upset you, especially after sending you flowers at work. It could have got either way, in his favour or made it worse. He hadn’t long lit a cigarette and taken a few drags, before your car turned onto the street. He watched as you approached, and turned into the drive way. But Benny never moved, he was going to see if you would invite him in, back into the house and into your arms.

Getting out of the driver seat, you leant back in and grabbed the flowers. Once you were out and the door closed, you looked to Benny. Still he lent against the bike, but he straightened up once seeing the flowers in your hand. Looking to them, you brought them closer to you. After that you walked up the few stairs to the porch – the same ones Benny climbed before you slammed the door in his face – and came to the front door. You used your keys to unlock the door and pushed it open.

Crossing the threshold, you paused a moment. Then you turned around to look at your husband. You kept your face blank, but there was a calmness to it. You looked at Benny for a few minutes before closing the door, but kept it propped open. It was a way to tell him that if he wanted, he could come in. You were calm and ready to talk.

You crossed the lounge room and entered the kitchen. Placing your bag on the counter by the door way, you moved over to the sink. You placed the flowers down before fetching a glass vase. You proceeded to put some water into it, then began to undo the wrapping to the flowers.

Mean while, Benny had watched your every move from car to front door. When you stood in the door way looking to him, he was silently hoping you would call out to him to come in. When you didn't, and began to close the door, Benny thought he would have to try again tomorrow. But when the door was left open a bit, he released the breath he had been holding. Hope bubbled in him.

Benny stood up from his position against the bike, stretching out his arms as he began to walk towards the house. Taking one last drag of the cigarette, Benny removed it from his lips and flicking it away. The smoke slipping from his lips as he walked up the path to the stairs. Up he went, boots landing on the porch. He stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing the front door open slowly.

You weren't in the lounge room, but he could hear you moving around the kitchen. He closed the door before taking off his jacket and hanging it up the door. Benny crossed the room to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. He lent against the wood frame, watching you silently.

You had most of the flowers in the vase, you were just putting the remaining in and moving them around when you felt his eyes on you. It sent a shiver down your spine. Who would speak first? How would this all go?

When you had finished, you picked up the vase and moved to place it by the window on the counter. You would figure out where to put them later, for now you had to have a conversation with your husband.

“Do you like them?” Benny softly asked, when you placed them down and stared at them.

“Yes" you replied, “I like them a lot, actually...”

He nodded, though you couldn’t see it. “Good...I remember you sayin’ how you liked those kinds of flowers...”

It was awkward, but it was something, right? To know Benny remembered what flowers you liked, it showed he had been listening. And he did, majority of the time. Slowly you turned around, choosing to lean against the counter. For the first time in days you took a good hard look at Benny.

He looked tired, maybe he hadn’t been sleeping properly. His clothes – different to what you’d last seen him in – were deeply wrinkled, most likely worn when sleeping or trying to sleep. From the way he was leaning, you could tell Benny was uneasy. Not because of you, but for what could happen between you right now. He was guarded, yet trying to keep his defences down just enough so you in turn would let yours down. You could tell he didn't want to fight, he wanted to sort this out like adults. No more running, for either of you.

“...I’m sorry for leavin' baby" Benny said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have taken off like I did. Nor did I want to worry ya".

You nodded your head. “I know...”

“When I bring up leavin'...its somethin' in me that switches when a fight gets too much" Benny tried to explain. “I know its not an excuse, but I want ya to understand. But I promise I wont do it again...if I do, you can kick me out".

You chuckled. “Like I'd want you to go...” you said softly. “But Benny...you gotta know it did hurt. You just up and goin', no word of where ya were or if you were alright. I was worried sick".

Benny moved from the door frame to you, but stopped himself from pulling you to him, to hold you close and kiss away the hurt he caused. He looked at you with soft, guilty eyes. Waiting for you to give him the ok that he could touch you, hold you.

“I’m sorry for worryin' you, baby. If I could take it back, I would" Benny said softly, hands itching to rub up and down your arms.

“I know Benny...” your voice was soft, fragile. You looked at your husband with hurt eyes, only killing him more. You then looked to his hands and back to his baby blues. That was all Benny needed, for he stepped closer and pulled you to him.

Benny wrapped his arms around you, holding you closely to him for the first time in what felt like forever. Having you close felt right. You rested your head against his chest, your hands gripping his t-shirt. A few tears, that you hadn’t realised that had risen, escaped down your cheeks, they a mix of hurt but happiness.

“I’m sorry baby" Benny whispered into your hair.

You stood there for a few minutes, just letting Benny hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear. You felt better. You felt a part of you healing. Just like it was for Benny. Reluctantly Benny pulled back, moving to look at your face. Seeing the remints your tears left, he brought a hand up and whipped them away.

“Benny, you know we need to have a long talk, right?” You questioned softly, afraid he might get spooked.

He nodded. “I know, baby. I am ready for it...”

So, with a deep breath and standing where you were, not waiting to leave his space, you began. You told him how you'd been feeling, how him staying out effected you. That you wanted him to come home more, but not to take him away from the club. Benny heard you, he agreed to it. He told you how he adored that you respected his ties with the Vandals, and not trying to entirely change him, which made you laugh. Music to his ears after so long. Benny didn't ask much of you, as you had been perfect the whole time.

“I guess Johnny was right...” muttered Benny as he moved from you, as you crossed to the kitchen door way.

“Hmm?” you asked turning back to Benny.

“Johnny...I spoke to him the other day. I asked him what to do" Benny paused, gauging your reaction, with a nod he knew to go on. “He said I should grovel, or show ya what you mean to me...”

You held in a laugh at the suggestion of grovelling. “Is that why you sent flowers?”

He nodded, “but I meant them and what I wrote, baby. As well as watchin’ out for you, I wanted you to know I wasn't goin’ anywhere".

You smiled softly, moving to stand before your man. You cupped his cheek with one hand, thumb stroking his stubbled jaw. It was rough but soothing. You enjoyed feeling of it rubbing against your skin, be it your cheek, neck, inner thighs.

You moved your hand to back of Benny's head, gripping it firmly. You stared into his eyes. “I wouldn't mind you on your knees...but not necessarily grovellin’...”

You saw realisation flash in Benny's eyes when your words sunk in. Holding his head firmly, you pulled your husbands head down. Pulling his lips to meet your own, a firm closed lip kiss. The feeling of his lips against yours feeling like home. You closed your eyes, savouring your lips reuniting.

You moved to grip his hair, pulling a little. Causing Benny to groan in the most delightful way, which you had missed. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you close as he removed his lips for just a moment. Adjusting the angle, Benny brought his lips back to your waiting ones. This time it was a feverish, slightly open mouth kiss. Over and over, short and sweet. But soon Benny went in for a longer, deeper kiss.

He didn't wait for permission, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking out your own. Tongues colliding, caressing the other in a fast paced dance. You moaned into his mouth, which only made Benny return with his own. Stepping forward, Benny backed you up against the small table in the kitchen. The edge digging into your backside. Without breaking the kiss, Benny picked you up and set you on the tables edge.

Your other hand moving to cradle is cheek, while its partner ran threw his hair before pulling it occasionally. That only spurred Benny on further. His hands moved to your slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. Pulling away from the kiss, you both took a moment to get some much needed air. And in that time Benny silently instructed you to lift your hips. You did, and he removed both your slacks and underwear, leaving you sitting in bare from the waist down.

Benny wasted no time falling to his knees, as you both had mentioned. This kind of grovelling was not for forgiveness, but for your own pleasure. Benny would worship every part of you, if it would make you happy.

