#pls forgive me this was so long i have anxiety and this was making me sweat pleek | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinsofsummers · 1 year ago

Text

push & pull

5.7k | din djarin x f!reader

summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.

With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.

"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.

That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.

But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.

You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.

Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.

So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).

You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.

This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.

There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—

Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.

—

It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.

Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.

"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.

You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."

His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?

"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.

You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."

"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.

"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."

Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."

You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."

"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."

"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.

This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.

You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."

With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"

"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."

—

You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.

On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.

As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.

Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.

This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.

Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.

It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.

And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.

You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.

It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.

"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.

He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.

"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."

You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.

"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."

If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."

You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.

They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."

Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.

When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.

"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"

You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.

Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.

You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?

Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.

"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.

His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."

You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.

"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.

"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.

"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"

His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"

"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."

Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."

You swallowed roughly. "So?"

He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."

Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."

"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.

To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.

He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."

You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.

Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.

With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.

He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."

You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.

The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.

The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."

You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"

He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."

You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”

This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind.

With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like.

Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?

Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.

“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead.

His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.

You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving.

“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”

You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean.

“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”

“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”

When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently.

Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him.

Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar.

“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”

He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”

“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”

Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”

Well, how were you going to deny him then?

You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance.

“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”

A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.��

He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared.

“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”

He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”

Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back.

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth.

You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly.

Now…now you needed him inside you.

“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?”

He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again.

You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la.

“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged.

“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”

Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue.

His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”

You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck.

Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled.

Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”

You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.

Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege.

“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.

He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him.

You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.

You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”

He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you.

The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again.

“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release.

You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”

For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”

tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!

adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE

this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl

the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk

#din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #virgin!din djarin #din djarin x experienced!reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian #star wars #star wars smut #star wars fic

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annebaby · 5 months ago

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the bachelorette (pt. two)

hey everyone! this is NOT proofread pls forgive me. i have had such a stressful week with my sister being in town and clinicals. i hope you all enjoy this part two and please please PLEASE tell me in the comments!

love ya!

warnings: SMUTTTTT, oral (r receiving), cheating, sexuality discussion, just plain DIRTY

divider from here!

walking back to her hotel, kate could not keep her hands off of me. her hands were on my ass and around my waist, gripping and squeezing wherever she could. we chit chatted on the walk as well, discovering new little details about one another.

she still had no idea i was engaged to a man, and that she was about to ruin his whole plan for our lives. with the way she was holding me and whispering dirty things to me, his plans could go to hell.

maybe i’d tell her tomorrow? was i still going to be with her tomorrow? would we ever speak again? i didn’t know.

i guess i was too lost on thought throughout the last half of the walk, because we were at her empty hotel room before i knew it. it was untouched. her items were still in a suitcase in the corner, the single bed neatly made. how long would it take to completely ruin it?

i guess i would soon find out.

“when did you get here with your team?” i asked as she began to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping off her shoes.

“we just got here a few hours ago, coach wanted us on a team bonding thing? i’m not really sure,” she mumbled, looking up at me.

“team bonding? i can tell it isn’t working out if you’re already craving a stranger this much…” i drag.

her legs begin to manspread on the edge of the bed as she leans back, her arms holding her up. i smirk at her, walking closer as i slip off my heels.

“we’re so close, we don’t need any team bonding,” she responds. she looks me up and down, her eyebrows raising.

i crawl onto her lap, my dress bunching at my waist. my panties are out on display. it wasn’t a coincidence i wore my best lingerie set on my bachelorette weekend. as horrible as it may sound, i was hoping for this. i was hoping for something to keep me alive before i signed my life away to be numb.

her hands grip my waist, slightly bunching up my dress a little more. her eyes flicker down to the lace of my panties. she moves her fingers down, tracing the sides of them.

“we really about to do this? you sure you’re okay with it?” she asks, sincerely.

i really hope she can’t feel my core throbbing through her pants right now. her sudden sincereness makes me a bit nervous, the circumstances of the situation finally coming into view. i bite my lip, anxiety coursing through me.

“i’m sure,” i say, quietly.

her hands move back up to my waist, digging under my dress.

“you ever been with a girl before, Y/N?”

i gulped. do i tell her about will? do i tell her i haven’t even kissed a girl before? do i lie and say i have?

“i haven’t,” i breathe out.

she looks down, laughing to herself. her hands reach around to my back, trying to find the clap of my bra. she unhooks it effortlessly, slowly moving her hands to the straps of my dress.

“i’ll treat you good, don’t worry. if you want me to stop, just say so,” she says, slowly.

shes reaching around to the zipper of my dress next, attaching her lips to my neck at the same time. my breathe hitches in response to the contact. i lean into her, her lips traveling to the sides of my neck, and the zipper of my dress becoming fully undone. i feel the cold air hit my back and i get goosebumps. she’s kissing my neck hard. she’s sucking, biting, and licking the spots after.

suddenly, she pulls away and grabs me by the waist. she stands me up as she stands up herself, tugging on the bottom of my dress until it was a pile on the hotel room floor.

she admires my body fully, licking her lips subconsciously. she gently places her hands back on my hips and turns me around, slightly pushing me onto the edge of the bed. my legs are dangling down, my back flat.

“God, you’re perfect,” she whispers, getting on her knees.

her hands run up and down my thighs teasingly.

“y’know, one of your friends told me about your fiancé. he seems like a nice guy.”

my head jerks up immediately, looking her in the eyes.

“how did you-,” i can’t finish before she tugs on the strap of my panties, sliding them off.

she smirks at my sudden pause. with my panties gone, she grabs my ankles and puts them on her shoulders, pulling me close to the edge of the bed.

“don’t worry, i won’t tell him. just promise me one thing hm?” she leans in close, her lips barely touching my core. i gasp quietly at her teasing.

“if i make you feel better than he does,” she kisses my clit.

i clench the sheets, my thighs already tensing.

“then you’ll leave him and be mine,” she ends, hovering over me.

“i can’t just-,” she cuts me off again, this time devouring me with her tongue.

she hums as a response, sending vibrations straight to the pile of nerves. her eyes are closed and her fingers are gripping my hips so tight, i would probably have bruises tomorrow. she did her best trying to keep me still, but it was so overwhelming. her tongue was alternating between slow circles and kitten licks. i could not handle it.

i moaned slightly, my hand immediately clasping over my mouth. she reached up and grabbed my arm, putting it in her hair. almost as if she wanted to hear me. i breathed out intensely, my hips mercilessly grinding against her face.

she could tell i was close, so she attached her mouth to my clit, sucking and licking. over, and over, and over again. both hands found her hair as i felt myself release. she pulled back for a second and grinned up at me.

“that’s it,” she whispered, diving back down to lick me once more.

my breathing slowly returned to normal as she stood up and crawled on top of me. i took my thumb and wiped her lip of any excess, sticking my thumb in my mouth after. she smiled wildly, showing off her perfect teeth.

i smile back, feeling an extreme amount of courage flow through my veins.

“don’t worry, i’ll tell him tomorrow,” i say, pulling kate down to kiss me.

“i figured you would,” she responds, kissing me deeper.

#kate martin #las vegas aces #wnba basketball #wbb x reader #iowa women’s basketball #kate martin x reader #caitlin clark #indiana fever #lv aces #bisexual #wlw smut #wlw post #wlw #lesbian #lesbianism

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midnightsnyx · 3 months ago

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 11

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warning: alcohol and angst word count: 1288k (sorry)

authors note: i can't wait for nora to break everyone's heart in this chapter :) :) :) anyway im so sorry this is short and 100% a filler chapter but I need it to be able to write what will happen next. pls comment even if it’s constructive criticism because comments feed my writing soul 🩵 big big thanks to @justonemorewallflower for editing this!!

masterlist masterpost ask box

The aftermath of her is interesting, to say the least. Training camp is creeping up and soon, Mat will have to return to New York. The two of you had a long but enlightening conversation shortly after his breakdown at your apartment. You had woken up the next morning to Nora’s foot digging into your kidney and Mat’s feet near your face but all the discomfort evaporated when the three of you made breakfast together.

For the first time since Mat found out about Nora, you didn’t have anxiety or dread hanging over your shoulders. You weren’t worrying about other people's opinions or how Mat is adjusting or crazy girlfriends. You’re finally able to focus on trying to figure out how exactly to make this work.

Mat on the other hand, is doing everything he can to try and make up for everything but he’s going a tad overboard.

“She does not need a kitten, Mathew,” you say firmly, refusing to look at his phone that has a picture of a kitten.

“C’mon, look at that cute little fluffy baby,” he says, trying to push the phone closer to you. “It’ll teach her responsibility!”

“She’s six,” you remind him, picking up a blanket off the couch and folding it. Mat’s been sleeping at your apartment but on the couch, much to Nora’s dismay. She assumes now that Mat isn’t dating anyone, you and Mat will get back together. The look of relief on her face when Mat told her Calista wasn’t going to be around anymore made you want to cry. You hadn’t truly understood just how much Mat’s toxic relationship was affecting Nora.

However, her insistence that you and Mat get married now is getting a bit out of hand.

“We should talk about it,” he says quietly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

He’s not talking about the kitten now. He’s referring to what kind of living situation you’re going to have come hockey season.

“Yeah,” you sigh, placing the final blanket on the pile and turning to face him. He looks unsure, eyes darting around the room and looking everywhere except at you.

It’s unusual to see him unsure about himself. The Mat you knew when you were young was confident and rarely doubted anything.

The past two months changed that, Nora changed it.

“I know you said that you don’t want to move-”

“Mat,”

“-but what if we just do weekends?”

You give him a dry look. “Weekends? You want me and Nora to fly to New York every weekend? What are we, Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift?”

“If you’d told me about her in the first place, this wouldn’t be an issue!” He snaps, and you flinch because he’s right. If you had listened to what everyone was telling you seven years ago, and told Mat about Nora, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You had your reasons though, and you’ll stand by them.

“You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know how I can.”

. . .

Bringing up the news that Mat has to go back to New York soon does not go over well with Nora. You’ve seen her throw tantrums before, but this is next level. She locks herself in her bedroom and refuses to come out, demanding for grandma Nadia to come to your apartment, which is an easy fix. One phone call and she’s at the front door.

Nora opens her bedroom door when she hears Nadia’s voice, but still looks suspicious when she opens it enough for her to squeeze through. They’re in her room for about fifteen minutes before they both come out, Nadia looking exasperated but somber at the same time.

They stand in front of you and Mat, Nora staring at the floor and Nadia looking at the two of you.

“Nora would like to ask the New York Islanders owners to relocate to British Columbia,” she says, pressing her lips together. You can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or not to cry.

Mat kneels down so he’s at Nora’s height and hesitantly takes her hands in his. “We can definitely write them a letter peanut, but that’s a lot easier said than done.”

She’s looking at the ground still but you can see teardrops hitting the floor and your heart breaks even more, if possible.

“Why?” She sniffles and Mat gives you a desperate look. You’ve been a mom for six years, he hasn’t even been a dad for 2 months.

“Nora,” you say softly but firm enough that she looks up at you. “I explained how hockey works, remember?”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, sniffling. “But maybe if we explain, they’ll change it.”

You kneel down so you’re at her level and wipe her face. “They won’t, baby.”

She starts sobbing when you say that, throwing one arm around you and one around Mat. You keep yourself from breaking down but you can hear Nadia sniffing quietly and Mat’s shoulders are shaking.

All you wanted was for Nora to know Mat and his family but nothing has worked out the way you planned. You have no idea how it got to this point and you’re not sure if it’s going to be able to be fixed.

. . .

“What are you wishing for this year?” You asked Nora before she blew out the candles for her fifth birthday.

She tapped her chin a few times before grinning. “A daddy!”

Nobody else heard her and she was too distracted to see the heartbroken look on your face.

. . .

“Figure anything out yet?” Marlee asks, putting a glass of wine in front of you.

After taking a sip of your wine, you shake your head. “Nope. I can’t uproot Nora’s life, and Mat has to go back to New York.”

He’s been trying to spend as much time with her the past few days after her breakdown. They’re at the Barzal household tonight so you’re at Marlee’s, trying to forget for a while. You have no idea what to do and it’s killing you. Nora has been quiet and distant, and you don’t know what to read of that. Part of you wonders if she wants to move to New York with Mat, but deep down you know your daughter and if you just take her away from everybody and everything she knows, it won’t end well.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Marlee says, being completely unhelpful. You know she can’t solve your problems but you thought she would at least have some advice.

“You got nothing?” You ask dryly.

She sighs, looking up at the ceiling before turning her gaze to you. “Look, moving to New York? Probably a bad idea, but is it worth trying? Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“This is my first, thank you very much,” she sniffs.

“But you’re suggesting I move Nora to New York?” You ask incredulously. This is completely out of character for Marlee. She’s usually the one who thinks things through.

“A trial,” she says. “Try moving to New York with Mat. The worst that will happen is you and Nora coming home.”

Even though she’s saying this nonchalantly, she’s staring into her wine glass thoughtfully. You know she wouldn’t have suggested it if she hadn’t thought it through.

The idea of moving is daunting and you’re not sure if you will even be able to go through with it. She’s right though, you could do a trial before Nora starts school. See how life in New York with Mat would be. If it would work.

“You really think it could work?” You ask quietly.

“You won’t know until you try.”

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @fallinallincurls @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @lovinbarzal

@whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe @samanthasgone @mariamuses @feminieun @abeautifulcherryblossom @ya-pucking-nerd @bborra

if you wanna be added or taken off the list, let me know please! or if i missed you!!

#allies writing #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader

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ordowrites · 2 months ago

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Insomnia Pt 2

characters: kaeya, neuvilette, diluc (again)

cw: depression mention, anxiety mention, no pronouns used but reader is given affectionate terms, warnings for diluc's past, honestly this is just written for my own self comfort and indulgence so mild ooc warning. mdni, blank blogs dni. reader is not the traveler, reader has an electro vision. fluff. very corny. i have writer's block so pls forgive me.

Kaeya is woken up by you a few nights in a row now - he knows how quiet you try to be when you crawl out of bed as he has long mornings, days, and sometimes even nights. still, the bed is always too empy without you and the minute you leave, he considers getting up to follow you. But he understands your need to be left alone.

It's only when you don't come back to bed that he's getting up, hardly caring about being robed as he joins you in the living room, where you've tucked yourself away.

Puffy eyed and staring at the purple gem.

Ah.

"Shall I make you the cocoa you love?" You shake your head. "Okay, what would you like?"

"Just sit with me." So he does, and you lean into his arms. He wishes he could shield you forever from the pain of the world, take it all away and be your knight in shining armor. But he can't always do that. So he kisses the top of your head and murmurs things he hopes helps.

Sleepless nights are not uncommon in this household at all.

Neuvilette is somehow both surprised and not too surprised to see you outside so late at night - eyes straining in the dim street lighting to read your book. When he prompts about it, you merely shrug.

"It's a good book." you simply say. "Care to join me, Monsieur Neuvilette?"

"I would be honored." Your smile is lovely as he sits down in the metal chair that is, quite frankly, uncomfortable. "It is late, are you alright?"

"'m fine, got my book." You nod to the book you aren't actually reading. "Couldn't sleep, so...came out here. I like it when it's night time. Everything is so calm and quiet."

He gets it - the bustling city of Fontaine, the hectic schedule of an overworked journalist. You're doing your best and that's all he can tell you.

"But if you don't mind....I do like the company of another." So your thoughts don't wander, so you don't feel like you'll breakdown again.

"I shall stay for as long as you need."

Diluc is no stranger to sleepless nights, in fact, he's quite uses to them. Thoughts of his past linger too closely to him, they return in sensory - biting cold, a loud voice, flames that burn too hot.

And tonight, you're tossing and turning - tonight, you're struggling with anxieties about things neither of you can control.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Your voice breaks the air - tired. Exhausted.

"Yeah."

He feels like a kid again - sneaking out, and walking around the manor's grounds under a starlit sky.

"Nightmare again?"

"Nothing to worry about, my beloved." Diluc lets out a heavy sigh. "What about you?"

"Ugh, just can't sleep much these days." He understands and beckons for you to follow him - it's a spot where he and Kaeya used to hide out late at night. "You know how it is. I worry for you."

"My beloved, I always come home.

"I know." you mumble as he pulls you into a tender hug. "Archons, Diluc, I have nightmares about losing you."

"I know, I know. I'm here." Diluc hushes. "I'm here now."

"For how much longer?" You cling to him tighter and you both stay, hidden in this field until Adelinde calls for breakfast. Diluc doesn't get the chance to answer as you pull away to head back to the manor, the conversation dying.

For the rest of time, he thinks, as he follows you back. I promise.

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alexawynters · 1 year ago

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Scarlet Whispers pt. 8

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-7 here

Chapter Eight

Translations: котёнок - Kitten; malyshka - baby; lyubov - love; dorogoya - darling; I probably missed some… I should have probably been doing this the entire time, no? Eh… My b.

A/N: Its uhhh.. My first time writing smut for the public so uh… be gentle pls? Lol. Lemme know how it went. Writing dialog and smut makes me cringe haha. This was also written while I was in the hospital. Is it bad that the 5 day stay was almost a vacation compared to life? Haha, living the dreeeaammm. Someone pls hit me with their car or something so I can go back and have 0 responsibilities for another week. Promise I won’t sue 😛

Once again, edited while floaty. Apparently that’s the only time I can get the motivation to open my laptop. In my defense, I’m currently in the middle of a move and starting a new job so pls forgive my laziness. I’m a tad overwhelmed. It’s finnnne.

____________________________________________________________

During your time at the aquarium with Wanda, you hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Logically, you knew it was around dinner time because you both had just eaten, but you didn't realize until you both entered the dimly lit cottage that it was so dark outside. Despite the long day you’d had, you weren't ready to go to bed just yet. Body thrumming with an unfamiliar energy, and you could tell it stemmed from Wanda's hand still holding onto your waist. Now that you were home, it would be socially acceptable for her to let you go, but instead, she chose to linger.

Never one to enjoy having others in your personal space, regardless of if you were touch starved, you were thrilled to discover that you didn't mind the witch being so close to you. In fact, the mere thought of being separated from her made your stomach roil with anxiety. Looking at the redhead next to you as you traversed the hallway towards your room for the evening, a new kind of craving overcame you. This one was different from the hunger you had experienced just before dinner, and you realized that you couldn't get enough of the witch’s touch and presence.

Reaching your shared room Wanda finally moves to separate from you, and as she heads opposite from you, her hand falling away, you make a split-second decision. Well. Decision was being generous. More accurately you allowed your impulses to take over, unable to think logically - you couldn’t let Wanda get too far. Not that there was anywhere for her to go in a bedroom you both shared, but your brain wasn’t exactly running on all cylinders at this time.

“Wait!”

You don’t know what, or even if you were thinking, knowing only that in the scant few feet the witch was away from you, your whole world felt like it was collapsing. A lightly calloused hand shot out as you turned to grab her hand again, and in your exuberance, you accidentally ended up yanking the woman towards you. In an unexpected feat of grace surprising both of you, you managed to catch Wanda. Despite her velocity, you were able to use her momentum, spinning both of you. A small jolt of pain wracked through your bones as your back landed harshly against the smooth wall, with Wanda safely in your arms. Chests heaved for air, both of you having fully expected to collide, ending up in a heap on the floor.

After the initial surprise wore off, both women giggled, though neither made a move to separate. “What is it, Y/N?” the older woman asked. Amusement colored her gaze, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. You were still learning new facial expressions to this day.

“I-” You started then stopped, trying to assemble your thoughts and determine just how vulnerable you were willing to be. “Thank you, Wanda. For today. For… everything. This was..” you trailed off, unable to find the words. “Everything.”

You hoped Wanda would understand what you meant by that even if you yourself weren’t quite sure just yet. What you were sure of is that you wanted to return to Wanda at least a fraction of the care and devotion she had shown you in all this time. You knew you didn’t want her to walk away, heart aching at the concept. What you didn’t know was what you wanted to do next, you hadn’t exactly gotten that far, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of being apart from her.

The redhead’s gaze softened at your words. “You don’t need to thank me, lyubov. You deserve so much, and I just want you to be happy.”

The words “with me” went unspoken, though she was dying to let them out. Instead, well-manicured hands lifted the tips of her fingers to gently push some fallen strands of your hair from your face, as she studied you curiously. A feeling you both were on the precipice of something settled firmly within the witch’s chest. Wanda was fairly confident she knew exactly what that something was, but she wouldn’t plunge you into anything you weren’t yet ready to fall into.

Though certain in her assumptions, Wanda was unable to clearly read your surface thoughts. A jumbled mass of emotions, each thought no more than fleeting before another took its place, your mind was a whirlwind. The next steps had to be taken by you, and if you weren’t up for that yet, the redhead was content with where you both were at this moment.

A palpable tension filled the air, conveying an unspoken awareness that something transformative was about to occur. Anticipation lingered in the atmosphere, creating a delicate blend of nervousness and excitement. There was an understated, magnetic attraction that drew you closer to Wanda. Completely unaware as you were, enthralled by the alluring softness of her lips which stoked a longing within you to know if they felt as velvety as they appeared, you were unconsciously learning forward.

It was a moment of breathless expectation, where time seemed to stretch. The world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the beauty of the impending inevitability. Eyes finally connecting with Wanda’s, a silent, mutual understanding was shared, and in that moment, you made a decision.

”May I…?” your voice a husky tremor, thick with emotion.

Never had Wanda found you more endearing than in that moment. Your innocent consideration that you would need to ask her permission after everything. As if she hadn't been waiting for this very moment for so long. As if this wasn’t what she had been waiting for since first discovering the Darkhold, and all the possibilities of a multiverse.

“Please, Y/N.” The witch’s reply was all but a breathy whisper.

As your lips and hers finally connected in a gentle, exploratory kiss, an electric current seemed to pass through their bodies, igniting a fire within your souls. It was a moment of pure magic, a culmination of all the emotions and desires that had been building between you both. Breaths mingled, blending together in a perfect harmony of passion and longing.

The softness of the kiss spoke volumes, revealing a depth of connection that you were certain words could never fully capture. A tender exchange, filled with a delicate balance of vulnerability and trust. Each touch, each movement of Wanda’s lips against yours, was deliberate, as if she was savoring every precious moment of this newfound intimacy with you.

With every passing second, the world around faded away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a bubble of pure bliss. Time seemed to stand still as you explored this uncharted territory together. A feeling as if something inside, you hadn’t known had been missing, was now perfectly slotted into place. Home.

When it came to kissing you, Wanda marveled at the stark contrasts between your Avenger variant, and you. While your other variant was self-assured, often taking command of a kiss with practiced skill, you, on the other hand, were gentle and tentative. It was evident that you were willing to let Wanda take the lead, which she found incredibly empowering, almost addictive. She knew she should probably take this first kiss slowly for you, however, your submissiveness was simply too delicious for her to pass up such an opportunity.

Long, slender fingers came to rest just under your jaw, firmly holding you close, Wanda using her body to press you harder against the wall, as if trying to merge your two bodies into one. A gasp escaped you at the length of the witch’s body pressed so intimately against you. Wanda, ever opportunistic, took advantage of your open mouth to deepen the kiss, her lithe tongue swiping softly at the seam of your lips in askance.

You couldn’t even fathom a moment where you would ever deny Wanda this request, opening your mouth to grant her the access she desired. Her skillful tongue sensually slid against yours, eliciting a barely suppressed whimper from you. With a little coaxing Wanda was able to entice your tongues to engage in a seductive dance, leaving you breathless and heady.

Eventually, the kiss broke, leaving both of you craving more. It had opened the door to a world of possibilities, and in that moment, everything changed. The bond between the pair of you had deepened more than you could know, and more than Wanda had hoped for. Despite initial reservations, your heart knew then you would follow Wanda anywhere, irrevocably tied to the witch forever. There was no one you wanted or trusted more.

While trying to catch your breath, no words were spoken. Taking this moment, your intrusive thoughts began creeping in because of course they were. Desperately you hoped the woman wouldn’t view the kiss as a mistake, praying that you measured up to your superhero counterpart. That you were truly what she had been looking for all this time, even if you weren’t anything special.

You would do anything to have her lips on yours again, and briefly a thought occurred to you that this woman could murder you, and you would probably thank her for the privilege. Therapy, maybe you should ask Wanda if she could get you in to see a therapist, because that wasn’t concerning at all.

It wasn't in you to feel ashamed just then though, not when the very thought resonated in your soul. Gods, was this what you had been missing your entire life? And it had been right under your nose, for ages you had been unknowingly depriving yourself, hellbent on self-sabotage.

As you finally caught your breath, the witch gazed at you hungrily, causing a shiver to race down your spine.

"What do you want, detka?" Wanda asked, voice sultry. She tilted her head as if curious, but in reality, she was relishing in your disheveled appearance, eyes raking over your blown pupils, and kiss-swollen lips. So responsive for her, and this was only a kiss. Your first kiss with her, to be specific. Wanting to completely ruin you, it took every ounce of self-restraint for Wanda to wait for your answer instead.

Chest heaving, your brain struggled to pull together enough brain cells in order to provide her with an answer. When you finally spoke, your voice had a throaty quality you had never heard before.

”You. I want you.”

Green eyes, the color of jade, sparkled in such delight they could have practically illuminated the room with their vibrant glow. As you stared into her mesmerizing gaze, you got lost in her presence. Your mind was a myriad of thoughts, unable to focus on anything else. Every word she spoke, every movement she made, had a profound impact on you. As if the witch had cast a spell over you, weaving her magic effortlessly, and you willingly succumbed to her enchantment, eager to be under her captivating influence.

A mischievous smile played upon her lips, adding an air of mystery to her already enchanting demeanor. The grin hinted at the hidden depths within her, the playful intentions that lied just beneath the surface. So, as Wanda’s mischievous smile lingered, you couldn't help but be drawn further into her web of enchantment, willingly surrendering yourself to the metaphorical spell she had cast.

"Oh, lyubov, will you let me ruin you?" she asked teasingly, her voice filled with impishness and a hint of excitement.

Swallowing nervously, you felt desire building deep within you. Your experiences in this matter were limited, but you trusted the former avenger all the same. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Wanda had in store for you would likely test your limits, even if you had no idea what those were yet. Eagerly, you nodded, ready to throw yourself headlong into this unknown, trusting the witch implicitly.

The moment her silky lips met yours once again, a hunger ignited within her, surprising both of you with its intensity and passion. Wanda pulled you close, her fingers curled in your hair, keeping you in place as she plundered your mouth. You could do little but let her lead the way, trying not to embarrass yourself with how much she was turning you on. Her sharp teeth tugged on your lower lip before biting down hard enough to draw blood. A pitiful whine was barely restrained by you as Wanda lapped at the new wound she had caused.

Deciding to test your boundaries during the kiss, the redhead gently wrapped her other hand around your throat. Not tight enough to cut off your oxygen supply, but the pressure did restrict some of the blood flow to your brain, leaving you in a deliciously foggy haze. A breathy moan escaped you, which Wanda eagerly swallowed as you gladly ceded control of the kiss to her. Pride out the window, you were no longer capable of trying to withhold any sounds she could draw from you. Wanda found it delightful that so far you were proving to be the perfect little котёнок for her. The redhead eagerly anticipated discovering what other surprises you had in store for her.

The other hand not on your neck moved from your hair down to the first button of your shirt and hesitated. “Is this okay, Y/N?” She asked, voice surprisingly soft for someone who currently had one of their hands wrapped around your neck.

Sluggish thoughts hazy with lust, you nodded with what would have probably counted as an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. Having someone as gorgeous as Wanda in front of you, asking for your consent, you found you couldn’t be bothered by your eagerness. You were a simp, and you were fine with that. Anything to get more of Wanda touching you.

The former Avenger grinned, finding you utterly adorable. She was charmed by how needy you were for her. Unable to help but revel in the power dynamics between you, relishing the opportunity to challenge your blissed-out mind and watch as you struggled to comply with her demands. It was a delightful game for Wanda, and she was going to have fun training you.

Before she could continue though, the witch wanted you to be absolutely sure. Regardless of how long she had waited for you, if you weren’t truly ready, Wanda didn’t want to push you. She wanted all of you, everything you had to give, but if you still weren’t ready, weren’t sure, she could wait. Wanda would wait forever if she had to.

“Lyubov moya, if you want me to stop at any point, just say the word, and I’ll stop immediately, okay? Full stop, I promise, and I won’t be upset with you.” she insisted, voice thick with longing as her nose grazed gently across yours in a reassuring manner.

Even now, Wanda was always putting your safety and happiness as her top priority, endearing her evermore to you. How could you have ever doubted that this woman had anything but your best interests at heart? The purest of intentions?

Knowing it was a bit over dramatic, while you appreciated her reassurances, if the witch didn’t do something in the next few seconds, you felt like you might combust. Releasing a needy whine, you hoped to convey your desperation to Wanda who only chuckled at your behavior.

“Relax, malyshka, I’ll take good care of you, I promise. But first, I need you to use your words, darling.” The hand on your throat easing its grip a little, allowing more blood to your brain, giving you back some of your intellectual capacity.

With Wanda’s body covering yours, you petulantly ground against her in the hopes of achieving any sort of friction, causing her lips to quirk upwards in an amused smirk. You weren’t going to get out of this until she had confirmation of your understanding, and if she happened to tease you into a petulant, writing mess in the process, well, that was just the cherry on top.

Giving in, you let out a keening whimper. “I understand Wands, please. Just touch me. Please!”

A wolfish grin overtook Wanda’s face at your begging. Green eyes locked with yours, and she could see the desire and longing in your eyes, mirroring her own. The way you looked at her, with a mixture of vulnerability and trust, made her heart flutter with a sense of joy and fulfillment. You were willing to surrender yourself to her guidance, to allow her to take the lead and shape you into the person she knew you could become. That kind of implicit trust and faith you had in her shot her arousal through the roof.

With each passing moment, Wanda's excitement grew, knowing that she had the opportunity to train and mold you into her perfect little котёнок. She relished the thought of all the fun games that lay ahead, confident in her ability to guide you towards your full potential. Your willingness to submit to her desires fueled her passion, making her all the more determined to own you completely. This power was the ultimate high, and she didn’t think she could ever get enough of it.

Her hand moved from your throat to wrap around your waist with a firm yet gentle grasp, pulling you closer to her in an undeniable display of ownership. The touch of her hand on your hip sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you that you had never experienced before. It was a possessiveness that transcended the boundaries of mere desire, a possessiveness that spoke volumes about the depth of her emotions for you.

Far from being suffocating, her dominance was a testament to the strength of your bond. A tangible manifestation of the passion that burned between the two of you, it was a flame that only grew stronger with each passing moment. Her assertive touch was a declaration, a proclamation of her utter devotion and fierce protectiveness towards you.

In that instant, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. A sensation that both thrilled and comforted you, it was a magnetic pull that drew you closer to her with each passing second. Feeling as if you were the center of her universe, the focus of her unfaltering attention, and you visibly preened under her attentiveness. Your hands which were clenching the bottom of her shirt held fast, unwilling to let her move more than a few inches away.

Now that she had your consent and had subtly established your place with her, Wanda's svelte hands returned to the task of unbuttoning your shirt. Unable to resist the allure of your lips for long, she passionately kissed you once again. As your lips moved against each other with a sensual rhythm, Wanda swiftly unbuttoned your shirt. Before you knew it, your shirt was completely undone, revealing your torso to her exploring hands. A shiver ran through your body as her slightly cool palm pressed against your abdomen for the very first time, the gravity of her body pressing you further into the wall. While you had felt her touch on your skin before, it had never been this intimate, this exhilarating.

As her hand glided over your bare skin, heat coursed through your body, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. The flames within you steadily stoked by every caress. Your breath hitched as her touch lingered, tracing delicate patterns along your abdomen.

Growing desperate you deepened the kiss. Your hands instinctively reach for her, moving from the hem of her shirt to tangle in her hair as you pull her closer. The magnitude of the moment was almost too much, feeling the desire consuming you from within.

Wanda's lips slid against yours with a fervent hunger. Her roving hands continued their journey, tracing every curve and contour of your torso with an almost reverent touch, sending pleasure coursing through your body. As your lips moved in perfect synchrony, heightening your senses, it left you yearning for more. The room was filled with a heady mix of desire and anticipation, as you both gave in to the draw of the moment..

Lost in the haze of passion, you couldn't help but give yourself completely to Wanda's touch. The way she explored every inch of your body with a delicate yet possessive hand left you breathless, craving more of her commanding aura. It was a dance of pleasure and surrender, a symphony of sensations that left you craving her touch like a drug. You had never needed anyone or anything as much as you needed Wanda to continue doing whatever she wanted to you.

As the kiss broke, both of you gasped for air. Wanda, still breathing heavily, leaned back to take in the sight of your newly revealed skin, her eyes darkening with want. Though never having been confident in your own body, often choosing to cover up, to hide in your self-consciousness, the way Wanda was looking at you now though left no doubt she liked what she saw. Yet still your insecurities plagued you, especially now that you were no longer covered up and there was nothing for you to hide behind.