His rough hands moved up your calf muscles, slowly over your thighs, pushing them open wider. His eyes drinking in the sight before him, Benny placed kisses along the inside of your thighs before coming to his destination. Slowly – tongue flat – he licked at the opening of your sex. Tongue finding your hard nub, applying the right amount of pressure as he caressed it. You moaned, head tilting back, as one hand moved to Benny's hair.

Benny worshipped you with his tongue, bringing moans and praises from your lips. When he would change movements with his tongue, you would pull his hair lightly, encouraging him further. Then when he added a finger inside of you, and then a second after sometime, he had you a mess upon the table. Your free hand moved to clutch the edge of the table, trying to ground yourself. Your man knew how to worship at your alter.

“I-I need you, baby" you managed to get out, between moans.

Reluctantly, Benny moved his head back. His baby blues, now dark with desire, staring at you as he licked his lips, tongue taking in your essence that had been resting there. After a brief moment of watching you, he rose to his feet, standing between your legs. Without delay, your hands moved to Benny's jeans. Undoing the button before pulling down the zipper. You pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips.

When he was freed from its confines, you wrapped a hand around his member. Slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft. The way Benny's breath caught in his throat, before a small strangled noise came from his parted lips, such noises pleased you. He leant in and captured your lips once more, sloppily and mindlessly at your touch and ministrations.

“Baby, I want you" Benny sighed against your lips.

You hummed in approval. “I want you too".

You guided him to your sex, Benny's hands coming to hold your hips. His tip brushed against your nub, drawing out a moan. He was teasing, but you'd allow it. You brought your hands up to his neck, one resting there while its partner tangled with the hair at the base of his neck.

Finally lining himself entrance, Benny began to enter you. The way he felt, stretching you, you sighed as you gripped his hair. That action cause Benny to buck his hips, finally sheathing himself completely in you. You both moaned in satisfaction of being one again.

Benny moved in, taking your lips into a deep kiss. He drew back his hips before snapping back into you, over and over. At first a gentle pace, but with your hold on his hair and nails at his neck digging in, Benny picked up speed. Before long you were head tilted back, moaning, as your husband slammed into you. His lips upon your neck, sucking and biting, while he too made beautiful sounds.

With the rise in pleasure that Benny was giving you, and feeling, it had to come to an end. The tension rising and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You tightened around him, only adding to Benny's please, and making him move more vigorously.

“Cum for me, baby" Benny said with a groan, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. No doubt there’d be bruises later. “Ya gotta cum for me".

You nodded your head, whimpering at his words.

Benny placed his forehead to your own, his eyes staring deeply into yours. The pressure just building inside you both. Finally he hit that spot, and you tipped over the edge. You cried out, clenching tightly around his member, while you let your release wash over you. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Benny finally found his release. Buried within you, his seed coated your insides. His hands moving to the edge of the table, while catching his breath.

You opened your eyes, which had closed at some point, to look at your husband. He looked gorgeous, breathing heavily, trying to calm down after your vigorous activity. When his baby blues found yours, the smile that graced his perfect lips, melted your heart. You smiled right back at him. You both sharing a tender moment.

Those lips met with yours once more, but this time a chaste kiss. Pulling back, Benny reluctantly removed himself from you, which made you whimper at the lose. But with a promise that he'd gladly make it up to you later, you giggled with joy.

You watched as Benny pulled his boxers and jeans back up, fastening them before turning to you. He helped you down from the table, legs a little shaky from how well he had taken care of you. With some work and help, you had your own underwear and slacks back on. You kissed Benny's cheek to say thank you.

“Remind me to thank Johnny" you said off handily.

“Why's that baby?” Benny asked, confused.

You smirked. “For givin’ you the idea to grovel" was your reply before laughing.

Benny shook his head, pulling you close to him. “Oh”.

“And Benny" you said after a moment of silence. He waited for you to go on. “Next time you leave me, and hurt me, I will castrate you". Then you chuckled.

Benny softly laughed. “But what about kid's, baby. I'm gonna need them”.

Wrapped in his arms, you pondered Benny's words. “That is true...I will just take one then. You can give me kid's with just one, after all".

“Yes ma’am” Benny said in humour.

You both roared into laughter. Though you told him, as you laughed, you were serious. And it would be smart not to test you. Benny just continued to laugh before scooping you up over his shoulder, and carrying you off to your shared bedroom. Not without a small smack to your backside at you sassing him, as he walked up the stairs.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader

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summer-princess · 10 months ago

Text

Far From Angry: Hardersson x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: You meet a stranger and her girlfriend at the bar. Things escalate quickly. Pairing: Hardersson x Reader Warnings: 🔞Smut. Mdni🔞 Disclaimer: Obviously fiction Words: 2778

Pt. 2

Ever since you entered the bar, the pretty blonde sitting a few stools away hadn’t taken her eyes off of you.

You weren’t normally one for going out, especially without your friends, but the sound of music and unseasonably warm night air had drawn you out of your apartment, walking downtown to your favorite bar, ready to enjoy the evening.

You were certainly enjoying the sight of the beautiful woman in the flowy white top, her sweet smile as she looked across the bar at you.

Her eyes didn’t leave you as she finished her drink, sliding her glass back across the bar. You blushed as she looked away, and you caught a hint of white teeth scraping across a pair of ruby lips.

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, hoping you were interpreting her glances correctly, you hopped up from your stool and walked the few feet between you, hoping you looked more confident than you actually felt. As you sat down on the stool beside her, the pretty blonde tucked her hair behind her ears, turning her head to smile at you again.

“Hi,” she said, and you caught the slightest hint of an accent, one you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m Pernille,” she said, turning her stool to face you. She leaned forward, toward you, giving you the same brilliant smile that had drawn you over in the first place.

You introduced yourself, pleasant shivers running up and down your spine as she made eye contact with you, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to continue.

“So, Pernille,” you said, matching her posture, hoping to convey just how interested you were in getting to know her and her pretty smile a whole lot better. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Before she could answer, another blonde appeared over Pernille’s shoulder. Her hair was darker than Pernille’s, and the hand she put on Pernille’s shoulder was attached to a muscled arm.

“What’s going on over here, love?”

Love?

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head as you processed the words.

Love.

She had a girlfriend.

Of course she had a girlfriend.

As the other woman, just as blonde and just as gorgeous, claimed Pernille’s lips with her own, you felt a humiliated blush rising to coat your cheeks.

You wished that someone would break one of the legs off of the barstool and beat you over the head with it. Or that a freak sinkhole would open beneath the floor, somehow burying only you in the dirt. Because this was beyond your worst nightmares.

“Fuck,” you whispered, not sure which one of them you were talking to as apologies began to spew from between your lips.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean… Fuck, I’ll just-”

You made to stand up, charting the path that would get you to the exit quickest, but before you could make your escape, Pernille reached out and grabbed your hand, clasping it in hers. You let out a tiny gasp, still on your stool, at the contact, your eyes flickering back and forth between your skin touching hers and the woman whose hand had moved from her shoulder to her waist, possessively gripping her flowy white top.

“Don’t go,” she said, voice somewhere between a command and a plea. Even though your heart was racing, your legs longing to carry you far away, it was enough to make you pause.

You looked back and forth between Pernille and her partner, beyond confused. There had been no mistaking the look in your eyes as you approached her, or the undertones when you asked to buy her a drink. But there was also no mistaking the fact that she had a girlfriend, a very pretty and very strong looking girlfriend who had, out of some miracle, not yet put you on the ground.

“B-But,” you stuttered, trying to make sense of the increasingly odd situation in which you found yourself.

“Y-You, your girlfriend- She’s already angry enough at me, I-”

You didn’t have time to finish your runaway train of thought before you were unceremoniously interrupted.

“Do I look angry?”

You didn’t think you could stand looking at Pernille’s girlfriend any longer without wanting to light yourself on fire, so you didn’t. Instead, you stared at your nearly-empty drink, trying to think of how to escape this humiliating and bizarre situation with some of your dignity still intact.

You didn’t see the look they gave each other, but you definitely felt it when a hand grasped your chin, forcing your head upward. A pair of blue eyes met yours, clouded by mirth and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your eyebrow crinkled in confusion at the absence of anything identifiable as anger, a confusion that only grew when she spoke again.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said. “Do I look angry?”

Answering wasn’t optional this time, you could tell. So, trembling a little, you shook your head.

“N-Not really.”

“Clever girl.”

Her voice, smooth and seductive and just a bit condescending, hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through your body at the tone, from the tips of your fingers to between your legs. You quickly lowered your eyes again, hoping that she wouldn’t notice.

The self-satisfied smirk on her face made it clear that your hopes were in vain.

“Magda, baby,” said Pernille, standing and taking her place at her partner’s side, tucking herself under the taller woman’s free arm. “I think she likes it when you talk to her like that.”

Your mouth was slightly open, gaping in shock as you pressed your thighs together, unable to deny the arousal beginning to pool in your core. No matter how embarrassing Pernille’s words might have been, they were undeniable- the condescending tone of Magda’s voice made your mouth water, the need for the two of them to do what they wanted with you taking over your mind.

“Oh, she’s so cute,” said Pernille, relishing the way you shuddered as she placed her hand on your thigh, fingers sliding upward and creeping closer to the hem of your panties under your new skirt. Magda nodded in agreement.

“Her face is all red,” she said, the two of them exchanging comments as if you couldn’t hear them speaking. You had an idea of where this was going, one that you desperately hoped was correct, and the thought of it made you press your thighs together with need.

“I wonder what she’d look like all spread out on our bed.”

You gasped quietly, initial arousal only amplifying as they confirmed the thought that had been solidifying in your mind. With a squeeze of Pernille’s hand, Magda took a step forward towards you, her gaze piercing through you and making you whimper again.

“Do you want this?”

Magda’s breath was hot against your neck as she whispered the question into your ear, and you were sure that she could hear your pulse pounding.

You nodded so quickly that you could have given yourself whiplash, still gaping in disbelief even as she smirked, helping you to your feet and throwing a wad of cash behind her, payment for the drink you had tried to buy her girlfriend.

This was actually happening.

Their apartment was only a few blocks away from the bar, and when they guided you through the door, you had barely kicked off your shoes when you found yourself pressed against the wall by a pair of strong arms.

You hadn’t noticed Magda’s muscles back in the bar when you were refusing to look at her, but now that they were being used to pin you against the wall, they were difficult to ignore. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan, one which she immediately swallowed with her mouth. Magda’s tongue pressed insistently against your lips, and you didn’t waste any time before granting her access, letting her dominate the kiss.

You weren’t normally this submissive- typically, you would have made at least a token effort to take back some control, but something about these women made that seem like a concept far too difficult and complex to grasp. So you let Magda devour your lips, her hands on your waist as you started to move again.

Guiding you backward into their bedroom, Magda’s hands migrated downward to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. You could vaguely sense Pernille nearby, a few steps ahead of you, but you couldn’t see the way she’d already shed her top, tossing it carelessly aside as she flicked on the light switch in their bedroom.

When Magda stopped moving, hands on your ass stilling you as well, you felt the other woman come up beside you, but still shivered when she whispered in your ear.

“You gonna do what we tell you, baby? You gonna be a good girl for us?”

The coaxing voice in your ear made you tilt your neck in the opposite direction, exposing the soft skin to Pernille as Magda broke your kiss, releasing you from her hold.

“Uh huh,” you said, and were rewarded by a new pair of warm lips pressed against your own. Pernille’s kiss was dirty and tender at the same time, her pink tongue gentler than Magda’s had been but with a similar level of control and the identical result of making you crave more of her touch.

“Let us give you what you need, honey,” said Pernille, voice saccharine as she pulled away from your lips. “Let us fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

Your nod was desperate, her words only adding to the copious arousal between your thighs.

“Good. Then strip for us, pretty girl,” she whispered in your ear before releasing her hold on your body, raising an eyebrow and fixing you with a coaxing smirk.

Blinking a few times to regain even a modicum of composure, you blushed as you pulled your shirt over your head, both of the women’s eyes locked on you predatorily as you set the garment atop their wardrobe, revealing your lacy bra.

“So pretty,” said Magda, as you reached for the hem of your skirt. You had to wiggle your hips to slide out of the slightly-too-small fabric, a sight which made both pairs of eyes locked on you darken, the couple exchanging a look full of hunger. When the garment finally dropped to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and matching panties, you looked back over at them and found the pair exchanging a heated kiss of their own. Sensing your gaze, Magda pulled away from Pernille’s lips to raise an eyebrow at you.

“All of it.”

Your flush deepened as you undid the clasp of your bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it join your skirt and top in the haphazard pile on the floor. With your breasts exposed to their hungry gaze and nipples beginning to harden, unprompted, into peaks, you reached for the waistband of your panties and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them when they pooled around your ankles.

You had somehow missed Pernille approaching you, the lighter blonde woman reaching out a hand and slipping it between your legs. You gasped at the sudden contact, unable to stop your hips from jutting forward, seeking friction against your throbbing cunt.

It only lasted for a moment before she turned her head back towards Magda, giving her a smirk and a nod.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You nodded quickly, scurrying across the room and seating yourself on the edge of their sizeable mattress. One look from Magda told you that that wasn’t what she had meant and so, still blushing, you laid yourself carefully back against one of their pillows, hyper-aware of their eyes on you, gazes locked on the curve of your breasts and the copious arousal gathered between your pretty thighs.

You could tell what the order of things would be when Pernille walked toward the edge of the bed, lingering beside you without sitting down, and Magda climbed up immediately, her large hands pulling you just slightly further forwards to where she wanted you.

“Open your fucking legs.”

Magda’s words weren’t a request, but the order was one that you were all too happy to obey. Letting your thighs fall apart, you watched, unbreathing, as the other woman pulled a hair elastic from her wrist and tied her blonde waves up into a careless bun.

Feeling the bed dip beside you, you heard Pernille’s voice against your neck as she left a trail of kisses across the sensitive skin.

“Magda’s going to taste you now.”

Barely had the words left her mouth then Magda’s tongue connected with your core, the woman wasting no time before licking a wet stripe over your soaking hole. You gasped, fingernails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands tightly, and the sound must have pleased the other woman, because her soft chuckle vibrated against your core.

She took a minute to explore, warm appendage tracing a path up and down your cunt, unmoved by your breathy pleas for her to go faster, or to put her mouth on the one place you needed it most.

“Patience, honey,” crooned Pernille, noticing your gyrating hips. “Stay still. Let her enjoy you.”

You sobbed in pleasure as Magda’s tongue swiped through your pussy again and again, Pernille’s soft hands tugging at your nipples. The woman between your thighs was talented, the wet muscle of her mouth lapping and kissing all the right spots, finally running her tongue across your swollen clit, even letting a hint of teeth scrape across your thigh once in a while.

You couldn’t have closed your legs if you wanted to, a combination of Magda’s shoulders and her hands combining to hold them open.

“Stay still,” she reminded you with a gentle smack to one of your thighs.

Still, you couldn’t help but buck against her tongue, trying to get her mouth back on your clit.

“I told you to stay still,” said Magda with a growl, strong hands pushing your hips back down to the mattress.