The witch didn’t need to read your mind to know where your thoughts were going. The expression on your face, the way you tried to curl in on yourself made it plain. Voice thick with desire, Wanda needed to reassure you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Don’t ever let yourself believe otherwise.”

Though you didn’t truly believe her words, her tone and the way she held you like she couldn’t get enough was almost capable of convincing you in and of itself. You decided then that throwing yourself into this was the fastest way to get out of your head. Throwing caution to the wind, you slammed your lips against Wanda’s again, desperate for more of her.

Impatient, you couldn't resist the urge to guide Wanda's hands lower, craving for her to touch you more. Deft fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, sending a surge of pleasure shooting through you, and tearing a quiet gasp from your mouth. Your body responded eagerly to her every caress, arching into her hands, silently begging for more. Emboldened by your response, Wanda's touch grew daring, her kisses to your neck pressing harder leaving red welts that would purple over by tomorrow. Her marks on you would tell all who you belonged to. Her fingers began exploring your body with a newfound confidence. The touch was both gentle and possessive, leaving you with the utter clarity that she wanted to mark every inch of you as her own, even the parts of you no one else would ever see.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, heavy with desire. Feeling the urgency building within you, your body pressed closer to Wanda's, seeking to ease some of the pressure within. Her touch was all at once overwhelming yet not enough.

Determined to elicit every delicious sound she could from you, one of Wanda's hands finally moved to your breast. Gently she cupped it while her thumb teased you by gliding around your areola, avoiding your hardened bud. She took great enjoyment in your whimpers and gasps as she teased you. If she had it her way, she would keep you like this, never giving you quite what you wanted. Wanda would ease you into that eventually though. For now, this was enough.

Eventually she had mercy on you, letting her thumb lightly graze across your nipple. A deep, throaty groan emanated from within you, your hips bucking against hers, unbidden. Taking the opportunity you had presented her with, Wanda slotted her knee between your thighs, applying firm pressure just where you needed it most. You whispered an exhaled curse as your head slumped forward onto the older woman’s shoulder. Your grip on her tightened, the urge to just rut against Wanda’s leg nearly overpowering what little was left of your rational mind.

Wanda could feel the subtle grinding of your hips against her leg, and she encouraged it, pressing harder each time you arched towards her. The witch grasped your hips firmly, helping to set your rhythm as you desperately sought more friction between the apex of your thighs.

For someone who hadn't even taken off their pants yet, you were surprisingly worked up, but you were far too focused on chasing your high to be overly concerned about it. Sensing how close you were, Wanda pulled away from you, calling forth a keening whine from you. The older woman chuckled softly at your desperation. Her raspy voice next to your ear made you shudder.

"Patience, dorogoya, I don't want you to come just yet unless it's in my mouth or on my fingers."

Wholly unprepared for her words as you were, they almost single-handedly threatened to ruin the witch’s plans as you nearly came on the spot. Wanda was aware that you had likely never edged before, and while she should have shown some mercy, she found no enjoyment in that prospect. Her intention was to have you so drunk for her to the point where you would become a helpless, trembling wreck, willing to do anything she desired just to reach that peak. Then, she planned to repeatedly push you off that ledge so many times that you would be a boneless, quivering mess for her by the time she was done with you.

As her words hung in the air, you felt a mixture of anticipation and hesitation. This was a new territory for you, one that you weren't entirely sure of what you were getting into. But as you looked into Wanda's eyes, filled with desire and a touch of mischief, you couldn't deny your feelings. You wanted to experience everything she was willing to show you, to give yourself fully and trust in her to guide you through this journey of pleasure.

With a deep breath, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "I trust you, Wanda."

A smug smile played on Wanda's lips as she gently held your cheek. "Good," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "I promise you won't regret it. Now, let’s take this to the bed.” She didn’t want your first time together to be rutting up against a wall.

Wanda grasped your hand, leading you the remainder of the distance to your shared bed. Once there the witch assisted you in removing the remnants of your clothes, gently pushing you backwards onto the bed. Before joining you, she took a moment to admire your naked body, as you looked up at her with a combination of desire and excitement. You were uncertain of her intentions, but the fact that you were willing to trust her filled Wanda's heart with joy.

With a gaze that could only be described as ravenous, she studied you and quietly uttered a curse. "Fucking exquisite" she husked, hoping to drive home her words from earlier.

Squirming under her intense gaze, you blushed deeply at her compliment. No one had ever called you that before, not in your entire life. The longer you laid there, alone under her scrutiny, the greater your need for Wanda grew. Before you could ask her to rejoin you, she was already removing her own clothes with purpose. You waited with bated breath, as Wanda revealed her body which you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Honestly, you thought it was a little unfair for someone to look so perfect. You felt absolutely privileged to be in this moment with her, that she had chosen you of all people to witness her glory. No one you had ever seen, in person or even on tv could compare. Wanda was a goddess, and you wanted to worship at her altar.

The redhead knew she was an attractive woman, but your loud thoughts were giving her quite the ego boost. She had you right where she wanted you, but Wanda would be damned if she allowed your self-deprecation to continue. There was not a single doubt in her mind that you were equally deserving to be here with her.

“Your thoughts are loud, malyshka.” She almost giggled at how red your face turned when she called you out, reminding you of her powers, and your gaze dropped.

“While I’m flattered, darling, you need to know.” Wanda said with certainty as she began crawling up the bed towards you. Once she had crawled up the length of your body, the witch trailed her fingertips along your thigh, and up your torso to your face. Curling a graceful finger under your chin, she tilted your face upwards until you made eye contact.

“You are stunning, lyubov moya. There is no one else I would want to be here with right now. Not in the entire multiverse, believe me, I’ve looked. No one but you. Can you trust me on that, Y/N?”

Green eyes searched Y/E/C for any sign of lingering insecurity. With the witch looking at you so earnestly, your doubts faded into the background. They would likely never be completely silent, but in this moment, those thoughts were just white noise. Speaking was currently too difficult for you so instead you simply nodded at her words.

No longer able to hear your uncertainty as loudly, Wanda felt you were ready to continue. “Good, but just to make sure, I’m going to show you.”

Before you could ask what she meant, Wanda kissed you again. Her hand, which was previously under your chin, caressed down your chest and cupped your breast. She gave it a gentle squeeze, causing a soft sound to escape your throat.

As Wanda's touch re-ignited the flicker of pleasure within you, her lips and tongue traced a path of heated kisses down your neck, leaving a hot trail of saliva behind. Her skilled hand continued to explore your body, evoking an oeuvre of gasps and moans. Eventually, her lips settled on one of the places you desired the most, enveloping your nipple.

Once Wanda's lips closed around your hardened bud, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. Her tongue teased and circled the sensitive bud, sending ecstasy pulsating through your veins. While Wanda continued to lavish attention on your aching nipple, her other hand trailed down your body, caressing and exploring every inch of your skin. The combination of her skilled touch and the intense pleasure coursing through your body made it difficult to think or focus on anything else.

Her hand continued its exploration, gliding over your skin with a feather-light touch. Every brush of her fingertips, each flick of her tongue against you sent your arousal to new heights. Your senses were completely consumed by her, the world around you fading once again into a distant blur.

Completely at Wanda's mercy, you found yourself basking in her every touch and caress. The pleasure she was bestowing upon you was the best high you had ever felt, addictive and irresistible. Your mind was filled with a primal need, a craving for more of the pleasure that only she could provide.

Wanda switched breasts, moving to lavish attention on the other one ensuring it didn't feel neglected. Her hand continued to tease your flesh, raising goosebumps to form on your skin.

Unable to sit still, your own hands came up to tangle themselves in the redhead’s hair. Head held firmly in place by you, Wanda's hand slid lower, exploring the wetness that had pooled between your thighs. Svelte fingers teased your entrance, and you gasped as the anticipation nearly undid you. Back arched, begging for more, you whispered a “please!”

Helpless to deny your plea, Wanda's fingers dipped inside you, your slick allowing them to slide in with ease. You moaned lowly as she began to move her fingers in a slow, deliberate rhythm, curling and stroking against your most sensitive spots. The pleasure built within you, radiating through your body like an electric current.

Your hands tightened in her hair, pulling her closer to you as your hips instinctively rocked against her hand, seeking deeper pleasure. Wanda matched your movements, her pace increasing, driving you closer to the edge. Her lips found yours once again, swallowing your moans as the pleasure consumed you.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the wet, almost obscene sound of her fingers moving inside you, and the symphony of your pleasure. Each stroke of her fingers sent you spiraling further into this rapturous euphoria, your body trembling with desire.

Lost in the carnality of the moment, you could feel the heat building within you, the pressure mounting until you were teetering on the edge. Sensing your imminent release, Wanda's fingers quickened their pace, driving you towards oblivion. Moans growing louder, they mingled with the sound of your ragged breaths.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” She asked, voice dripping sweetly with lust, not letting up the pace even a little. The woman knew what she was doing to you, and couldn’t resist drawing it out just a bit.

Beneath her, you squirmed and bucked in place, desperation eeking off you in waves. You hadn’t exactly had many partners to begin with, and you had certainly never been especially vocal with any of them. Wanda couldn't have you being all shy on her now though. She wanted to hear each and every sound she could possibly draw out of you as proof of how good she was making you feel, her fingers hitting that special spot deep inside of you that had always been just out of your own reach.

“Now dorogaya, use your words. Are you going to be a good girl and come for me? If you can’t answer me then I guess I should stop.” Wanda slowed her pace and you all but wailed your frustration.

“Yes, yes I’m going to come. I’m so close, Wands, please don’t stop!”

Truthfully that should have been enough for her but sadistically she wanted to push your boundaries further still. She smirked at your pleas.

“I won’t stop, Y/N, but you can’t come until I give you permission.”

You didn’t think you had ever been on such a precipice of euphoria before. It was right there if only Wanda would let you. Part of you wanted to ignore what she said and let yourself go, but the part of you that yearned to be good for her won out in the end.

You begged pitifully. “Please Wanda, please let me come! I’ll be your good girl, please, just let me come!” You would say anything the woman wanted as long as she would let you finally finish.

It was positively sinful how your submission made Wanda feel. She wanted to experience you like this every day for the rest of your lives. The tremor of your voice as you begged, how quickly and completely you accepted her commands, it was positively sublime.

“Well when you beg so prettily for me, how can I resist? Be a good girl, Y/N - come for me.” Her fingers curled deliciously, mercilessly hitting your new favorite spot.

With Wanda’s permission, the world shattered around you as your orgasm crashed over. Your body convulsed with exquisite hedonism, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Wanda's name were the only words from your mouth as you rode the high, your orgasm careening over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

For Wanda, feeling your wet heat tighten around her fingers, practically refusing to allow her to pull back to even help you through your peak, was so perfect. You didn’t know it, but it was enough to make Wanda topple over the edge alongside you, her head dropping to the crook of your neck while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear, struggling to bring you gently down from your high.

As the aftershocks of your release subsided, Wanda gently withdrew her fingers, her touch lingering for a moment before she pressed a soft kiss to your lips. She held you close, her presence a comforting anchor as you came down from the heights of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness after being so joyously full.

Breathless and sated, you nestled into her embrace, feeling a profound sense of contentment and connection. And as you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt that this was just the beginning of something beautiful between you both. You had made the decision to trust Wanda with your body, heart, and soul, and in this moment, everything felt so right.

Wanting to return the favor, and make Wanda feel as good as you did, but as you tried to shift in her embrace, the former avenger simply held you tighter. Feeling rejected, you wilted in her arms. Perhaps you had already failed to live up to her expectations, so much so that she didn’t even want you to touch her. How heartbreaking to have failed so soon, to never get the chance to prove yourself.

Voice soft, Wanda alleviates your fears. “Not tonight, darling. Tonight was all about you. Rest with me for a little while, detka, I just want to hold you. May I do that, Y/N?”

Murmuring a quiet assent, you settled into the comfort Wanda provided. You both laid there, basking in the intimacy you both had just shared, feeling content and happy. It wasn’t long until your eyes began to droop, signifying you were about to nod off.

Sensing how close you were to sleep, the witch gently roused you. She giggled at your grumblings for the disruption but insisted you both needed to clean up. Shaking your head, you whined as you tried to hold her in place with you, unwilling to let her go for any reason. Wanda had to actively restrain herself from cooing at your adorable stubbornness.

“Come on now, it’ll be just a few minutes and then we can go back to sleep, okay darling?”

Petulantly you shook your head, and Wanda full on belly laughed, holding you tightly to her while she did so. Her laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well, knowing you were being a bit ridiculous.

Eventually, both of you calmed down, and Wanda pulled away from your embrace, mentioning that she would be right back. You let her go, but you pouted the entire time she was in the bathroom. After a few moments, you could hear the sink running, and then the witch returned to you with a warm, damp washcloth in her hand. With an unprecedented level of care, Wanda cleaned between your legs, removing any trace of the night's activities, while being mindful not to overstimulate you.

“There we go, detka. All clean. Let me just throw this in the sink, and we can go to sleep.”

Doing exactly as she had said, Wanda quickly returned, swiftly maneuvering her way into the cozy bed beside you. With a few gentle movements, she skillfully arranged the soft sheets to envelop both of you, creating a warm and comfortable cocoon.

Once she was finished setting up the sheets, you wasted no time in crawling back into her arms, burying your face into the divot where her neck and shoulder met. You felt like you had been through the wringer, but in the best way. When she had gotten up to clean you both, with her no longer being in your arms, your emotions had run all over the place. Now all you wanted was to be as physically close to the redhead as possible, to reassure yourself that she wasn’t abandoning you after such a vulnerable act.

Wanda was not at all opposed. Quite thrilled in fact, and as she held you, one hand came to gingerly trace random shapes along the side of your face, whispering nonsensical words of love and solace. Pillowy lips placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, feeling safer and happier than in your entire life, you heard Wanda whisper in her native tongue. You were curious, but too far gone to ask her what she meant.

“я так люблю тебя, дорогая. (I love you so much, darling.) I promise I will always keep you safe, and I will never let you go.”

A/N 2: ... Why do I have a higher word count for a chapter with smut than any other chapter? .... Reasons. We're going with "reasons". So uhhh... yay? nay? Yeet myself off a cliff? Also if anyone wants to be added to the taglist just lemme know in the comments.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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nosesitter · 1 year ago

Text

Boss!Joel Miller

3.3k words

boss!joel you’re out on the town, looking slutty, 6 vodka crans in, your tits are practically out, walking all sloppy, talking very loud and who do you run into? Your very hot boss Joel who’s only ever seen you in business attire.

a/n: I think I have a thing for having sex in trucks this is second time I’ve written about that. I love some mean Joel love me some mean men that I can make cum and then they start acting right. Going to be writing part 3 of helpful Joel miller just need to think some more. Pls interact, reblog, comment and tell me what you think I love feedback!!

⚠️: mean!joel, name calling(baby,slut,whore), reader is drunk as a skunk, alcohol consumption, public semi voyeur, p in v, spanking with a belt!!, choking, finger sucking, sex in a truck, Joel has a truck that has those blinding headlights, thick dick Joel, SMALL cum play, m!receiving oral, swallowing cum

As the seconds slowly count down to 4 o’clock you’re sitting at your desk thinking about how you’re going to lie to your boss so you can leave work early, it’s your friends birthday and you just want to go home get ready and pregame. It’s not a problem for you to lie, but to Joel? Nah, something about your boss makes it extremely hard, seeing him just makes you want to tell the truth, get on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. Your boss, Joel Miller, is extremely attractive, always wearing the tightest button down shirts to show off his broad shoulders and sculpted muscles in his arms. It’s very contradicting whenever you walk into his office and he’s just man spreading, yelling questions about the assignments he’s given you. Slacks bunching around his thighs you just wanna lay over his lap and have him spank you until your skin is blistering red, begging him to stop.

As you’re sitting there, 5 minutes into the new hour, trying to think of lies and finishing up the latest project that Mr. Miller has given you your office phone rings without having to look at the caller ID you know it’s your boss. “Yes sir?”

“Come into my office we have to talk about your recent turn in.” The last assignment you’ve turned into him was about 30 pages long and contained all his business contacts organized by the most recent ones he’s worked with. You tried to organize it more better but Joel was on vacation so you used your best judgement with handling it but sounds like it was wrong.

As you walk to his office you stop by a big glass window. You can see your reflection and take this time to straighten yourself out. A lot of the other ladies in the department you worked in wore very low cut blouses and tight pencil skirts. You just wear an all black blouse, slacks, and cardigan. He has made comments about the way you dress, especially here in Texas he almost expected you to show skin around the office just like the others but they do that for his attention. You already have his attention unbeknownst to you.