A shudder ran up and down your body at her harsh tone. Pernille, you noticed, now had one hand on each of your tits, the strength in her arms a warning that, if you moved again, she wouldn’t hesitate to use that muscle to keep you pinned down with no choice except to take what her partner gave.

Your body shook with the effort of keeping still, of not allowing your hips to rock against Magda’s tongue, but you were rewarded by attention lavished on your bud, able to feel the other woman’s smile against your cunt.

You shuddered, feeling your muscles tighten as your peak began to grow closer. Apparently Magda could sense it as well, because she pulled her mouth away from you and reached for her girlfriend.

Pernille obeyed the summons, leaving you writhing on the bed, whining pathetically at the loss of contact as Magda pulled her in for a deep kiss. Your eyes went to the two women, unable to stop a groan as you watched them, Magda’s hands wrapped around Pernille’s waist as their tongues battled. As hot as the sight was, it only made you wetter as you realized that they were sharing the taste of you between them.

Even through your haze, you knew that, no matter how desperate your cunt was for their attention, you couldn’t let your fingers drift down between your legs. They had made it clear since you met that they held the reins of control, that you were their plaything for the night.

“Pernille,” said Magda, rocking her hips subtly as Pernille pressed a line of wet kisses along her neck.

“Look at her.”

Pernille’s eyes drifted back toward you, wriggling desperately on the bed, twisting your hands in their covers as you fought not to touch yourself.

“God,” said Pernille. “She’s desperate, isn’t she?”

You made no move to deny her claim, rather nodding in confirmation. Any shock or disbelief you had felt at the situation you were in had certainly vanished, replaced with pure, undiluted need.

“Please,” you whimpered, soaking pussy still perfectly visible between your spread legs. “Please, I need…”

You trailed off, the blush that was quickly becoming a familiar companion returning once again to your cheeks. Luckily for you, Pernille was able to translate the low moan which replaced the words you couldn’t find.

“I think she needs your cock, Magda.”

#woso #women's football #hardersson #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #pernille harder x reader #magdalena eriksson x pernille harder x reader #woso x reader #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso imagine #fc bayern frauen #fc bayern frauen x reader #bayern munich women #bayern women x reader

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rootspiral · 4 days ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])

(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)

agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be

not that she cares about you or anything.

billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.

agatha never lies to billy

and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time

I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.

Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.

The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even truer for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.

and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.

billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.

aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?

oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck

rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.

and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity

and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.

a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit

and she's gone. her puzzled little face!

from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.

look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy

and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.

alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again

agatha picks up rio's flower

rio looks at her

pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back

you could cut the damn tension with a knife

jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr

look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes

agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.

what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???

agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!

behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'

oh rio's DETERMINED

'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS

agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body

just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.

lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.

and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7

LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)

go to episode 4 part 7

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agathario #agatha harkness #rio vidal #billy maximoff #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #alice wu gulliver #character study

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cevansbrat0007 · 11 months ago

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Cross-Country Christmas

Summary: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle...

Warnings: Light Angst, Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec), Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story! Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

2:00pm, Christmas Eve – Bell’s Creek, Texas

You couldn’t believe this was happening. After spending the last several days out of town with his family, Ari had been due to fly back to Bell’s Creek tonight so that the two of you could spend the holiday together.

Your first Christmas as a couple.

But that was before the surprise arrival of the severe winter storm that was currently sweeping through the Midwest, resulting in numerous canceled flights that had left thousands stranded across the country – including your handsome Bounty Hunter.

“Are they at least trying to get you on another flight, or are you just shit out of luck?” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it on the counter so that you can go back to rolling out more dough for your next pie.

“Well, the airline is being a little evasive.” Ari admits, blowing out a heavy breath. You can practically hear him raking an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. “But with this storm comin’ in, I’m gettin’ the sense that I’m most likely fucked until tomorrow. Maybe a little longer.”

“This is exactly why you should’ve just stayed at your sister’s place.” You sniffle, blinking away tears as you wield your rolling pin with a touch more force than necessary.

“Bird.” You can tell he’s doing his best to keep hold of his patience.

“Oh, don’t “Bird” me.”

“Bird.” This time your name is spoken with a slightly more authoritative note. It’s one that your body recognizes almost immediately. “Please don’t start with me, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

Too bad you weren’t neccessarily in the mood to obey today.

“I’m just saying.” You continue, feeling more pissed at mother nature than anything else. “If you would’ve stayed with Evelyn and the kids at least you would’ve been able to be with your family on Christmas.” You toss the pin in the sink, wincing at the loud clatter it makes. “Now you’ll probably be stuck all alone, sleeping with a bunch of grumpy strangers at the flippin’ airport!”

“That’s enough of the sass, baby.” Ari grunts.

“It’s not sass if it’s the truth, Ari.” You hum, peering over at the apples you’ve got soaking in a bowl filled with 7-Up.

“Sweetheart.” The soft rebuke rolls easily off his tongue. “I made a promise to spend Christmas Day with you – all wrapped up in you – and it’s one I intend to keep. Somehow.” He tacks on the last bit, which unknowingly brings a smile to your lips.

“At this rate, you’re gonna be spending at least part of the holiday sleeping at your gate.”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath.

“Want me to call the airline, sugar?” You ask as you go to rest your elbows on the counter so you can attempt to stretch the muscles in your lower back. “See if I can fight with ‘em enough so they at least put you up in a nice hotel so that you can get a good night’s rest?”

“Nah, baby. They got me on standby and all that. I’m trying to get away from this shithole as soon as possible.” While you appreciated his determination, not even your big, bad Bounty Hunter could beat a snowstorm.

“Hey! Omaha is not a shithole.” You chuckle, feeling a little defensive on behalf of a city you’d never visited. “I looked ‘em up. They’ve got some amazing museums.” You fish an apple slice out of the bowl and pop it into your mouth, chewing slowly. “I could have a good time in a place like that.”

“Then get your pretty ass down here already and we’ll take every goddamned tour they’ve got.”

“Would if I could, Beast.” You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “I’d give anything to have you back in Bell’s Creek with me. I miss you taking up all the space in my tiny kitchen while you help yourself to my treats.”

“I know. I promise I’ll get there. Just do me a favor and don’t start looking for my replacement just yet, okay?”

Your stomach dips when you realize he’s about to say goodbye. Which is fine because you also still had a ton of baking to do. And while you still weren’t quite sure if you were going to follow through with your original Christmas Day dinner plans, the last thing you wanted was for Ari to hear you crying at the unfairness of it all over the phone.

It would only make him feel worse than he already did.

“I’m not sure if anyone could ever replace you, not that I would ever try.” You tell him honestly. “I love you too much.”

“Damn right you do.” Comes your man’s rich, self-assured reply. “No better feeling in the world than being loved by my Duchess.” The warmth in his tone has butterflies stirring in your belly.

They were the good kind of butterflies – the ones only Ari could cause.

“Go get some food and then call me in a bit.” You glance at the clock to check the time. At 2:06pm, there was no way that all hope was lost just yet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll be an update.”

“Sure thing, baby. But the same goes for you. And don’t just snack – eat something real for me.” His bossy tone has your pulse kicking up.

“You didn’t say please.” Your hand goes to cover your mouth as you tamp down a playful giggle.

“Mmm.” Ari groans as he moves to stretch out the kinks in his back. At least that was what you imagined he was doing. “Could you please do me a kindness and keep feeding those curves? I reckon I’m gonna need a little taste of something sweet when I walk through that front door. You with me?”

“I–I’m with you.” You stammer slightly, your mouth suddenly dry. Another effect that man seemed to have on you. “And I promise I’ll eat. Now hang up with me and go make some friends or something.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. But we’ve been over this, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only friend I need.” He quips rather smugly, his voice deepening ever so slightly.

“Ari…” This had the makings of one of the older, more ridiculous arguments you’d had written all over it.

“Because the way I see it, we’re best friends.” He continues almost as if you hadn’t spoken. “What with all of the sleepovers, and the hair braiding, and don’t get me started on how many times you’ve kept me up late so you could make sure I’ve had my fill of all that sweetness you’ve got between –”

“Okay, okay, okay!” You cut him off with a hiss, not missing the way he laughs. “Fine, we can be best friends as long as you work on getting your cute butt home to me before Christmas, alright?”

“Yes, Duchess.” He finally replies after taking some time to collect himself. “You have my word I’ll keep working on that too. Just hold tight and I’ll be in touch with an update as soon as I have one.”

“Thank you, Beast. I’ll, uh, talk to you soon.”

“You can count on it.” Is all he says before the line goes dead, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

If Ari couldn’t make it back for Christmas, you would be devastated. Here you were, finally feeling safe in a secure and loving relationship, and now there was a strong possibility that you both might be forced to celebrate the holiday hundreds of miles apart from each other.

“God, I can feel a headache coming on.” You mumble as your fingers go to massage your temples.

8:30am, Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well.

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it came across a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you should dump out the pot and brew a fresh one.

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.”

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess.

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned.

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. Sometimes pushing his buttons a little managed to bring joy to your life.

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm.

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him.

“It was a joke.” You amend when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you could even be bothered enough to cook today.

Granted, the spiral cut ham you’d purchased from the butcher wouldn’t take very long in the oven. All you had to do now was throw together the glaze and it would be ready to do its thing. Plus, you’d already baked the pies yesterday, which meant that all that was left for the day was the cake.

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a frustrated breath at the same time as you roll your eyes. Couldn’t he understand that you needed to make yourself laugh now and then in order to keep from crying? What was so wrong about that?

“I just said I was kidding. But if you wanna plead your case to someone, plead it to your new friend, Clint. See what he says.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them.

Now you could feel your sadness slowly giving way to anger. Not at Ari or his newfound airport buddy, but at the situation as a whole. Which meant it was time to get off the phone before you said something you would later regret.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean, Duchess?”

“It’s – nothing.” You clamp your mouth shut and close the fridge, all the while trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Because if I had my way, I’d be there with you right now so we could have this stupid argument in person. You gotta know that.”

“I know.”

“Do you, sweetness?”

“Yes, I do.” You respond a touch more firmly, scrubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I just hate this. I hate that it’s Christmas, and that you’re stuck all alone in Omaha and I’m here. But I don’t wanna fight with you, Beast. Not really. I just miss you.”

“So then let’s not fight.” His soft plea makes you sniffle. “I’m gonna go figure out how all this hotel bullshit works and get myself settled in. In the meantime, I want you to go take yourself a nice hot shower and just relax. I’ll call you later, okay?”

For a moment, you allow the gentle warmth of his voice to wash over you. If you closed your eyes it was almost like you could pretend he was with you now. As if he was only seconds away from wrapping his brawny arms your waist and hauling you close.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you imagine him burying his face in the crook of your neck, planting tiny kisses along your sensitive flesh until he had you giggling and squirming in his grasp.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname jolts you from your reverie, reminding you that it was time to say goodbye. At least for a little while. Good Lord, when had you become so needy for this man? It must’ve happened when you weren’t paying attention.

“Goodbye, Ari.” You whisper before using your thumb to end the call.

Setting your phone on the counte do a quick spin, silently taking stock of everything you still had to do. If you started cooking relatively soon, you’d be able to occupy yourself until mid-afternoon. And then you would take a shower, and while you were busy doing that you would figure out your next move.

You’re sitting in a chair that isn’t yours with your arms propped up on a desk that doesn’t belong to you while your chin rests on your palm. Instead of spending the afternoon moping, you’d decided to bring a little holiday cheer to your local boys in blue in the form of a home cooked Christmas dinner.

“Glad you like everything.” You say for what feels like the umpteenth time as you watch Bell’s Creek’s newest Deputy, Milton Foster, happily devour his second helping of macaroni and cheese.

A few days ago, you would never have imagined that this would be how you would spend your Christmas Day. But, as they say, beggars couldn’t be choosers. So, it was either enjoy a front row seat to watch Milton wolf down his food at an almost alarming speed, or you could go home and maybe watch a Christmas special on TV.

Alone. By yourself. Yeah, no thanks.

“Yep.” Milton grunts once he finally comes up for air. He manages a sip of his drink before diving back in for a slice of glazed ham, stabbing it with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. “Looks like Levinson’s loss is my gain. Sorry buddy.”

The words are spoken through a mouthful of food, but you understand them just fine. But just because Milton was arguably your favorite member of the town’s police force didn’t mean he was above pricking your temper every now and again.

And today you were feeling mighty prickly.

“Another crack like that and no pie for you.” That stops him cold, his sharp gray eyes immediately zeroing-in on the whole cherry pie you’d decided to bring along as dessert.

“My apologies.” He beats a hasty retreat, using his fist to muffle a burp. “You know I was only kiddin’. I’m just happy I don’t have to subject myself to another year of Ma’s Christmas Tuna Casserole.” He shudders playfully. “I don’t think I coulda’ handled that one.”

“Yikes.” You mutter before pushing away from the desk to stretch your legs.

“Yeah, it’s a hard-knock life.” He offers you a smile before wiping at his face with a napkin. “You sure you’re not hungry? I know the man’s not here, but I doubt he’d like the idea of me sittin’ here stuffin’ my face while you nurse a Diet Coke.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “He knows how I am. After tasting and smelling everything for hours on end, I’m not typically all that hungry.”

Which was one of the reasons your Beast liked to take it upon himself to help you work up an appetite – usually by stripping down and fucking you senseless. But Deputy Milton didn’t need to know all of that.

“Hm. More for me I guess.” He hums, snagging another freshly buttered dinner roll.

“Yep.” The word is spoken like an airy sigh. “More for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go find the ladies room.” You rise to your feet and polish off your beverage before tossing it in the trash. “Be back in a jiff.”

Forty Minutes Later…

The drive from the station back to your place feels surprisingly short. Loneliness weighs on you like a heavy blanket as you pull into the driveway and kill the engine. Groaning, you let your head collide against the steering wheel with a dull thunk.

As much as you didn’t want to go inside, you knew you couldn’t linger out here in your car forever. It was much too cold for an extended outdoor moping session. You’d probably catch frostbite halfway through.

You briefly debate giving Ari a call. Other than exchanging a few text messages here and there, you hadn’t heard from him since this morning. The thought of him being upset with you on Christmas just didn’t sit right.

Maybe you’d call him later, after you’d put the food away and gotten ready for bed. Perhaps you’d even convince him to FaceTime with you so that you could enjoy teasing him while nibbling on a slice of the red velvet cake you’d baked especially for him.

Yes, that was the new plan. But first, you had to get out of the car. Grabbing your purse, you duck out the driver’s side door and make a mad dash up your walkway. It’s so cold that your teeth are already chattering by the time you finally fish your keys out of your bag to let yourself in.

First, you had work to do. And then you would check-in with your man just to make sure that all was right with your world.

8:30pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

Glass of wine in hand, you plop down on your living room couch with a defeated huff. You’d just tried Ari a few minutes ago while standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but your new lacy, red chemise and matching thong you’d purchased just for tonight.

Because you’d known how much Ari would like it.