“Just come in!” He bellows out from the other side of the door. You push the door open and there he is sitting behind his desk for a change while a younger looking man stands next to him. “Please take a seat.” He says through gritted teeth, he seems upset. The younger one begins to talk.

“My names Tommy, I’m Joel’s younger brother. We were just going over the assignment I gave Joel last week and looks like it wasn’t done by Joel it was done by you.” Tommy says coming over to sit right next to you. Everyone in the office knows Joel slacks off, but turns out his brother and superior didn’t know about that. Your gaze shifts to the older Mr. Miller and he’s just rolling his eyes at his brothers choice of words.

“It was fantastic! I absolutely loved how you set it up and so did a lot of people higher than me.” He tells you happily causing the anxiety in your stomach to settle and your shoulders to relax as you soak in the compliment from the younger nicer brother. He leans forward and sets his hand on your thigh.

“We’d love to get you up here in your own office, working right alongside Joel and I.” His brother is also very attractive but he doesn’t have that ruggedness and frightening edge like Joel. Tommy’s thumb is rubbing small circles into the side of your thigh. Joel notices this.

“We can get you moved in right now-“ The older one begins talking again but you cut him off. He also notices that.

“My grandma needs me to help get her from the hospital-“ you stand from your seat and try to distance yourself from the angry looking older brother.

“Please go, I’m pretty sure we can get someone to help Joel move your things into the office next door.” Tommy is very nice, handsy, but nice nonetheless. You begin to excuse yourself from the room but not before looking back at Mr. Miller who waves you off angrily from behind his happier younger brother.

——

It’s 9 o’clock by the time you finish getting ready. Knocking out some errands beforehand so you’ve had time to relax before getting absolutely hammered. You’ve decided on some tight black pants and a black lace corset. Definitely a change from your normal clothes but you’re celebrating so you can look slutty for the night.

Grabbing your wallet and phone you head out to the Uber you’ve ordered and head over to the strip of night clubs near your apartment. When you get there you can see all your friends at the first club on the block. With that y’all start the night off.

——

It’s 30 minutes after midnight and half of your friends have gone home. It’s just you, the birthday girl, and her friend. They keep talking about wanting to go home but you’re at that point where you could have another drink but you know it’ll be a bad idea but it sounds so fun.

“I’m going to another club!” You’re slurring your words so drunk you can’t even think about anything else. As you’re stumbling to the next club you hear your name being shouted probably your friends yelling for you. You show the bouncer your ID and once again your name is being called from outside. Ignoring it you head right in and straight to the bar

“Vodka cran!” You yell to the bartender and he goes right to making the drink. As you’re standing there waiting for the drink an arm comes around your waist. You follow the hand to the body and it’s Mr. Joel Miller. You stand there for a moment and just stare at him. He’s wearing a silk shirt the first three buttons undone, gold necklaces sitting so pretty on his neck god damn he looks fucking good. No one breaks eye contact as the bartender puts the drink in front of you along with the bill. Joel sets his debit card right on the counter then leans forward, his beard scratching the side of your cheek, lips right on your ear. It feels wrong but it sends electricity through your body. You’ve been caught by him.

“How’s grandma?” You can hear the condescending tone in his voice. He’s enjoying seeing you act dumbfounded by his appearance here. You grab your drink and just walk past him heading to the patio best believe he’s following behind. Feeling the cold night air hit your face to take a breath and a big sip of your drink to regain the drunk confidence you desperately need to get through this.

“This definitely looks bad and I’m sor-“ He’s not paying attention to anything you’re saying but instead staring you down with intense sexual hunger. All those times he’s yelled and put the fear of god into you for not getting work done faster fades away as he sees your nipples poking from behind the lace of your top.

“You should wear stuff like this at work, I’d be in your new office everyday baby.” His fingers reaching out to touch the lace that’s stuck to your chest. He knows what he’s saying and doing is highly inappropriate and you could definitely get him fired for this but you have to admit the attention sends a lighting bolt of feelings to your core causing you to clench around nothing. You take another big sip of your drink.

“You man spreading while yelling at me is inappropriate, how can you scold me and not expect me to feel turned on seeing you like that.” People walking all around pushing the both of y’all closer together. His right hand moves forward to grab your waist. His touch causing goosebumps to rise of your skin from excitement, brown eyes blown out with lust he can’t keep his eyes off your chest. He takes the nearly drink from your hand and finishes it off, he sets it to the side and leads you closer to the speakers, you can feel the bass in your chest and your tongue in your throat as Joel takes your hand with his big one. The both of you facing each other standing near the back under red flashing lights. He guides your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his damp neck hair.

One of his hands searching for your bare skin, the spot between your corset and band of your pants, you feel extremely hot he can definitely feel the heat radiating off your body as his other hand moves down from the strap on your shoulder and over the curve of your fleshy breast poking out of the lace cup. You can feel yourself clench around nothing again the feeling you have in your clit is numbing. You want nothing but his big tanned hand on you rubbing circles while his salt and pepper beard scratches your neck.

The music is so loud it’s deafening only focusing on each others wondering hands. A bold feeling probably from the alcohol comes hurling up from you, causing you to pull yourself into Joel’s lips. There’s no hesitation from Joel whatsoever he welcomes your cranberry stained lips and vodka flavored tongue into his mouth. Both his hands sneak into the band of your pants and over the curve of your ass brushing past your thong his hands so greedy for skin to skin contact he just wants to bruise your skin, hot flesh spilling through the gaps in his fingers as he kneads your ass. Pressing yourself onto him you can feel his erection stop against your zipper. He feels extremely thick you couldn’t imagine him inside of you.

You break away from his mouth and attach your lips to his neck, salty from sweat you couldn’t care less. You can feel the vibrations in his neck from him groaning, it makes you excited and you immediately want to hear more. Grabbing his hand again you head to the exit door that leads out into an alley. The cold air hits your skin and you catch your breath but not for long as Joel pulls you out the alley and down the street into a parking garage.

He skips the elevator and pushes the emergency stairs door open and leans back against it to stop anyone else from opening it. Joel’s hands go straight for his belt pulling the buckle off then pulls the whole thing out from the loops with one forceful pull.

“Pull your pants down and put your hands on the rail.” There’s no doubt you’re wet. You can feel yourself spill over the small surface of your thong and onto your thighs it’s all too much and he hasn’t even began to touch you fully. You comply without a second thought pulling your pants down under your thighs. Joel hissed at the sight before him he leans forward from the door and walks closer to pull at the top of your thong causing the strap to snap back onto you. His hand coming down and grabbing your ass, jiggling the skin with the contact. He had you so relaxed with his touch that you almost forgot about the belt in his hand. Until he spanked you with it. The sound of leather on skin makes an echo all through the stairwell. A soundless scream leaving your lips it brings you back to reality. Brings you back to your dick boss with his hands on you leaving welts on your skin in a public place.

“I’d rather have you over my lap but that can wait till next time, sweetheart.” He grabs your pants and pulls them back up for you then motions for you to start walking. As you walk out of the stairwell and into the more public eye Joel digs in his pocket for his key and points it at his truck. The bright lights come on causing to to turn your head and shield your eyes. Before you can touch the door handle Joel sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your neck turning the both of y’all around.

“Let’s not waste any time, get in the backseat with me baby.” He pulls you back onto him and his hard cock then opens the back passenger door no one can see what you’re doing but they can definitely see the pairs of feet standing over each other under the door. His right hand going to your neck making your head fall back onto his shoulder. Left hand is heading for your screaming core. Your clit begging for his rough fingers to rub circles into it.

“Fucking slut, look a’cha dripping for me?” He’s so damn cocky, having you in a position like this and still being so mean. His middle finger moving from your clit to dip down and gather more of your wetness. He growls into your neck as his two middle fingers push into you causing you to moan out and clench around him. Joel moves his hand from your neck to your lips shoving his middle finger into your mouth making you suck it. Tongue swinging around the digit. His two fingers curving up into the squishy part of you, so much stimulation at one time you squeeze your thighs together feeling his hand squish in between them.

Both of his hands rip away from your body and push you up into his backseat, your body falls backward onto the seat he uses this to take your pants off tossing them behind you and then climbing into the truck. He slams the door and squeezes past you his hands going quick for his zipper. As you’re sitting up you look at his cock that he’s pulled out already, so girthy, looking at it sobers you up a little. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes hooded as his hand strokes himself. Pulling his hand away he opens the palm and spits right into it not breaking eye contact with you.

“C’mon baby, hop on.” He looks intoxicating like this, so desperate looking begging for you to be wrapped around him. Swinging your leg over his lap and lowering over him he holds himself steady as you sink onto him. You look at his face as you lower but he’s looking at your hungry cunt stretch over him making his cock disappear into you. Your clit makes contact with the patch of black and gray pubic hair and it makes your sensitive clit tingle. You can hear his legs unstick from the leathery seats as he lowers down to hammer into you. Bracing for the beating your pussy is about to get you grab his shoulder and the handle above the door.

“Princess too good to bounce on my cock, havin’ me do all the work.” His accent so thick he’s staring to slur his words together. His hand slaps your ass as he stops moving and just lays there.

“Ride me don’t make me ask again I won’t be nice.” You don’t dare disobey him you need to cum you lay back onto the drivers seat and move your hips in slow motions, he’s buried deep inside of you the tip of his cock hitting deep squishy areas and the girth of him stretching you so nicely. It’s steaming inside his truck precipitation all over the windows, every once and a while a car passing by shining their headlights into the truck no doubt seeing what’s going on even shielded behind the drivers seat.

Joel’s hands pulling the cups of your top down ripping the lace in the process. His fingers pinching and pulling your nipples. This causes you to clench around him. A intense chilling sensation ripping right through your lower abdomen.

“Oh shit my cock poking through stomach .” Joels a mumbling mess he can’t even make coherent sentences with you clenching so hard around him. His warm hand goes flat above your pubic bone as he presses on himself with your organs. You lean forward, hands going to his cheeks and lips smashing into his, and begin to use his cock for your own pleasure. The truck is shaking no doubt, people walking past drunkly to their cars cheering as they see steam covered windows and your loud moans coming from the vehicle.

Your thighs are shaking as you bounce on him moaning through the pain as your knees begin to buckle your hands grabbing his hair and pulling it in different directions. “I’ma cum inside you!” He’s loud, breathy and moaning his words into your skin. You can feel him gush inside of you feeling him coat your insides with his seed. It happened so hard you can taste the feeling of his spent in your throat. Bodies sticking to each other, you’re dripping wet causing his leg hair to stick and mat against his thighs. He leans forward and grabs a water bottle from the middle console behind you.

You lift yourself from his lap and wince as he falls out of you. Sitting right next to him you can feel the mixture of each others cum dripping out of you. “Not on my leather seats, whore.” Joel says and moves his hands over to slip a finger inside of you pushing the combination of spent back into you. His finger having no effect on your stretched walls the way his dick did. You see his limp dick twitch a little in his lap and decide to give it a kiss. Opening your mouth and giving the tip an open mouth kiss you can taste the tang of the both of y’all on your tongue. Joel gives you a little groan as you mouth lowers over him cleaning his cock off. He twitches inside your mouth as he hardens again. His body so sensitive to his release that he begins to clench his thighs and jerk his cock deeper into your mouth.

P-please, baby stop ill cum again I know it.” You decide to push him to his limit after all those times of him giving you stupid work that was his all along you keep sucking hallowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his shaft. It’s not long before his hand presses on the back of your head and he’s sputtering what little he had left into your mouth. He’s gasping now, immediately soft in your mouth you pop off and swallow what’s in your mouth.

“When you come in Monday morning I’m bending you over my desk and eating you out.” You sit there proud with yourself and your actions and for once excited to go into work.

————🥴🤭😈

reblog, like, and validate me🫶🏻

0711

#joel miller smut #dark joel miller #mean!joel miller #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #joel x female reader

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miraclecherryblossomsblog · 2 months ago

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"Protect what you regret"

I actually had this idea reinforced by my brain when it kept telling me mean stuff (one of those weeks u know :/ )

tw mental breakdown, anxiety, wukong being wukong, angst to happy ending, devotion, pls dont expect it to be good ok, idk shi about story telling but i'll do my best here, shits long again

This would be one of the breaking points for Ane, being stressed about having to adapt in a fictional world with no logical sense, survive the millions of fucking yaoguai's who only see her as a easy snack and dealing with a rude ass monkey that had the ego bigger than a mountain (hehe)

That and missing her family, feeling the more they go into this path the more fruitless it becomes for her. Would she even make it to the final point of their travel or die in the hands of monsters

Her anxiety was getting her to the point she couldn't sleep, dreams of past encounters would jump back into her memory and torment her.

Wukong starts to take notice of how much quiet she has become, note that in this point of the story Wukong considers Ane a friend he can annoy and tease in the asshole way (not romance yet)

So he goes and does what he does best, annoy her until she tells him what's up with her, however.....the way that he approached the situation althought it did get her to spill the beans it happen in way that was.... he kinda disregarded her feelings a bit and well

It didn't go well. His name calling made her lose it and she screamed her frustrations at him, insulting him in both her languages, not letting him even speak as she screamed her anger at him

This was new to him, usually she would just get cranky at him which would just amuse him, finding her distress funny but she would later just let it go (not really she just would shut up about it, she tends to hold grudge but she knew she couldn't afford to so she just left it there)

She was so done with his bullshit that she couldn't care less whether her words hurted him, the most shocking part was when even after he tried to dismiss her words she didn't hesitate.

That's right folks the monke got slapped.

It didn't hurt him ofc but the shock was too big. His eyes wide doing nothing as she continued screaming at him, daring him to hit her, telling him she couldn't care less if she killed her in the spot. Here sandy was already prepping himself in case wukong DID act up but... he didn't.

Her eyes were probably the most hurtful part for wukong because for once he really noticed the emotion in them...Anger, fear, sadness, he could see them all around her irises, her body language, her words.

Even after she stomped away as he could only watch, once he got over his shock his brows furrowed, his fist clenched and the ground shaked, letting a loud growl he jumped away not hearing the rest of the crew call to him as he flew with his cloud away.

Sandy looked for Ane while pigsy stayed with the monk, Tang watching in worry as not one but two of his disciples went off their ways.

It was that time away when Wukong started to recall the fight she had with her and started to reflect on himself and ironically it was Ane's anger that started to make him realize his feelings for her, it was her trying to avoid him after the fight that it made him want her closure, to complain to him, to look at him again....to please make those eyes that hold in her soul to look at him and forgive him

Its when the romance started, him trying everything to prove to her that he can be better, that he can change if she lets him in into her heart, he will beg if he must

He promises that she'll never have to feel fear again as he'll be her protector, promising her that if ever any of her hair strands is even touched he will burn down everything for her. To please smile at him again for not he would feel his heart crumble

It took Ane longer to figure out her own feelings and let her wall crumble but hey it worked didn't it <33

#self insert #self ship #sun wukong #wukong x self insert #monkey king #journey to the west #jttw #fic?#ane #author #actuall fucking fic and not headcanons??????????? more than u think

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theitgirlnetwork · 10 months ago

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Better

Ch. 14: Happy Birthday Charlotte Pt. 1

Lip's Supportive Husband Outfit

Charlotte's Bday Fit

Hm...wonder what this is...

Note: Hiii, as I said I didn't take as long as last time; next post should be this week because this is a two-parter. For that same reason she's a lil short. I am so thankful for all of the love, interaction and the warm welcome back. I am very grateful and I appreciate you all so much. I hope you enjoy this chapter of watching our babies work their way back, celebrate a big day, and grow as a couple. A big change is coming. Also there's sexual content in this one so feel free to skip that portion and ask me any questions about what nonsexual information happened during it for clarification. This symbol: * indicates the beginning and end of that section. Thank you so much again, and feel free to interact, I love hearing thoughts from you guys! (Constructively, pls I'm sensitive lol) :)

Warnings: Explicit Content (MDNI FR I'm not playing), sexual content, strong language, anxiety

“So what’re you gonna say?”

Lip shrugs lightly as his blue eyes follow his thumb’s travels along Charlotte’s neck, lips parting with wonder as he drinks in the glow on her skin from the morning light seeping in, big brown eyes offering him warmth and adoration that he can’t get from anywhere else. “That I uh…won’t actually knock his head off.”

Charlotte purses her lips in thought, resting her hand over his, leaning into him. “Okay, that’s good-”

“As long as he stays the fuck away from my wife.” he finishes, reaching under the blankets and dragging her leg over his body. “That’s you by the way.”

“Is it?” she hums, climbing over him fully before nudging his nose with her own. “We sure?”

“Yeah,” he sighs against her lips before finally closing the space between them. “‘M pretty fuckin’ sure.”

“Good.”

The last few days have been rough. Threats of breaking up left some lingering weariness and anger between the couple. Lip was apologetic but still prideful, Charlotte was forgiving but still withholding. They were nursing wounds together. And it’s working. Their joint solution was simple. They need to be together. Everything else was secondary. Whatever they needed to do to make this work, it’s exactly what they’re going to do. So stay in the room together, deal with family later. They’d basically ghosted her parents. Call out of work for a couple days. Focus on being Phillip and Charlotte. Together.

Lip was tiptoeing. Scared to bring anything up that could dismantle what they were managing to rebuild. But her dad’s words, lingering thoughts of sickness plague him as he holds her in his arms at night. Suddenly, every shiver, every sniffle, every groan as she rolls over in the middle of night makes his heart fall to his ass. But he can’t rock the boat. Not yet. He just needs to…work for it. Get to a point where she trusts him enough to tell him. He can wait.

Charlotte gasps into the air as Lip rolls her underneath him, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck. Her fingers dig into his golden curls, her legs closing around his waist as she pushes up to be pressed against him. “Phillip, you’re gonna be late-”

“‘M’not, don’t worry about it.”

The woman whimpers as large hands slip down her hips, fingers hooking into her underwear, yelping a little when she’s yanked upward roughly so the fabric can be tugged down her legs. “It’s…already 8:10…it’s-”

“Hey,” Lip calls sternly, one hand going back to her face, grabbing her jaw tightly enough to force her eyes to his, the other continuing its journey between her legs. “You want me to make you feel good, Bunny?”

“Y-yes-”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Phillip, I want you to make me feel good.”

“Know you do,” he hums, patronizingly pushing his thumb into the dimple on her cheek. “So lay back, and let me.” Lip finishes with a searing kiss on her lips before dragging his way down her body, pushing one hand underneath her shirt, massaging her breast as he uses his shoulders to nudge her legs completely apart.

As Charlotte feels his mouth against her she panics, the cry she lets out is muffled by her hand flailing out, grabbing a pillow and putting it over her face.

Lip licks a solid strip up her slit before pressing several kisses against her clit, slowing when his ears aren’t picking up the cries he lives for, confused considering he could feel her legs shaking by his head. His eyes trail up to find Charlotte smothering herself in effort to stifle her sounds and he’s immediately annoyed, hand coming down to slap her thigh. “Hey. Uh uh, fix that.”

A whine fills the air and he chuckles as he feels the soft pillow come down on his head before falling to the floor. “Don’t wanna be loud-”

“You know better.” he laughs, tugging her further down the bed and bringing her closer to his mouth, moaning himself at her sweet taste.

Charlotte’s fingers flex as she grips at nothing, whimpering as he doubles his administrations, the pressure building even more now that piercing blue eyes are trained on her. “Fu-fuckin’ help me.”

Lip’s eyes roll before he reaches up, grabbing her wrist and guiding her hands down to his hair, encouraging her to tug at it and groaning against her when she does. “Taste so fuckin’ good. Fuckin’ perfect. You’re just fuckin’ perfect aren’t you?”

“Oh, fuck, Phillip-”

“Watch your mouth.” he grunts, slapping her thigh again. “You’re perfect. Say it, baby.”

“M’not perfect. I love you-”

“S’not what I told you to say-” he growls, pulling away and fixing her with a warning look, lips and chin glistening. Charlotte huffs, tugging his hair again, moaning louder as her toes flex.

“‘M’gonna cum, I want you to fuck me-”

“Say you’re perfect and I will.” Lip pulls away from her fully, untwining her fingers from his hair and watching her grow more frustrated, reaching for him to no avail. He climbs over her then, hovering over her as he runs his thumb over her bottom lip, guiding her mouth open, dipping his finger in before gathering some spit into his mouth and spitting it into hers, groaning when she swallows it obediently. “Charlotte.”

“I’m perfect. I love you. Please fuck me.”

Lip settles then, leaning his weight down onto her, groaning as he pushes into her, letting his head fall next to hers, pressing his mouth close to her ear. “You’re perfect, baby. My fuckin’...I fuckin’ live for you. I love you…happy birthday.”

The couple sets a steady rhythm then, one that they’ve grown used to over their time together but something about this time was different. The touches felt more desperate and needy. They both noticed it, but didn’t want to break the bubble they created by addressing it. But they could tell. Charlotte wraps her arms around him that much tighter, hand cupping the back of his head, legs locked around his waist in a vice, she arches to make sure she’s pressed against him as much as their movements will allow.

Lip is the same, one arm around her waist to hold her close, switching between being in her ear, groaning every bit of filth, every promise, every praise he can think of, and resting his forehead against hers, demanding she look at him, maintaining eye contact to remind himself its her. She’s here, and he’s with her again.

“I…I’m…Phillip-”

“Go ahead, baby. Cum for me, Bunny. Cum on my dick, baby.”

Charlotte bites down on his shoulder as she cums, curling into him and crying out. Lip moans as she contracts around him, keeping his thrusts steady until he feels two wet drops on his skin. He nudges her back onto the pillows to look at her face, slowing to a stop when he finds her with large, watery eyes. “I’m…I love you, Bubba.”

Fuck.

That’s all he can think. That’s all he feels. For multiple reasons. The first is the embarrassing fact that he somehow got impossibly harder from the knowledge that the woman underneath him just came around him, crying from how much she loves him. The second the humiliating fact that he was blinking back the moisture from his own eyes because even though he’s never been the religious type, he’s finding himself thanking whoever is running shit upstairs for making sure 20 years ago today, Victor and Cynthia Fisher fucked and made this fucking angel for him. And the third being the realization that Ian was right. He didn’t doubt him, but with everything that happened, it was clear. He’ll never be in love with anyone else. If he doesn’t keep Charlotte, he’ll never have another chance. She’s it.

He’s shaken from his thoughts with a soft hand on his cheek. “I’m okay, baby. Keep going. I’m okay.”

Lip nods absently, brows softened, jaw clenched as he tries to keep the flood of emotions in. Resting his forehead against hers as he thrusts into her deeply, moaning softly.

“C’mon, Phillip, I love you, I want you to feel good too. I want you to cum too.” Charlotte whispers, running her fingers through his hair, tightening her legs around him, rolling up to meet him. “I want you to cum in me…I want you to give me your baby.”

That’s…a new development.

And fuck everything else Lip was embarrassed to admit to himself before.

Nothing can top how absolutely ashamed he is at how hard he came to that statement.

Who the fuck is he?

“‘Okay, bye, baby.” Lip pats Charlotte’s ass as he kisses her before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Uh, be ready when I get home, alright? Happy birthday, princess.”

“‘Kay.” Charlotte chirps, bouncing on the balls of her feet, offering him a bright smile as he heads out. The wooden door slides shut and immediately she’s screaming, running over to the couch and tossing herself onto it. “I want to have your baby?! What the fuck? Charlotte you’re so fuckin’ stupid!” she whines.

In her anxiety induced wailing, she doesn’t hear V and Fiona coming in the back door, cases of beer and boxed wine tucked under their arms. The two older women exchange concerned looks before slowly approaching the thrashing girl. “It’s like this every other day, hey! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I ruined my life!” Charlotte screams, kicking one of the pillows off of the couch.

“Okay…” Fiona sighs, grabbing a beer for herself and V, passing it over Charlotte’s head. “Scoot. What happened?”

Charlotte looks up at Fiona and then over to V and shakes her head. “Can’t tell you. You’ll…like…throw up or something and she’s gonna hit me.”

“I’m not gonna throw up and I doubt V will hit you-”

“Might.” the older cousin shrugs, lifting her little cousin’s legs and plopping them onto her lap as she sits on the couch. Fiona fixes her with wide eyes and V huffs. “I won’t hit you. Probably.”

Charlotte narrows her eyes skeptically, but sits up nonetheless. It’s not like she would be any less embarrassed telling anyone else. “Well, this morning, Phillip and I were…uh…”

“Fucking?”

“Oh, god.” Fiona flinches, shaking her head in disgust.

“It’s my birthday!”

“Oh yuck-”

“So what?” V asks, pushing the girl’s hair out of her face. “Was it bad?”

“No.” Charlotte murmurs, wrapping her arms around herself, pouting a little. “It was…good. But, I got caught up in the moment and…said something.”

“Something? If you were screwing, I’m pretty sure my brother would like whatever you said as long as it wasn’t another man’s name. And even then he might tolerate it.”

“Is that what you did?” V says around her beer bottle, taking a swig. “Call him some guys name? Daddy? Bitch? Slu-”

“I told him I wanted him to give me his baby.” Charlotte blurts, dropping her face to her knees in embarrassment.

Both older women immediately panic, Fiona tossing question after question at Charlotte. All of which were some variation of ‘are you pregnant’ and ‘are you using protection’. V takes the initiative of shooting off of the couch and flinging open the door to Charlotte and Lips’ room, yanking open the doors until she finds Charlotte’s birth control pills and starts counting, sighing in relief when she sees the girl is on track. “I’m not actually trying to get pregnant, I…just said it, it was a spur of the moment type of thing, it just slipped out!”

“Girl, it better be.” V breathes heavily. “You just turned 20 today, you still don’t eat the crust on sandwiches, do not get pregnant, understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” V sighs, running a hand over her face and watching Fiona flop back against the couch. “Now that that’s over…let’s go to breakfast for your birthday.”

“Fuckin’ shit.”

Lip’s pissed. Like more than usual. He huffs to himself as he flicks his half smoked cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Part of being with Charlotte meant trying to quit smoking, so he was trying to work on it. Apparently, part of being with her also meant being a dad?

He hadn’t even thought of that. Like…in theory, he fuckin’ loved the idea. He married her because he loves her and he wanted them to be a family. That included his siblings. They were kind’ve his kids and by association, hers. Does it make him happy to watch her play with Debbie? Help Carl with his homework? Bounce Liam on her hip? Abso-fuckin-lutely, she’s fuckin’ precious, he loves that shit.

Would it be fuckin’ sexy to see her have physical evidence that she belonged to him? Watching her waddle around with his kid, carrying something that;s exactly half him half her? Hot as hell.

But right now? They’re fuckin’ barely not absolutely broke right now. He’s been saving up for somethin’ big. A baby would throw all of that off. And he’s going to beg to keep his job. How can they raise a kid in these conditions? He’s still fuckin’ raising Frank and Monica’s. She hasn’t even told him about her having health conditions. Would that affect her getting pregnant? Would it affect a potential baby? He hopes she can wait. She has to. She will, right? Fuck.

He also is literally haunted by the last time he’d thought he was a dad. That was…fucking cruel to be honest. And Charlotte is definitely no Karen, but Lip doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. She’ll…she’ll wait. She loves him. She’ll wait.

The man straightens, pushing open the doors to the large office building, nodding to the security guard before getting in the elevator, taking it to his floor. Gritting his teeth he prepares to see that fuckin’ prick again. Eric, the punk bitch who’s been sniffin’ behind Charlotte since he saw her picture. Peppy ass daddy’s boy who signs his paychecks. Jesus, he needed to get these thoughts out of his system before he reached his office.

Fuckin’ bitch. Pussy.

Lip sighs, shaking out his shoulders as he rounds the corner to Eric’s office. Alright, I’m done.

Limp dick, pussy chasin’, no life motherfucker.

Now. Now, I’m done.

Lip’s jaw muscle jumps as he pushes Eric’s office door open, trying to make this as quick and painless as he can for himself. “Hey man, I…uh, know things were tense the other night, but uh, I’m…not really gonna knock your head off.” He goes to turn out of the room and can’t help himself, peeking his head back in, addressing the desk chair facing away from him, “Unless you keep trying to hit on my wife. Back off. Uh, okay, gonna go back to work-”

“Mr. Gallagher.” a voice calls to him before he can leave the room. It’s deep, and sounds like it came from an older man. Lip stops in his tracks, brows furrowing as he re enters the room.

“Uh…yeah?”

The man turns in his chair, dramatically in a way that has Lip fighting not to roll his eyes and reveals himself to in fact be a sharply dressed, gray haired version of Eric.

“Eric Preston-Scottlyn. So you’re the intern who threatened my son?” the older man asks, pushing out of the seat and leaning against Eric’s desk, nodding toward another chair for Lip to take a seat. The blond quietly moves to the chair, staring up at the older man cautiously.

“Yeah. That was me.”

“I see.” the older man reaches back into the desk, grabbing a cigar and looking at Lip expectantly.

“Oh, fuck, sure.” Lip digs in his pocket, pulling out his lighter and offering it to the man. “Look, I uh, need this job. I just got married and I’ve got like, a hundred siblings I take care of. That shit with Eric was…it won’t happen again.”

“So long as my son doesn’t speak to your wife again.” the older man chuckles, blowing his smoke carelessly, ignoring Lip’s light cough. “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for Junior. Considering I’m promoting him.”

Lip swallows back his scoff as he rolls his tongue in his cheek. Nodding, he bites his tongue. Of course the spoiled little rich boy is getting promoted for the work Lip has been doing for him. “Fuckin’ good for Eric.”

“You’re happy for him?” the man asks in disbelief.

“Indifferent.”

The older man chuckles, blowing out more smoke. “Makes sense. You must be proud of where your work has gotten him.” he leans back, putting out the cigar in the ashtray and crossing his legs as he faces Lip again. Lip’s eyes widen slightly as he schools the rest of his expression, “Mr. Gallagher, I am not an idiot. I know my son’s capabilities. And I’ve noticed they miraculously increased the moment you were hired. My son needs to actually learn how to do something now, develop at least a few skills he can do without someone bolstering him. So he’ll need to learn under my close supervision.”

“Fuckin’ bullshit.” Lip blurts.

“Excuse me?”

Lip tries not to say it, he does, but his impulse control has always been some shit. “It’s fuckin’ bullshit, that Eric doesn’t know how to do shit and you fuckin’ know that I’ve been doing his goddamn work and he’s the one getting fuckin’ promoted-”

“So are you.”

Fuckin’- “What?”

Mr. Scottlyn claps his hands together. “You’re right. I know you’ve been doing his work. You’re capable, Mr. Gallagher. You’re quick and intelligent. Dedicated. So, I’m giving you Eric’s position, if you want it. Which I assume you do, considering your…socioeconomic position.”

Fuck you. But he’s right. This is amazing. “Okay…okay, cool. I’m-thanks.”

“You’re quite welcome. I have big expectations for you, Mr. Gallagher. You remind me of me when I was your age. Minus the obvious anger issues and baggage.”

“Uh…thanks again?”

“You’ll start tomorrow. Bright and early.” the older man grabs his cellphone off of his desk and pulls his suit jacket on. “Don’t embarrass me, Gallagher.”

And with that he leaves Lip alone…in his new office. Holy shit. Did something good just fuckin’ happen? He gets to keep his job…fuck that, he got promoted.

This new information makes a dangerous image flash into Lip’s mind, and he quickly shakes it away.

Huh. Today is full of new things.

Lip rolls his eyes as he jogs his way up the walkway of his house, seeing Frank approaching out of the corner of his eye. “Get the fuck away from me, Frank.”

“Is that any way to greet your father? We used to be so close, you and I, what has poisoned you, the fruit of my womb, against me?” his dad slurs, stumbling behind his eldest son, eyeing the bag in his hand.

“Fuckin’ christ.” Lip hisses, pushing the door open and trying to slam it behind him, only for Frank to slither his way in. “Don’t have time for your shit today.”

“I get it, I get it. You are a man now, you have responsibilities. Helping lead the house. Going to work. Making love to that delicious-”

“I’m serious, Frank, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

“Why are we killin’ Frank?” Ian asks as he makes his way into the room, taking a swig of a soda before flopping onto the couch. “Wifey’s across the street waitin’ on you. Don’t forget, tomorrow she’s with me.”

Frank’s brows furrow as he looks between his two sons. “No, I was pretty sure you were the gay one. Or is that Carl…?”

“Fuck off, Frank.”

“No respect.”

Lip tugs his work shirt off and starts shuffling through the pile of laundry Fiona had done to find something to change into. “I want her home in one piece, Ian, I’m fuckin’ serious. No drugs. Three drinks total. And no lettin’ Mickey pimp her out for free shit.”

“Okay, okay. Being married’s made you so fuckin’ serious.”