Except your Bounty Hunter hadn’t answered. Instead, it had gone straight to voicemail both times. Even if he was still pissed at you, you were confident that he would’ve answered. The only reason he would’ve ignored you was if–

Just then your phone dings, alerting you of a new text message. Reaching into the pocket of your robe, you’re elated when you see Ari’s name flash across the screen. But your hopes are soon dashed the moment you read the words written on the screen.

“Hey. Out with Clint. We’ll talk in a bit.”

For a second you’re almost too stunned to speak. Were you really playing second fiddle to a man he’d just met? And all because you’d been a little snippy with him this morning? No. That couldn’t be right.

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you hastily type out the words: “I miss you.” And it only gets worse when he responds with a simple thumbs up emoji. That fucking bastard!

“Oh fuck you, Ari Levinson. And you too, Clint!” You snarl, snagging your wine and angrily gulping it down. “I’m sure you both will be very happy in Omaha. Where you can fucking stay. Forever!”

Now thoroughly pissed, you stomp your way back into the kitchen to fetch the bottle you’d left behind before returning determined to find something on television. So you could ignore the fact that your heart was breaking.

On fucking Christmas Day.

After a few minutes, you settle on the live action version of A Muppet Christmas Carol. And then you grab a blanket and snuggle up. You’d deal with all of this later. Preferably after your second glass of wine.

Hell, you might even need a third to convince yourself that murder was not the acceptable way to handle these kinds of problems in a relationship. Perhaps you’d simply pour a little sugar in the tank of his truck and see how that made you feel.

Sure, you were probably being petty. But seeing as you’d been on an emotional roller coaster for the better part of two days, you were more than ready to hop the hell off this ride. Ari could stay put for all you cared.

Anger aside, there was no denying the fact that you were absolutely crushed. With that in mind, you decide that you’re not answering whenever Ari finally found the time and inclination to call you back. If he was busy, then you would be too.

You finish off your vino before snuggling even deeper under your blanket. It was officially time for you to go to bed. And when you woke up tomorrow, hopefully all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream.

And if it wasn’t, then you might find yourself asking the Lord for forgiveness after you let the air out of one of your man’s precious tires.

10:45pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Wake up, little Bird.”

A faint brush of lips along your cheek has your eyes slowly fluttering open as your body fights through the last vestiges of sleep. You weren’t sure what had woken you up. Hell, you didn’t even know what time it was.

You take a moment to stretch before sitting up to reach for your phone. Squinting, you scroll through the handful of last minute messages you’d received from a couple of friends during your nap. But unfortunately there’s still nothing from the one person you’d been hoping to hear from the most.

Ari.

Your eyes stray to the TV and you’re confused when you see the black screen staring back at you. Now that was strange. Maybe you drank a little more wine than you thought.

You curiously examine the still half-full bottle sitting on your coffee table with so much focus that you almost miss the notes of Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song filtering into your living room.

It was your favorite song, but the last time you checked, it had not been set to autoplay. Which meant someone was in your house.

“Hello?” You call as you rise to your feet, stepping over your blanket as it falls to the floor. Your hands come up to rub your arms in an effort to ward off the slight chill in the air.

The warm scent of spiced cinnamon apples fills your nostrils and delights your senses as you round the corner and scurry into the kitchen. Your legs don’t stop moving until you’re standing mere feet away from the one man who seemed to rent space in your mind from sunup to sundown.

Ari Levinson.

He’s standing there in your kitchen wearing a pair of dark blue denim jeans and a slate gray thermal, eagerly helping himself to an impressive slice of red velvet cake. He smiles at you through a mouthful of dessert, and it’s impossible to miss the way his sparkling blue eyes darken once he gets a good look at the red silk robe that matched your holiday lingerie.

“I don’t believe it. Y–you’re home.” You breathe as one of your hands flies to your chest, seeking to calm your increasingly erratic heartbeat. “But–but how?” Clearly, forming coherent sentences wasn’t your strong suit right now.

“I made my woman a promise.” Ari shrugs, setting his now empty plate aside. “And like I told you, I aimed to see it through. That cake is fucking fantastic by the way.”

“You managed to catch a flight?” You’re so convinced that he might disappear again that you’re almost afraid to drink.

“Nah. Clint and I decided to rent a truck and brave the elements in favor of a little cross-country road trip.” He leans back against the counter, as if bracing himself for your response. And you sure as shit aren’t the type to disappoint.

“Through a flippin’ blizzard?!” You squeal, gripping your face in your hands. “Jesus H. Christ, Beast! Are you insane?!”

“Clearly.” His grin quickly fades into a grimace when you let out another scream as you flail your arms wide.

“I can’t believe you did this!” You tell him as you feel hot tears wet your cheeks. “I can’t believe you–you…you’re here on Christmas.” The words come tumbling out as the dam breaks.

“Bird…”

Ari reaches for you then, although you’re quick to bat his hands away in favor of throwing your arms around his neck and hauling him close. At a loss for what else to do, one of his heavy palms comes to rest on your lower back, rubbing in small, soothing circles while you busy yourself with sobbing into his broad chest.

“Breathe, baby. There we go.” He coos softly, waiting patiently for you to pull away long enough for him to get a good look at your tear stained face.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You hiccup, using his thermal to dry your eyes. “But I’m also really mad at you for putting yourself in danger like that. You and Clint.” You quickly amend, offering him a watery smile. “You could’ve died, and then I would’ve had to kill you.”

You weren’t joking. You’d been experiencing a variety of violent thoughts lately.

“Is that right?” Ari wraps your arms around his neck again as you two begin to sway to the beat of the music playing in the background. “Well, I’ll make sure to pass that on.”

“Please do.” You murmur as you rest your ear on his chest, content to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. “Was it a long drive?” You allow your eyes to fall closed as you wait for him to respond. Regardless of his answer, you’re determined to keep your calm.

“Eh, about ten hours or so.” He hums, dipping your bodies in time with the song. “Give or take. But the weather got much better around the middle of Kansas. We took our time. We were careful. In fact, Clint’s still out there.”

“Oh God, why?”

“He’s headed to Louisiana. Something about needing to track down an old friend named Nat.” He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before pushing you away so that he can twirl you around. “But enough about him. I missed you, Bird.” He briefly pauses your dance before bringing your knuckles to his mouth, making you melt.

“Yeah?” You purr, rising on your toes to nip at his jaw. “I missed you too. That’s why I’m wearing one of your Christmas presents. I was gonna show it to you on FaceTime, but you didn’t answer.”

Apparently because he’d been too busy driving across the country at the time. Who would’ve thought?

“This all for me?” His hands go to the belt of your robe, deftly undoing the knot. Once free, you give a little shimmy, content to let the robe pool on the floor at your bare feet. “Oh, yes the fuck it is.” The silky timbre of his voice has you soaking your panties.

As if they weren’t already ruined.

“Merry Christmas.” Planting your hands on either side of his bearded jaw, you draw him down until your lips meet his. Groaning, your Bounty Hunter wastes almost no time deepening the kiss, his expert tongue sweeping past your defenses to duel with your own.

God, he tasted so good. Like spearmint and coffee on a cold winter’s night. You honestly had no idea just how much you'd truly needed this man.

“Next time your sexy ass is comin’ with me.” Ari snarls, breaking the kiss to lightly tug at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Was gonna lose my mind if I had to go another day without this.”

“Okay, Beast.” You whimper when he sharply smacks your ass. “Whatever you say.” Right now, this man had no idea just how close you were to giving him whatever he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “Oooh!” You jolt when he delivers another blow. “Yes, baby. More!”

You’re rewarded with yet another delicious spank, which goes straight to your already aching clit. It was taking everything in you not to reach between your thighs and touch your dripping pussy.

But you refuse to give in, knowing that your man would want that privilege all for himself.