Lip just points his finger at his brother again before pulling on the shirt and sweater Charlotte had snuck and bought him for Christmas and pulling on a pair of jeans. The front door swings open and the sweet smell that follows his wife everywhere fills the room, so Lip immediately kicks the bag to the side behind the couch before taking in how she looks. “Baby, fuckin’ gorgeous. C’mere.”

Charlotte beams, her dress flouncing around her legs as she bounces her way into Lip’s open arms, meeting him in a deep kiss, humming when he pats her ass. “You look pretty too~” she sings.

“Ah, I know.” he scoffs, jokingly pushing her face from his as she squeezes his cheek. “Havin’ a good birthday? Yeah? Where the fuck is your jacket?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Fuck, you don’t,” he frowns, snatching his jacket from the pile of laundry and pushing her arms through the sleeves.

“Excuse me, kiddo, I know you’re a little distracted what with your wife’s womanly wiles, a struggle to which I deeply relate-”

“Frank-”

“Ew.” Charlotte mumbles, pulling her jacket tighter over herself.

“However, you all asked me to warn you next time CPS would be stopping by and I might have been indisposed recently because a brief stint because of a possession case, however, while I have been released, I believe there will be a surprise…visit…inspection for the welfare of the children, soon. And your welcome for warning you.”

Charlotte immediately whips her head to look at Lip, eyes wide with concern, she clutches the sleeves of his jacket. “Don’t worry, Bubba, we’ll fix it. I can start cleaning and you and Ian can start fixing stuff around the house, we’ll dip into some of the money and get extra groceries, and get the kids ready when they get home. I can text Fiona-”

“But…it’s your birthday.”

He doesn’t know if his heart swells or cracks when his wife shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, we have to take care of your family.”

You’re going to have to choose. I chose Cynthia. You can still choose your family.

Victor’s words flood Lip’s head as his eyes flick between Charlotte, the bag of stuff he got for her birthday on the floor and the mess of a house he and his siblings inhabit. He loves her so much. He wishes he wasn’t about to make her spend her 20th birthday preparing for a Child Protective Services visit. He wishes this wasn’t about to be her norm. He’s never not chosen them.

But Ian makes the choice for him.

“Nah, we got it.” the redhead shrugs, finishing the soda and pulling out his phone. “You guys go ahead, you can help later if there’s anything left for you to do. I’m gonna let everyone else know about Frank’s fuck up, and we’ll get this shit together. It’s not like they’re gonna come today. Wouldn’t be very random, then.”

Lip opens and closes his mouth, preparing to…thank him? Argue? He doesn’t know. But Ian doesn’t give him time. He picks up Lip’s bag and shoves it into his hands and starts pushing the couple toward the door.

Charlotte watches her husband out of the corner of her eye the entire bus ride. She was anxious to say the least. There are millions of thoughts flying around in her head, and she doesn’t know what to do with them. From her sex induced plea for a baby, to Lip’s meeting with his boss or his siblings possibly getting taken by CPS…again, she was a nervous wreck. And…also it's her birthday. And she keeps forgetting.

Breakfast with Fiona and V was great and she loved it. But she’d spent it in her head, wallowing about her slip of the tongue. After, she had something to look forward to, spending time with Lip when he got off work, he’d apparently planned a surprise for her. He wanted to be in charge of everything, down to her outfit. Last night he stood in front of her wardrobe looking clueless, grumbling to himself as he demanded that she stay in bed and ‘not look’ while he picks, finally settling on a dress that he’d given to V to tell her to wear later. But then she could only focus on how devastated he would be if he did lose his job. Or the hit his self-esteem would take if he had to beg Eric.

She hadn’t even realized how well he could read her face.

“Stop.” he says softly, smoothing his thumb over the line forming between her furrowed brows. “Stressin’ that pretty little head out. We’ll handle it.”

“Tell me somethin’ good.”

Lip nods, pushing her hair away from her neck, placing a kiss there before murmuring against her ear. “You look really beautiful, birthday girl.”

“Thank you. Somethin’ else?”

“Love you.” he says, placing another kiss before looking up to watch the stop they’re on.

“Love you more.” she hums.

“Bullshit.” he scoffs. “C’mon, this one’s us.” Lip helps her up, guiding her to walk in front of him, absently tugging her dress down over her ass a little to counter it riding up as she walks. The blond walks with his wife, their fingers intertwined, her spare hand busy picking at itself, her fingernails poking at her skin incessantly, nervously. As they walk down the block, Lip grows more frustrated, noticing that she’s so distracted she’s not even noticing where they are. “Okay. Stop. Let’s talk.”

Charlotte lets him pull her to a stop, standing before him. “Okay, lets.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I’m worried about your siblings.” she whines.

Lip runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “CPS comes like 3 times a year, we deal with it. They take ‘em or they don’t. They do? We go to court, get them back, a week, tops. They don’t, we move on until next time.”

“That’s awful.”

“The system sucks, princess, ‘m’glad you know nothin’ about it. But we know how to do this. It’ll be okay. And it's easier now that Ian and I are grown too. It’s gonna be okay.” Lip eyes her, bringing one hand to his lips and kissing it before prompting her to continue. “Next.”

“You’re job?”

“Was gonna save this for not your birthday, because it’s supposed to be about you, but I don’t want you to pick all of the skin off your fingers so…” he tugs her forward, digging his hand into the pocket of his jacket she’s wearing, producing a badge. “New badge.”

Charlotte squints at the title printed on the badge and her eyes widen. “Project manager? You got promoted?” A wide smile makes its way onto Charlotte’s face, and Lip matches it with his own smirk, gladly accepting the onslaught of kisses he receives all over his face as she squeals. “I’m so happy for you, bubba!”

“Thank you, bunny.” he smiles, kissing her lips twice before setting her back onto her own feet. “Last thing?”

Charlotte immediately looks away from him, rocking nervously on her heels. “I…this morning…I-”

“Words, baby.”

“I…said something, we’ve never really talked about before.” Lip’s eyes widen in acknowledgement and suddenly the words are falling out of her mouth like vomit. “I didn’t mean it! Not…ugh, I mean not now. I love you and it felt good, and I got caught up in the moment. I didn’t mean to scare you, or rush you and I know we’re not even…we don’t even have the space for that. It’s not…not time, but I just said that and I meant it but I didn’t mean it.”

She’s never wanted to punch him more than when he snickers.

“What? What? Phillip!”

Lip wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. “Stop whinin’. It fuckin’ scared me shitless, okay? But,” he tugs her back again when she squirms against him, making an embarrassed groan. “I think about it too. Love you too. It felt good, hearin’ you say that. Obviously. So, now we know we both like that shit. Hell, for me it's probably genetic. And y’know, eventually, we’ll get there. Could be sooner. Could be later. Nothin’ to freak out about.” he nudges her chin with his knuckle. “‘Kay?”

“Kay.”

“Good.” he sighs. “All done?” she nods, and he nods with her looking around. “Fuckin’ awesome, can we celebrate your birthday now?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Good, look around, baby, where are we?”

Charlotte looks at their surroundings for the first time since getting off of the bus, eyes widening as she views the pretty townhouses, uniform and lined up. Just behind them is the neighborhood that Lip had taken her to see the lights all of that time ago. “These townhouses are so cute.” she chirps, whipping her head around.

Lip slips behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head on her shoulder. “Show me which one’s your favorite.”

The woman’s big brown eyes slip over to a sage green townhouse, it nearly looks exactly like the shade she’d always wanted. The one she’d told Lip she’d want her house to be like two months ago…and the paint looked pretty fresh. “That one.” she breathes.

“Yeah? Should we go eat inside? Or we could check out the backyard.” he hums against her cheek. Charlotte slips her hand up into his hair, still staring at the house.

“I dunno. What if the people who live here come home early…I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Lip shrugs, digging in the bag and producing something from it to dangle in front of Charlotte’s face.

“I spoke to the husband and he was fuckin’ cool with it, even said he thinks we should christen the place. But I guess I should ask the wife too.”

Silver keys come into the focus of Charlotte’s vision and she uses Lip’s solid chest to support her weight.

“Well, Bunny? What do you say?”

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #oc #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #kevin ball #lip gallagher x oc #shameless #veronica fisher #gallagher #charlotte fisher #better #lip gallagher x charlotte fisher #lip gallagher x you #love

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ax-y10 · 2 years ago

Text

Goofiness

In which- Ranboo infected you with his silliness

Request: Something about reader and Ranboo being silly and goofy friends @colorfull-cord

A/n: I FEEL SO BAD THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY! I am not lying when I had so much progress, then it got lost, then I accidentally posted it instead of saving it as a draft and I then deleted it accidentally and now I have to redo it I did not mean for this to happen I'm so sorry pls forgive me

Chapter info: Goofy, silly, Ranboo and reader being dickheads, swearing... (expect that from all of my work), mentions of anxiety, mentions of body and facial dysmorphia, and let me know if I fucked up Ranboo's pronouns somewhere

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

You guys would have the cutest little handshakes and greetings

For example: A soft headbutt followed by a handshake, a gentle poke between the collarbone followed by a hug, a harmless, sarcastic insult thrown at the other followed by laughter

People would either look at you both with a confused expression, wondering what the fuck you guys are doing headbutting each other. Or they would look at you both with fond, silently admiring the two friends.

You would definitely just sit on a discord call late at night and listen to a bunch of their favourite Lemon Demon songs and they would listen to yours.

No doubt, you would do this for hours

Sleepovers would be like Tommy's sleepover vlog

Everything would be happening all at once.

Playing basketball and them having to help you get a slam dunk, begging them to donate some of their height

Taking their stuff and accidentally breaking stuff because "You didn't know it was fragile"

Watching random streams (specifically Aimsey's, Billzo's, Freddie's or Tommy's)

Sitting on the beds, painting each other's nails, attempting to make good food but ending up getting takeout

You guys would end up passed out randomly, you in your chair and Ranboo in such an uncomfortable position on the bed (no doubt you both woke up with the worst backache)

Streaming with them would just be chaos

Your little inside jokes made no sense to anyone else, and the both of you loved seeing Twitter explode over controversies for an inside joke you made.

You and Aimsey's little sister would definitely make fun of Aimsey's height because she's just so small and cute

And if you were up working really late at night at Ranboo's place, they would definitely just pick you up and carry you to bed if you fell asleep

If you were awake however, they would attempt to do what they do every other night, but you would just kick them in the knees and tell them to "Fuck off" jokingly.

But knowing them, they would just sit in the room for hours until you fell asleep so they could do that again

But imagine Tommy comes over and you both aren't inside but are out the back

And Tom tries to find you to tell you that Wilbur had invited you to a gig

And he eventually finds you both

And you were both throwing random clumps of grass at each other

But Ranboo accidentally hit you a bit too hair in the face with a clump of grass so you ran and grabbed the nearest heavy object, that being a scooter of theirs, and threatening to throw it at them

And Tommy just walked back inside and sat on the couch, waiting for you both to come back inside

I feel like if you were sick, Ranboo would just sit in your house or next to you or in whichever room you were in for days just to make sure you were okay

Like if you fell asleep on the couch, they would lay on the floor and just watch you, making sure that if you needed the bathroom or medicine or a water, he was prepared.

And if that did happen, they were always immediately off the floor and rushing to the fridge, or the cupboard, or the toilet, lifting up the lid, and getting ready to hold your hair back for you.

And you could never be more grateful for them in these little moments

And if they were sick, you would do the exact same

And they would always tease you with their height, hiding your phone charger on the very top shelf in the cupboard, or hiding the glasses and cutlery in the highest spots in the house

But if you ever got too upset, they would always back down from their jokes and apologise repeatedly

And they would just be so understanding if you ever had any sort of insecurity of your body, body dysmorphia, facial dysmorphia, or even just having a hard time , always being able to comfort your nerves better than their own

If you struggle with any social anxiety or anxiety in public spaces, they would just calm down their happy and cheerful mood and tone it down a few notches to their comforting one

The one they use on Tommy when streaming and being a content creator gets ahold of him

And they sit you down and immediately start comforting you

#Ranboo #Ranboo x reader #Platonic #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #dream smp #Tommyinnit #AimseyTV #Badlinu #bilzo #I wanted to make it fluffy as well #I tried my hardest lol #Headcanons #Ranboo being a silly goofy guy #how else do I tag this post?#mcyt #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader

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love-hatred-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

mercy

>> a quick warning, my dears: smut, sub!billy, fem!reader, dacryphilia (not really mentioned as a turn on tho, billy just cries the whole time), bondage, sad billy, mean!reader, and probably more, so be aware! MDNI! ty!

>> excuse any mistakes pls!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

„I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!!” Dragging the words out, he sits there –whining your name continuously without you doing anything at all.

“Shut up!” You warn. You’ve lost count on how many times he’s begged for forgiveness today.

You aren’t in the mood for games. You are in the mood to ruin the man in front of you. Too bad because even that, he would enjoy, you knew.

He whimpers and lets his head hang low in hopelessness. You have him bound to the chair inside your living room, hands tied together with cable ties. Because he wanted it like that. He had pleaded for you to do what you wanted to him, to punish him. That was the only thing you would be granting him. For a long, long time.

„I don’t want to hear you anymore. I’m tired of this bullshit, Russo!!“ You have to really control yourself to not go completely feral right now.

He whines again.

„You’re pathetic, Russo! Do you know how much it costs me not to leave you right here, go to sleep and throw you right out the first thing in the morning? Fucking hell, I want to throw you out right fucking now!“ But you don’t. And you don’t know what you see in him that makes you want to forgive him everything in just a split second. But of course, you also don’t do that. Even if you did, you knew, deep down he wouldn’t forgive himself either.

His eyes show you how much he wants to open his mouth to apologize and beg again and you’re more than glad that he chooses not to this time, scared to disobey you once more. Like he didn’t already crossed every line and crashed every wall.

You sigh, massaging your temple with one hand, trying to ease the headache your boyfriend had brought upon you. That’s what he was; pure, consistent headache.

Something had changed in him over the last couple of weeks. He’d always been so sweet and smart and eager to please you. Well, he was still all that but there was something new to his persona. A fire. Like yours. And it was exhausting to keep him in check. Impossible almost. Which was why you’ve grown to be more direct and rough with him. Otherwise he would never listen.

But now. Oh now. It was almost like his switch had been flipped again. His jeans covered legs slightly shaking, his lips trembling, his eyes teary and his face guilty.

„Tell me, Russo; Do you deserve my forgiveness?“ It’s a mean question. You watch how it affects his whole being entirely. Tears pooling at his eyes, threatening to find their path down his cheeks, down his neck. Until they reach his naked chest and dry. He sniffles and you curse his dark hair that hides most of his face in silence. You want to at least see him suffer.

„Answer me. Or do you want to leave right now? You can leave right-“ You bark his way and he’s quicker to respond this time.

„No!“ He cries, trying to hold louder sounds inside. He knows you’re already on edge (where he brought you) so it would be unwise to stretch your patience even more.

You laugh lightly.

„That’s right. And do you know what brats like you get? Also right, absolutely nothing. Do you think I deserve to be treated like this, huh? Tell me Russo! I would like to know!” Tears also gathered in your eyes now, but you blinked them away quickly.

He lifted his head to look at you and the view almost made you choke on your own breath. He looked like a mess.

“You don’t- You don’t deserve to be treated like this. I’m sorry, Y/n-“

“Do not call me by my name!” Your blood was boiling once again. He should know. You had ‘trained’ him better. But the whole situation made his chest grow so tight with anxiety and guilt that he thought whatever was going on here was past any sexual plays. Which it was, but you couldn’t stand it, to be disrespected by him right now.

There he was. Billy Russo, usually the boss of everyone around him. A merciless, ruthful man he was. But when he came home, he wasn’t like that anymore. Though, lately these two big differences seemed to confuse him and mess with his head. Because why else would he go out of his way just to betray your trust? And break almost every last one of the rules you had set.

Now it was on you how to deal with that. Tonight, he finally made you snap. Before, you had tried to handle him more careful because you knew something with work had him spiraling. Something must bother him so much, it makes him want to keep control at home now too, when he looses it a work. And you were very understanding at first. For a start you quit leading him into submission. Because you feared that it would take a toll on his self control and overall demeanor if you didn’t act accordingly.

You had endured many hours of pointless arguments, petty comments, that had sometimes reached your shell and hurt you with a force that you didn’t expect. Not from your boyfriend anyways. You were in utter shock the first time he’d barked back a snarly comment about your past relationships. You hated it but you were sensitive about that topic. Before Billy, you weren’t as careful with who to choose as your partner. They had mistreated you many times. Of course you broke it of with all of them as soon as you felt disrespected.

But he had blamed you for all of it. He said you were too stubborn, too dominant, overall not how his woman was supposed to be. And that had broken your heart. You had tried to swallow it, to keep in mind why he was saying such things. You figured he felt attacked. He was scared you would take his control away, which you’ve done so many times before, with consent from both sides. But you had to accept, he wasn’t your old Billy anymore.

After a particularly hard day at work, Russo had decided to go to a pub. Just to relax a bit and get his mind off of things. Not only his work was exhausting him but also the circumstances at home, with you. He fully knew that everything was his fault, he hated himself for treating you so careless. He could only wish you weren’t gonna leave his ass soon. But he expected it nonetheless. Couldn’t blame you for it.

The night had escalated quickly and while missing all your worried calls, he’d sat there on the leather couch, with numbed senses and a almost naked woman up his neck. He didn’t touch her, but he willingly let himself be touched. Mostly because he was so out of it, he didn’t even know if it was you who’s been grinding on his lap or a stranger that looked like you. However, he was past the stage of feeling anything. He probably fell asleep soon after.

Fact was, that he didn’t remember how he got home. He only remembers your soft hands on him turning harsh the moment he was able to speak again. He figured you had found out where he’d spend his night and were furious. Couldn’t blame you for it.

Which was where you two were now.

He’d started apologizing to you when he got his memory back and went from feeling nothing, to feeling absolutely everything. He was desperate to get you to forgive him. Although he knew that wasn’t likely. In his hazed state he felt like he was gonna lose himself at the thought of losing you. Which was more likely to happen.

——

“I know, I know. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please, believe me, I didn’t want any of this! I just wanted piece for a while. I didn’t know were else to go. But I’m sorry! It was a mistake! I won’t even think of doing it again, I promise, I promise!” His glossy eyes search for yours.

“You never keep your promises anymore. You’ve become a liar, Russo.” Your alarmingly calm voice flushes his ears.

“I can’t tell anymore if you still love me.”

His heart beat begins to hammer against his chest. He knows he’s not allowed to talk but he can’t leave that statement how it is.

“I do! I love you! I swear- god, Y/n, you don’t even know how much I love you. I never stopped, I swear on everything I have! I’m sorry for everything, I will make it up to you. I’m not a liar!” He cries, his cheeks completely wet.

“Yeah, but maybe I am.” He looks at you, confused.

“Maybe I’m telling myself I can still fix you, get my old Billy back. Because we love each other. But I realize that if only one of us puts in the effort, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.” The way your soft voice dances off the walls of the room makes him shiver. The tears making their way down his chest and ending up wetting his jeans.

“Please- don’t… don’t leave me! I can not do this without you!”

You scoff and take your time walking towards him in a torturously slow and seducing way. The way your hips sway in unison with the steps of your heels while the dress you’re wearing hugs your perfect curves makes him go insane. He will never get over the fact, that you’re his girlfriend. Such a beautiful woman –like you are– shouldn’t even look at his scarred face.

“Oh Billy, how pathetic you are. You know the things you felt comfortable doing aren’t acceptable, don’t you? Is that why you’re crying?” It’s like he’s trying to grasp something that is meant to pull away from him because he doesn’t deserve it.

“Why don’t you do me a favor? Be a good boy and take what I give you, yeah? Enjoy the last time I’ll fuck you into oblivion.” Reality punches his face while he still hopes this is just a dream. A wet dream of his that makes him all brain dead for you, like you always do. It wouldn’t be the first time, and god he wishes he had the right to demand it not to be the last time as well.

The second your fresh breath fans against his neck his mind goes haywire. He would never get used to the way you make him feel, but now, now everything feels so blurred together. Billy sobs and cries and doesn’t stop while slowly remembering how it feels like to be aroused by you. It feels almost forbidden in this moment but you make it clear to him by showing him not only the bitterness in your eyes but also the lust that threatens to shimmer through. In this moment he’s a goner. You bend down unhurriedly and use your hand to lift your dress up to be able to straddle his lap in a sensual manner.

You’re the most inviting, intriguing, exciting, smart, interesting, appealing, desirable and erotic woman he’s ever met in his entire trauma-filled shithole of a life. And to this day he still wonders why the universe would ever bring you into hands. Well, he thought, that time was over now, fair enough.

“Are you gonna be good for me? Do you want me to touch you one last time?” It almost felt forbidden to feel so utterly turned on by you in this situation, but Billy couldn’t help it. You have that effect on him, always had. But you aren’t doing this for him, you’d allowed yourself to be selfish this once. So you had decided you needed this before never having it again, you could only guess how miserable your sex life would be after Russo.

Billy nods frantically, but isn’t able to stop his heaving chest because of the sobs that are rocking through his body, regardless of the lewdness the situation brought. To be honest here, he’d been sporting a boner since you’ve tied him to this chair.

“Use your words. Or I remove myself quicker than you can beg me for more.” You threatened and the coldness of your dark eyes meets the desperation in his. Renewed panic settles in his mind, quickly thinking of something to say.

“No! I mean- yes, I want this- you… I want you! So much it hurts, Y/n.” He fights against the ropes, wanting to finally touch you again. He hasn’t been allowed to for weeks. You always knew you would grant him every wish that fell from his lips once he made you his wife, but you still weren’t and you couldn’t stand him disrespecting you any longer. The last thing you would be for him was a woman with no self esteem and dominance to stand up for herself and he knew that very well, too.

You tut at him. “No saying my name, Billy. I don’t want to hear anything from this point on actually.” You began undoing his belt before unbuttoning his jeans with your tender fingers that he wishes were already up to squeeze his throat. “I won’t show mercy this time. I don’t care if you beg or cry or mewl. If it’s too much, you know your safe word. Other than that, I don’t want to hear a word from you, is that clear?” You’re done undressing him.

Billy nods, feeling you push your panties to the side before already brushing your entrance against his hard cock. He swallows a moan. Oh, there’s no mercy left in you, is there? The question is answered when he feels himself being pushed inside your warmth without warning. Your hands roam his chest before find his neck to roughly press on. You come closer and moan against his ear. Billy almost suffocates, the overwhelming feeling of your body pressed against him –while knowing he will never have that again– gets too much to bare and he begins to cry once again.

You set an unforgiving pace, rocking up and down relentlessly. It gives your satisfaction, knowing he can’t help but cry out for you because his biggest fear is about to come true. He will lose you. And you wish you didn’t care as much as you did but the silent tears falling down your cheeks betray you.

While feeling your high come closer any second it gets harder watching him go insane under you. Billy was the man you always hoped to marry and now, he was sitting here, at your mercy, breaking because he was so overwhelmed by everything you made him feel at once.

“Billy, it’s okay.” You hold onto his shoulders, finding a new sense of strength.

You chase your orgasm while hoping he will cum before you do, not granting him any other friction than this one. But you know it was gonna be enough when you hear his breath quickening, his dick twitching and his eyes glistening with tears, pleadingly looking up at you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

masterlist

feedback is always welcome!!

#dom!fem!reader #sub!billy russo #billy russo #dom reader #sub!character

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mecachrome · 8 months ago

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wahh thank u @scrappyracers for the tag i enjoyed ur answers a lot :') f1 tag game...

Who is your favorite driver?: i am an oscarybro first & foremost <3 he's the only driver i truly rep because honestly i don't think i have the bandwidth for more even if i wanted to/tried!!

Do you have other favorite drivers?: i would basically put alex below oscar in his own little tier and then it's just like [WALL]... but i'm also fond of yuki + lando + lewis and respekt maxv :') the rest of the grid i honestly don't think about 99% of the time LOL not in a bad way but because i barely have enough energy for My Guys as is u know

Who is your least favorite driver?: 😔 i feel bad sharing hateurisms on my family friendly blog.

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: def drivers first but i genuinely like mclaren as a racing outfit so that helps!!! when oscar was still in alp i suffered so much because of it being a deeply unserious team and even back then when the cracks were still forming this was fairly evident because i had a rossi agenda, so i was like wegghhhh i guess i can enjoy a williams stint/swallow down alpine content for him. 😔 and then he replaced [answer to question above which at the time hindered my mcl support significantly] and i got the ultimate driver pairing at a team i'm actually quite fond of ❤️🤍🖤

If you like teams, what team do you pull for?: any1 else papayapilled??? 🧡

How long have you been into F1?: a little over 2 years!!! how i managed to get into this sport via an inactive reserve driver i don't know.....

What got you into F1?: several friends were getting into it & were reading mxl fic & things of that nature and even though i wasn't really invested in any of the ships presented i ended up biting as well... but fsr i was not compelled by most f1 content / barely watched dts and instead got reeaaally into feeder series, i think perhaps because at the time i was fascinated by prospect projections + mapping / modeling career trajectories + the idea of "ceilings" in hockey and was watching a ton of jr hockey so it kind of translated over and i got to enjoy masterclasses like litr the most broken broadcast streams ever of kimi driving off into the distance in adac f4. But anyway... i also watched chasing the dream and became obsessed with oscar from that and the rest was history 😌🐨🧡

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF?: i definitely read it!!! RPF Is Fine etc. i've written 2 effwon fics very poorly and that's it but i peruse the 814 archives regularly..... i forever need to be better at commenting and feel very bad about my own shyness but i think this fandom has such a wealth of incred authors whom i am always in awe of x__x 🧡 tho i will say i'm also a stickler for the 4th wall and it mildly horrifies me that 814 are 75% public..... also fun fact 814 is my favorite oscar ship but it's only my #3 lando ship LOL. j(e|o)ndo you are so special 2 meee

How do you view new fans?: well i'm a relatively new fan so 💗 honestly i barely witness or process most fandom discourse wrt: gatekeeping the sport or dts fans or what have you since i do not frequent those circles of the internet (no public twitter / have never downloaded tiktok in my life) so i don't even know the primary arguments!!

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: i should never be put in charge of anything. now i'm just trying to think strategically like okay where would i want to live but even then i have no idea...

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?: my family could not care less but def the former !!! 💗 going to my 2nd gp soon with my beloved chirlie friend who has been with me thru k-pop fandom for like 8 years now hehe

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: yes i'm just very shy & have multiple anxiety disorders Amongst other things so pls forgive my neuroticism 😭😭😭 but i love 2 have discussions.... oscar piastri lore is my passion in fact <3

0 pressure tagging @bright-and-burning @piastrisms @miamimaiden @goingxmissing If u would like !!! these r fun qs i like hearing about people's fandom journeys/experiences hehe :')

#personal

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itsgonnagetinspiringsoon · 4 months ago

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ok so i know i've literally never posted abt sanders sides before on this blog (i haven't been keeping up for a few years) but i've been tumbling down a waterslide lined with my old hyperfixations for the last few hours and ended up creating D&D au character designs for the core four sides using heroforge. images and descriptions under the cut if you're interested ❤ bonus points if you can guess what classes they are (this is EXTREMELY self-indulgent so pls forgive the ranting abt them, they're very important to me ok)

First up we have Roman! my beloved. one of my first questions when starting his design was how can i make him look as cunty as possible? the answer: heeled boots and winged eyeliner (It's a little tricky to see but he's got gold metallic eyeliner). I ADORE Roman's colour pallet so i kept it as close to accurate as i could, making white the base colour and accentuating it with the gold armor and the dramatic red shoulder cape as my stand-in for his sash. he's wielding a katana OF COURSE how could he not be. he's slaying ⚔ 🐉 and slaying 💅💋

moving on:

Patton. my baby, my honey, my ragtime gal. i decided to make his hair a little longer than roman's bc i thought it made him look softer and more approachable. it was UNBELIEVABLY hard to find something that sort of replaced his cardigan without looking too chunky but i did like this kind of loose tattered mantle, so i went with that. kept the sky blue shirt and gray cardigan/shawl, but gave him more greyish blue pants so they didn't blend into the shirt too much. glasses are round instead of square bc again i thought they made him look friendlier than the square ones. freckles bc i personally think freckles are very cute and patton is very cute so he got freckles. no shoes he's travelling the realms like the gods intended. the dad vibes are strong i want him to give me a hug 🥺

next up:

logan is quite possibly my favourite side so i really wanted to get his design right. the MOST important thing was giving him his iconic necktie, which ended up being pretty much the same color as his canon design. i couldn't give the tie specifically a pattern, so i made his vest stripy like his tie is in the show and i think it looks really good. his glasses are the more classic nerd ones which is perfect for him and i gave him black eyeliner bc i thought it made him look more serious. i added the coat for more of a d&d look (it doesn't make sense to traverse planes wearing a vest and tie) i think it gives him an extra bit of style that i love.

and last but not least:

the Anxious BoiTM himself (i've only had him for five minutes seven years but if anything happened to him etc etc). virgil's was one of the easiest designs aesthetically and hardest mechanically (you'll never guess what class he is guys i took some BIG swings). I knew i wanted him in black and purple (obviously) and i knew i wanted to give him the iconic purple hair dye and eyeshadow. i almost said screw the genre and put him in a zippered hoodie but i do think that a cloak and cowl would suit him very well (good for hiding in) and i found a combo that looked equally cosy and spooky. a bow is good for attacking long range and keeping out of danger (appropriate for anxiety, i thought) and the mask looks intimidating but actually helps him with sensory overload (with the cowl and mask on he's basically in a mini sensory deprivation bubble). an eyebrow ring bc he's edgy idk why honestly i thought it looked cool.

So that's basically it! As i said before if you can guess their respective classes i'll give you a cookie (🍪). since i can't draw, heroforge is usually my go-to for character creation and i have to recommend it (i think i talk abt this site a lot but 🤷‍♀️) it's so helpful for non-artist types like myself.

I hope you enjoyed! please leave comments if you liked they feed me (if you didn't like it, please just move on and don't let me know, i'm doing this for fun and i don't want any negativity please ❤) @thatsthat24 hope you like 🥰

#sanders sides #long post #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #you're too loud al #this is so different than what i usually post #sorry to all my d20 and starkid moots/followers i'm revisiting my old blorbos #i might be stuck here for a while who knows #pls be patient i love you all #do NOT @ me abt typos i wrote this at 12 am #no beta we die like logan in dealing with intrusive thoughts

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tojisun · 6 months ago

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ive missed so many games, IM SORRY SUNSUN!!! I HAVE TO CATCH UP! ive been in a funk; only able to read, not yap. which makes me sad! i miss u cutie, but ill be yappin to u soon !!!!! i love you always🩷

omg love dont u worry about a thing!! im just glad to be talking to u :'> i missed u so so much and i hope u are doing well!! and pls, i cant wait for our yap sesh teehee <33

i love you always kai my star!!

hockey ramble (a long winded break down of the finals so far, from an oilers fan) under the cut so pls feel free to ignore again heheh

so the oilers win western conference and headed to finals, facing off with the panthers.

games one and two were played in the home ice of the panthers because during the regular seasons, after tallying each team's wins, the panthers had more wins than the oilers (104 EDM - 110 FLA)

the finals started really badly for the oilers. game one was a shutout (0 EDM - 3 FLA), game two wasn't any better (1 EDM - 4 FLA). game three saw oilers managing to shave the score difference to one point but they ended up losing too (3 EDM - 4 FLA). these three consecutive wins for the panthers means that they only need one more game to win the cup.

and then game four happened.

this was played in the edmonton home rink (so was game three), and because it was the final game that the panthers needed to win to get the cup, it was riddled with anxiety.

oilers scored first.

scoring first is necessary for shifting the momentum, but it was not a goal that really settled our nerves because game two started that way too, with the oilers scoring first only for the rest of their shots to be blocked by the great wall that bobrovsky (panthers' goaltender) makes.

but then they scored another one, and another one, and ended the first period with a two point lead (3 EDM - 1 FLA), with one of their goals this period made during the panthers' power play.

it was exhilarating. the flicker of hope grew and it turned into a whole blaze.

period two saw more beautiful progress for the oilers, with their captain and forward, and arguably the very heart of the team, connor mcdavid finally scoring his first goal in the finals of the playoffs.

not soon after, davo matched his goal with an assist to nurse, bringing up the score difference between the oilers and the panthers to four. it is by then that the panthers pulled their starting goaltender out, bobby, and subbed in stolarz who made his "first career playoff appearance" in this game.

stolarz struggled too, and, in the end, facing the spectacular plays made by the oilers, game four was snagged from a panthers sweep and extended the oilers' season. it was a tremendous victory (8 EDM - 1 FLA). historical, even.

non-fans called it a fluke, saying that the panthers just wanted to win the cup in home ice, while fans saw this as oilers finally waking up and playing how they usually do.

game five was played back in the panthers home ice. again, one more win for the panthers and they would be the cup winners, so tensions continue to mount and peak.

davo, in an interview, said that they will win this game and "drag them back to alberta." (talking about game 6).

dude, i can't even begin to explain how monumental yesterday's game was, but drag it back home they did. i'm still reeling over the final score so i'm still incoherent and pretty much in disbelief so do forgive me. but:

stuart skinner, the man he is.

i forgot which commentary youtuber said it but this is how they described skinner: he is average at best, especially against bobrovsky, but he is volatile. he is a beast when he gets in his groove. unshakable.

we saw that skinner yesterday. in a sport where goaltending amounts to the final score, stuart skinner made impossible saves yesterday. yes, it's not a shutout and yes, the panthers scored three goals more than comfortable, but the saves that skinner made were the tight and hard-hitting ones.

the momentum he carved out for the team in period one was kept consistent throughout the game.

connor brown and his shortie - a goal made during a panthers power play. it was the first goal of yesterday's game, during a crucial moment, and shot after an impossibly terrific of a pass from janmark.

connor mcdavid.

i may sound too biased but you have to understand where i'm coming from. davo is the best NHL player of this decade, and this sentiment is very much founded.

he has so many highlight moments from yesterday's game, but three of the monumental ones for me are: his second goal, his assist to perry's goal, and his clutch goal during the third period with only about less than twenty seconds left in the clock.

tkachuck was able to save the initial empty-netter goal. it was a tremendous save and cinematic, to be honest. he hooked the puck with his stick and used his full body to fling it out. he ended up caught in the net - cue the memes - but davo skated after the puck, took control of it, and amidst cheers for tkachuk's miracle save, he sent it back in the net, ending the game with a two point lead for the oilers (5 EDM - 3 FLA).

it was SOMETHING.

everyone knew it then - game five was a historical play.

and it was: the oilers are the "first team in a stanley cup final to win a game 5 on the road after trailing 3-0."

im sorry for the hockey rant, its just that. what started as a passing interest for the team that beat my team (canucks) turned into a full-blown love because how can you not???