“Mine.” He rasps, his tone taking on an almost feral quality as his calloused palms go to cup your heavy breasts through the thin fabric of your teddy. “Missed these perfect fuckin’ tits.” That’s your only warning before he grips the front of your garment and tearing it in two like it was nothing.

“Ari!” You gasp, arching your back when your man leans down to capture a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth. He sucks hard, using his tongue to tease the sensitive flesh. “Ungh!” You squirm in his grasp as long fingers dig into your hips to hold you in place for his sensual assault.

Eventually, he releases you with a slight pop, just as his hands fall away from your hips. “Hope you’re ready, baby. Cuz’ I ain’t lettin’ you outta bed until New Year’s.” His roguish grin has a fresh tendril of heat unfurling in your belly. “Maybe later.”

“You’re all talk.” You giggle, slowly backing away as Ari continues to stalk towards you, using his muscular body to his advantage.

“Nah.” He shrugs, his grin growing impossibly wider when your ass connects with your dining room table. “I can’t wait to lose myself between those thick thighs. Want you to fuckin’ suffocate me, baby.”

Your Bounty Hunter drops to his knees in front you before burying his nose in your panty covered pussy and inhaling deeply. You feel your legs begin to quiver when he does it again, a soft cry escapes your lips when you feel his sharp teeth graze over the outline of your swollen clit.

“Need you to fuckin’ drown me while eat this pretty cunt.” Ari growls, delicately nipping at your inner thigh. “Swear I fuckin' see God every time I get you to sit on my face. That's how divine you taste.”

“Oh!” You whine as he nuzzles his nose against the swollen bundle of nerves, making your core spasm.

“But first, I’m gonna fuck you.” He places one last open-mouthed kiss on your mound before standing up and spinning you around in one blended motion. You cry out when your hands slap against the cool wooden surface. “Teach you a lesson for all the sass you fed me earlier today.”

On a growl, Ari makes quick work of his jeans, shoving them down his hair covered thighs along with his boxers almost faster than you can blink.

“I’m so sorry, Beast…” You moan, offering up your stinging rump for another smack. Thankfully, Ari is more than happy to oblige. “Please…please...” Next thing you know, your thong has joined the rest of your ruined lingerie, putting your weeping cunt on display.

You let out a harsh gasp when you feel his hard, fat cock enter you in one swift thrust. Not wanting to wake the entire neighborhood with your screams, you find yourself biting down on your fist to keep yourself quiet.

Ari takes a moment to readjust his position, spreading his legs so that he can go deeper, get a better angle. He loves the way you sob for him, the needy little sounds you make while he fucks the shit out of your greedy little pussy.

His hips snap in time with the music as your sweat-slick flesh connects again and again – driving you both closer to the brink. Your passion-filled cries fill the room as Ari somehow finds a way to go even deeper, giving it to you so good you know you’re gonna feel him inside you for days.

Just the way you liked it.

“Best Christmas ever, Duchess.” Your man grips the front of your throat, holding you in place while he uses you the way he needs to. God, he made you feel so good. Even when he had you ready to pull your hair out, he still had this way about him that made almost everything feel infinitely better.

“Best-oh God! More!” You cry out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he spanks your pussy with a measured flick of his wrist. This man wanted you to see stars, and he was more than up to the challenge. “Oh Jesus - f–fuck yeah!”

“There we go, sweetheart.” Ari purrs as his thrusts become a little more erratic. “Now how ‘bout we see how many times I can fill you up before the clock strikes midnight?”

“I–ooh!” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a small shriek when he administers another wet smack.

“Huh.” He chuckles, leaving a trail of kisses along the curve of your throat. “Guess I’ll just have to take that as a yes.”

END

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deesseshesca · 6 days ago

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PAC: What should I focus on right now for long-lasting good vibes ?

When I leave Juice WRLD, I'm back to pink hair !

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PILE 1

Sweetheart, here’s what your heart needs to hear:

This moment is about embracing the magic of you. You’re a radiant Queen, with warmth in your soul and power in your every move. Taking this time for yourself isn’t stepping away from love—it’s leaning deeper into the one you have with your own spirit.

You’ve found something beautiful, something healthy and whole, but it’s okay to let it breathe. You’re not losing anything; you’re creating space to grow into the love that feels so new. Focus on nurturing your passions, tending to your dreams, and grounding yourself in your own brilliance.

The love will wait—it’s strong enough to do that. And in the meantime, remember: you are more than worthy of all the goodness coming your way.

What should I focus on right now for long-lasting growth?

Y’all took a fat L in your finance. It could be that maybe you were born in a poor family or maybe you maxed out your credit card at a super young age. Another scenario is comin through, some of y’all were financial abuse by your own parents. You were here paying one of our family members' medical bills while paying for your school. The situation of your family was a wake up call for you because you never knew they were in so much debt (And they fucking expected you to saved them… let me move on … I said I was going to be more gentle). Any ways most people would have scramble under so much pressure but you were determined to rise the fuck up. You motherfucking did ! CONGRATS !!!!!! Since you know how it feels to live in such a deprived state you put everything in your power not to fall back into it. You have built quite the financial literacy. Unlike your family you are sitting hoping for a miracle, you prefer having control over your own life. You let go off a good suitor that was going to give you stability. The ring, the house and the kids but you want more. You spent the last year living a basic life to save you and your family. Now you want to experiment with your looks, activities and learn more about your own desire. Don’t hate yourself because you choose’’ you’’ and sometimes choosing is not about a reason but a feeling. Believe me if they said they are going to wait… they are probably waiting. Don’t feel guilty because they are rooting for you and your happiness.

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PILE 2

Bestie, let me tell you something magical:

Focus on living in the beauty of your truth, unapologetically. Let your heart be guided by clarity, not illusions. You've grown, you've blossomed, and not everyone deserves to witness the garden you've nurtured. Some will see your glow and mistake it for something they can dim, but you know better.

Surround yourself with those who celebrate your growth, not those who sulk in the shadow of it. It’s okay to leave behind the ones who can’t appreciate the masterpiece you’ve become. Their energy was never meant to shape your future—it was meant to teach you what to protect.

Right now, bestie, the vibes are all about you. Shine boldly, love fiercely, and walk away from anything that makes your soul feel heavy. You’re stepping into your best self, and it’s time to embrace the joy of that without looking back.

What should I focus on right now for long-lasting growth?

Y’all just moved to your new house. You may be in decorating mode, making sure to buy all the essentials, making sure to organize the bills and if you need to renovate mama/papi is turning to DIY Bob the Builder. First of all, motherfucking CONGRATS! Moving in this economy is like one of the biggest achievements. You are advised to go hangout in your community doing something that resonates with you. Whether going to the movies, reading club, knitting classes or walking around in the mall or the park near your house. Because you may be feeling lonely and you hate going out on your own because it is making a matter worse but somebody is going to strike up a conversation with you. Y’all going to enter a new friend group that's going to feel like family. Head up Pile 2 the same way they are open about their emotions let them in because I swear all they want to do is know you, see you and love you. Also this feeling of wanting community may be new because you got so accustomed to being the ‘’weird kid’’ that nobody really wants to deal with but thank God you did not change because your soul family is one greeting away.

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PILE 3

Darling, let me wrap you in some truth:

This moment is yours to reclaim. You’re standing tall, blooming in your own power like the Empress you are—creative, abundant, and unstoppable. Staying firm in your decision to hold that no-contact boundary isn’t just strength; it’s self-love in its purest form.

You’re no longer chasing love that left you questioning your worth. You’ve grown beyond that, and now you’re building a life where your heart beats freely, unburdened by the echoes of what was. Focus on your business, your passions, your empire. Every step you take is a step toward the future you deserve.

Let them wonder about your glow from afar. You’re not here to dim your light for anyone who couldn’t see it before. Keep shining, bestie. Your journey is just beginning, and it’s a masterpiece in the making.

What should I focus on right now for long-lasting growth?

First congrats on your pregnancy. Y’all always wanted a kid and you actually thought that the father had his shit together but when it comes to standing for your baby or your ex. Is always going to your bundle of joy. On the other hand I feel like y’all are never going to do it again. Like pregnancy is not a fun experience. Y’all are not living a traumatic experience but just feeling uncomfortable all the time … ain’t it baby. Also you are so ready to meet your little one.

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#tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot cards #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #divine timing #divine guidance #intuitive messages #intuitive guidance #intuition #free readings #free tarot readings #free tarot

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astroboots · 1 year ago

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window.

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man...

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are.

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you.

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up.

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too.

You take the cupcakes.

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction.

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door.

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks.

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set.

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop.

You didn’t put that there.

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you.

“And the cupcakes," you add.

There's no reply.

~ To be continued.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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thecowinblack · 6 months ago

Text

Burning Hearts pt.3

Moodboard Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Word count: 1345

Summary: A dramatic High Lord/Lady meeting and a confrontational conversation between you and the Night Court.

⚠️Warnings: Drama lol, some against, a little fluff, makeouting, swearing, mentions to cheating, mentions about sex.

An: Well this part is filled with drama and if you've wondered about yn powers well this is your part...

“Hello big brother” You said as the Night Court arrived into the meeting room. Rhysand and a very pregnant Fayre, stood with shocked expressions, meaning that they’d overheard the conversation that you’d just had. Behind them you could see Cassian's broad frame tower and next to him, next to him was Azriel. Morrigan, Amren and Nesta seemed to stand behind them trying to get a good look at the drama unfolding right before them. But with Amren's height it was a miracle that I even could make out the top of her head.The look on his face was just plain sadness and envy, envy as he stared at the many parts where yours and Eris's bodies met. Shadows started to flood the floor as the cavalry from your home court stepped out of the large entrance to the room.

“Y/n/n please tell me that it's all a joke, you can't be Autumn's High Lady!” Rhysand asked you pleadingly.

“So what if I am? Let me get this clear. I am never ever going back to the Night Court. Not after what you all did, what you did.” You said looking accusingly at Azriel.

“Sweetheart I never meant to hurt you, Elain just needed some distraction but you are the one I love, you're my mate!” Azriel told me as he stepped forward and in the same moment Eris's hand flew out to stop him.

“If you take one more step towards her I will burn you to death.” Eris murmured to him, marking every word. “She's my mate! Not yours, she belongs with me! Elain was just a dumb mistake!” Azriel screamed at Eris as Rhysand held him back. “I stopped being yours the moment you cheated on me, and don't you dare to lay all this on Elain. She wasn't in a good phase back then, and we all know it.” You told Azriel. Behind you Helion coughed, symbolizing that the others had arrived. As you turned your back you felt someones hand on your arm, Nesta. The two of you had grown closer after the war. You would often sit in the library together, just reading.

“I'm so, so sorry Y/n. I shouldn’t-” She whispered to you. “Don't, you didn't have anything to do with it. If anything you really helped me, if you someday want a place to just run away to for a while you'll always be welcome in my court.” You told her warmly.

Once you and Eris had gotten seated you could feel the gazes the other High Lords threw at you. And you got it, you’d been your brother's right hand and now, now you were Autumn's High Lady, and everyone knew that the Autumn court and the Night Court didn't have the best relationship…

“So how's Autumn doing now that Beron’s gone? Are your people happy with their new High Lady?” Tarquin asked Eris. “Quite well. My father definitely wasn't the best of High Lords so there's much to do and many things to change but I'm lucky Y/N has been of great help and our people love her, but I mean who wouldn’t. We're currently very open to allies” Eris calmly answered the young High Lord. “Why would we trust you? Like father, like son.” Taunted Rhysand.

“Eris is nothing like Beron and the fact you suggest otherwise when I, your own sister, is married to him, really fucking shows how low you think of me, and of him. Eris is by far the best male I have ever met.” You told Rhysand, quickly erasing that smug smile off his face. You could feel Eris's affectionate stare resting at your face and you placed your hand in his and he firmly held on, almost like he thought you would disappear if he let go of you.

When the meeting was over you and Eris got shown to your quarters, a beautiful ensemble of rooms with marble floors and large windows. Eris quickly sat down at the couch dragging you down in his lap.

“Thank you, thank you for standing up for me.” He mumbled between the sweet kisses he pressed to your neck.

“Always, Eris, Always.” You gasped.

Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted the two of you.

“I'm going to kill whoever's behind that door. ” Eris murmured, his hair a mess. You chuckled quickly and said: “It might be a possible ally so I suggest that you don't.” Eris just rolled his eyes but a large smile was plastered on his face. “One minute just let me-” You said, fixing Eris's hair. “Thanks love!” he said sweetly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then he opened the door to reveal… Tarquin.

“I hope I'm not bothering you but I would like to discuss an alliance between our courts.” He told the two of you. You and Eris exchanged a surprised look, Tarquin had been a proud ally of Rhysand since the war against Hybern. “Come on in.” You said nicely. The three of you sat down at a low table. You quickly noticed that the rest of the Summer Court was missing.

“Your visions for your court align with mine on a level no other court does. We have been taking in emigrants from the Spring Court for a while and I'm guessing that you have done the same.” He paused and you nodded in agreement. “I want to create a place for them where before we have established them, they can live and be with friends and family. Would the two of you be interested in this?” he asked you.

“Definitely.” Eris said.

The rest of the evening went on smoothly for you and Eris. After Tarquin left you were visited by the Day Court and the Winter court, both interested in an alliance. When you and Eris went to bed smiles were painting your faces and you fell asleep in his arms.

__________________________________

You woke up quite early and decided to go down to the dining room, getting breakfast. You had left a note to Eris, in case you got stuck talking to someone. When you walked into the room you could see the whole Night Court sitting and talking to each other. Aside from them the room was completely empty. Suddenly you felt someone's arms around you, Morrigan. You quickly pushed her away, starting to walk out when you saw two males get in the way, cowering at the entrance.

“Y/n we need to talk.” Rhysand said. “Please just let us explain.” Cassian begged you. The pleading in his eyes was the only thing that made you stay. Cass was like a brother to you. “Fine. What do you want?” You asked them. “Your power, no one but me is able to keep them in shack.” Rhysand said “You need us and we need you.” A scoff unleashed from you. “So this is what it's all about, you want my powers under your control. Well guess what, no. I don't need you. My powers work perfectly without you and your help. I was blessed by the Mother herself. I deserve them and I'm going to use them to help my court, The Autumn Court.” You said as you walked out of the room, going to one of the many balconies in the castle.

Starting out into the ocean made your thoughts wave over you. What are your powers really? You knew that you had Rhysand’s ability but you could also create things from nothing. You could heal people and under the war against Hybern you had felt the cauldron. That was when you realized it. Why you didn't look like your brother at all with your long white hair And clear blue eyes. And why you weren't born with wings like him. Maybe the Mother herself sent down the explanation because you sure as hell wouldn't have realized it without help. You weren't his sister at all. No you weren't even your parents real daughter. You were created by the Mother. You were the Daughter…

Author's note: hehe

Taglist: @queerqueenlynn @se7enteen--black-blog @@mybestfriendmademe @cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra #high lord eris x rhys!sister!reader x azriel #eris x oc #acotar angst #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar agains #acotar x you

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