#kai <3 #ask #suns net #oilers lb

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artficlly · 1 year ago

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lady of the ghosts [chapter 6]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: death, mention of dead body, anxiety, doubt, discussion of funerals, mentions of sexism, angst, tension, FLUFF, lovebites, steve is cocky, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: heres a short n sweet one for ya <3 the funeral is coming up next chapter, are you ready??? i think if i start writing smaller chapters i might be able to get them out more frequently instead of the 10k+ monster this chapter was supposed to be. also i've put this fic onto ao3 (same name and username - pls leave some kudos to help boost) please enjoy and let me know what you think, reblogs and likes appreciated! as always, not proof read - sorry for any typos

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Before the Stormfall Mountain’s Pass had been created, Faliene had been impenetrable. The city was only accessible by the frigid Northern Ocean, and few dared to challenge her depths. All those years ago, men feared the gods and what may have lurked under the surface. The children of Neume harnessed the wind and waves, so her inky depths spared them. The same could not be said for the others. The pass had been a success, but it was also the beginning of the end. Her secrets and spirit were lost to the passage of time, devoured by Haiford the moment her underbelly was revealed. The fall was inevitable.

The pass had fallen into disrepair since you last traveled it, with entire sections of the path swallowed by snow and ice. You had been a child back then, ushered from inn to carriage day after day as you and your mother had escaped the plague-ridden city. You wondered if the mountains remembered you as you remembered them. Did your footprints remain buried deep under layers of snow? Or had they been washed away in the thaw as quickly as a wave over sand?

You had never thought you would see those thick blankets of snow again, your breath was constant and loud as the thin air burned your lungs. How many years have you dreamed of this pass? Your fingers and toes numb as you barreled through the blizzard, reaching and screaming for that distant city. How many years has it been since you last saw Faliene in all her glory? As excited as you were to be reunited with your home, apprehension clawed at your gut.

Would your people remember you? Would they accept you – their lady, who had spent half her childhood coddled away in Haiford Capital while they starved? Would they hate you or forgive you? You had spent so long fighting and trying to return; would you even recognize Faliene anymore? You had been stripped of so many things – a mother, a home, a culture – did you even know how to be a part of your own heritage, your legacy? So many questions clawed at your mind that your stomach would ache at night as you lay awake contemplating the vastness of it all.

With stiff hands, you wrapped your fur cloak closer around your body, your eyes straining against the bitter wind that blew polar air straight to your core. Around you, thick flakes of snow floated, a layer of ice clinging to your eyelashes and exposed hair. In the distance, you could make out the warm orange candlelight of the inn; in the time you had been gone, the sky had darkened dramatically. You were not afraid of the cold or the dark, and you relished the opportunity to breathe in the frosty night sky.

So many years you had spent cooped up. What would be a nightmare for most would be freedom for you.

Due to King Harrison not having the foresight to hire a Falienean guide, it fell to you to scout the barely-used path. Although inexperienced, you had not failed so far. Following your intuition and fuzzy memories, you were able to locate the paths long buried under months of snow. In the evenings, while the others sheltered in the inns and boardhouses throughout the pass, you would scout ahead to ensure the path was safe to follow.

Thankfully, due to the many families that still braved living in the mountains, most of the main path remained relatively intact. The families were mainly farmers raising mountain goats and sheep, offering board for travelers and traders for extra income. And much to your rising concern, many of the families didn’t recognize you as their lady until you introduced yourself.

Once dismounted, you quickly settled your horse in the small stable attached to the inn. Due to navigational convenience and your growing resentment of being cooped up in a carriage, you had mostly traveled on horseback. The first days between Haiford Capital and the mountains, you would have nightmares of being trapped inside a coffin – like your mothers – clawing your nails bloody on the wood. When you would finally rip off the lid of the coffin, you would find yourself in a carriage, the horses charging at a neck-breaking speed.

As you passed the carriages tucked away beside the stables, you frowned. One for King Harrison, Peggy, and Michael. The other for your mother in her coffin. Although you were nearly two weeks into your journey, her body would show no signs of decomposition. The mountains would have frozen her solid, her body like a porcelain doll.

Once inside the inn, you quickly ascended the stairs to the upper level. Although you were freezing and craving a warm drink, the idea of fighting past the Haifordian guard that crowded the kitchen stove sounded exhausting. Shrugging off your cloak, jacket, and hat, you reached the room you shared with Peggy. With such a small inn and a large traveling party, it was easier for certain groups to sleep in the same room. Both you and Peggy being unmarried women meant you were paired together, while some of the Haifordian guards were cramming more than six men into a room.

Your hand paused over the doorknob, a sound from the other side catching you off guard. You were so busy contemplating how best to dry your damp clothing that you nearly missed it. Leaning your ear closer to the door, you roll your eyes in irritation. The sound of Peggy giggling carried through the wood, a familiar male voice spoke low words you couldn’t quite make out.

Steve. With a huff, you step away from the door. Both of them had been playing a risky game the entire trip, regularly visiting each other's rooms. The wrong person would eventually learn about them, it was only a matter of time.

You hesitate in the hallway. They had never visited so late into the evening before; normally Peggy was preparing for or already in bed by the time you came back from your scouting missions. Traveling through thick snow was as hard as expected, exhausting even for those tucked into the carriages. It wasn’t unusual for the party to be in bed straight after an early supper.

You were half tempted to barge in and interrupt them; you were tired from a long day on horseback. You still didn’t feel like braving the kitchen and sitting outside and waiting would be highly suspicious. Lingering in the hallway for a few more minutes, you grumble a few unsavory words under your breath before trying to find your next best options. James.

To the surprise of everyone but you, James had canceled the season. He had also insisted on traveling with the first party – your party – to Faliene. Another party was a few days behind yours, made up of Galantian and Asgardian guards, a group of the Galantian court, and Asgardian royalty. You had a sneaking suspicion that while half of them were there to show their respect, the others were there to see a Falienean funeral firsthand. Due to the rituals and traditions involved, Falienean funerals were frequently regarded as barbaric spectacles.

You waver outside James’ room. Despite him traveling with your party, the two of you had barely spoken since the library. You suspected he was trying to draw attention away from the both of you, but his presence mustered up enough rumors with the Haifordian guard. Most of your conversations were spent with Steve. When he wasn’t bluntly flirting with Peggy, he would be complaining about the growing cold, much to your mockery and amusement. You were unsure of how he would cope with the chill of Faliene; the Stormfall Mountains were cold, but nothing in comparison to the chill that blew in off the northern sea.

Chewing your lip, you finally gave in and rapped your knuckles lightly against the door. With your breath held, you wait, wondering if he even heard the knock at all. You might have missed him downstairs, or maybe he had already fallen asleep–

The door suddenly swung open, startling you as you took a step back. James stood in the doorway, an equally surprised expression flashing across his features momentarily. It wasn’t just the expression that hinted at his shock at your presence, but also the fact that he was shirtless. You hug your discarded clothing closer to your chest. You tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his bare skin, your mouth growing dry as you struggled to find words to explain your sudden presence at his door.

Now no longer covered, you could get a better look at his tattooed arm, with swirling blue ink patterning his entire left arm and shoulder. A large, raised scar ran across his shoulder joint, nearly entirely encircling the flesh. The scar was ghostly white and gnarled like the roots of a tree. It looked impossible – the type of scar someone shouldn’t have survived. But the ink decorating his skin told a story you already knew. Magic. Magic had saved his arm and, most likely, his life. So many denied its existence when it stood so blatantly in front of them.

Swallowing hard, you glance upward to meet his gaze. You couldn’t ignore the smirk that tugged at his lips, his right side now leaning against the doorframe as he eyed you with a silent satisfaction.

“Can I come in?” You abruptly say, suddenly remembering how to speak. James’ chuckles lowly at you before motioning you inside.

Still flustered, you quickly duck past his muscled form, peeling off your gloves as you stand in the center of the room with a quiet huff. James’ still snickers at you as he closes the door.

“You knocked so quietly, I thought I was hearing things.” He says this while you continue to refuse to look at him. Instead, your gaze falls on the room around you; it is nearly identical to yours. Two beds are layered with furs and blankets, one for him and one for Steve. A sheepskin rug thrown over the wooden floors. On the other side of the room is a roaring fireplace, with two seats positioned in front of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.” You mutter, squeezing your hand into a fist as you try to regain feeling in your numb fingers.

“Peggy and Steve?” He asks, the floorboards creaking softly under his weight as he inches closer to where you stand.

“They’re going to get caught–” You begin to grumble but cut yourself off as you realize how close James has grown. Your breath catches in your throat as he reaches out, a single tattooed finger twirling around a damp strand of your hair.

“You’re soaking.” His voice cuts into the abrupt silence, but your focus is on the closeness of his body rather than the state of your clothes and hair. “Come, sit by the fire.”

You wordlessly oblige, allowing him to lead you to one of the seats. In the low light, James’ muscles and veins are illuminated by the orange glow of the fire. Peeling off another damp layer, James takes your previously discarded clothing and lines it in front of the fireplace to dry.

“The snow must have melted.” You mutter, remembering the snowflakes and ice that had clung to your clothes and hair before you came inside. James hums in reply, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you, ensuring you are settled before finally pulling on a shirt. You sigh through your nose, half in relief and half in disappointment.

A comfortable silence falls as he takes a seat across from you. You could feel his gaze watching as you quietly unlaced your seal-leather snow boots. The leather was more successful at keeping out the creeping wetness and dampness of the snow. Without the blubber to insulate the cold, your toes felt frozen beneath your thick, woolen socks.

During the weeks of travel, you had found yourself hoping for a moment alone like this to talk after so much silence had passed between the both of you. Nearly daily, when you weren’t consumed by anxieties for the quickly approaching future, you would think back to that moment in the library and what you would say once you were alone.

Now that you were here, you were near speechless.

As you twisted the rings on your fingers, you recounted all of the questions and thoughts that had lingered in your mind for so long – so many conversations you wished to have with the King in front of you. You were unsure where to start.

“Why does Steve call you Bucky?” You ask, breaking the stillness. You mentally curse yourself at the bluntness of the question. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask the heavy questions: ‘Why did you come?’ or ‘What will become of us once this funeral is over?’. To your surprise, a gentle look crosses his face, and you lean back into your seat.

“It’s just a nickname I had as a child, I suppose there's some familiarity to it.” He replies with a light chuckle, running his hand up through his hair again as if in thought. You keep an intense gaze on him, distracted by the movement.

“I thought there was going to be a dramatic story.” You admit lightheartedly, finally breaking your stare. Maybe something soft and lighthearted was the way to start, to ease yourself back into the familiarity of conversation. You had spent so long silent; your jaw clenched as you rode through the snow each day. It was a wonder you even remembered how to form words and that your mouth hadn’t become frozen shut.

“No. I was always Bucky or Buck, and Steve was Stevie sometimes.”

“Stevie? That’s too cute for that brute.” You mutter, and James’ gives you a lopsided grin.

“I think it was because of Becca. She would call me Jamie sometimes, so naturally Steve was Stevie.” He explains, though there is a twinge of sadness in his tone. Your gut squeezes, an anxious reminder of the past and the grief attached to it.

“I wish I had been able to meet her.” Your words are gentle and slow, almost hesitant.

James stared long and hard into the fire for a time. “Becca? Well…she could be a mean, spoiled brat sometimes.”

You could sense the deflection in his words and tone. You had noticed that he rarely spoke of Rebecca, and when he did, it pained him. He rarely went beyond the surface, never talking of their relationship beyond the fact that they were siblings. You could understand not wanting to revisit such memories. You often treated the memories of your father in similar ways, holding them close to your chest as secrets only you could know.

“I think that is just the way with siblings. At least, that is what Peggy has told me.” You offer, lightheartedly.

“I think she’s right. As much of a brat as Becca could be, I still loved her.” A dark look comes over his face, and you watch as he clenches and unclenches his fist before speaking once more. “What were your nicknames?”

You don’t push the subject of Rebecca further, instead latching onto his latter question. “I never had any.”

“None? Really?” He asked in surprise.

You take a moment to think back and remember the warm, fuzzy memories of your childhood. You could remember running rampant through the halls of Fort Faliene, peeling off your stockings to wade in the waters near the dock. You could remember sitting on your father's desk, legs swinging through the air as you watched him organize his bookshelf, a half-played chess game abandoned nearby.

“My father used to call me a wild cat, or his little wild cat, like the snow leopards that live deeper in the mountains. It’s ironic to think back on now, considering the leopards are called Ghosts of the Mountain.” You hum in thought, that warm, fuzzy feeling replaced with something bitter in your chest as your mind moves closer to recent history. Your nails tap against the wooden arm of the chair.

“And then the endearing names turned to cruel ones, words to belittle me because of my gender and my culture. They called my mother the Lady of the Ghosts before me. She always shouldered it so easily, she would call me her Little Ghost.”

“Little Ghost?” James questioned you, his voice low as if he did not wish to interrupt your sudden openness.

“It was because the Haifordian’s said I was like a little ghost when we first left Faliene.” A sad smile plays across your lips as you recount the memory. “I was barely fourteen, my father was dead, and my home was ripped from me. When I couldn’t sleep in that terrible castle, I would wander the halls and gardens. The maids would go to my mother in the morning and say, ‘Your little ghost was wandering the halls again’, expecting her to reprimand me. My mother would just laugh at them and say, ‘She is a ghost, what do you expect?’–

“Sometimes she would join me at night. We would look at the moon and the stars in the garden. When the moon was visible, she would say, ‘Tonight is a high tide, the men will be bringing in the hauls’, as if we were still there, walking along the docks. That was before she got sick, of course… By the time I was sixteen, she was bedridden and had entirely forgotten who I was. That’s when I became the Lady of the Ghosts, not just the little ghost that haunted the halls of the Haifordian court.”

The silence that follows your words is deafening, with James watching you with a soft expression as you sigh sharply and lean back further into your seat.

“You carry a piece of her with you everywhere, then.” James speaks, his voice gentle. Your eyes flutter upward, surprised. “Every time your enemies mock you with those names, they are breathing life into her legacy. Your legacy.”

The wave of emotion that rolled over your body at his words was indescribable. You had felt fondness toward others before, but never to this degree. Your heart thumped in your chest as you swallowed hard, leaning forward in your seat. How could he take such a melancholic, painful memory and turn it into something of beauty? How could he take the anxiety clawing at your chest and simply replace it with calm?

Your hand reached out to grasp his, causing a fuzzy feeling in your gut and skull as you tried to figure out the words to say. Nothing came, nothing you could quite describe or express. Desire tingled across your skin as you contemplated clambering into his lap, allowing him to embrace you like he had in the library. Just you and him, his arms sheltering you from reality.

“James I–” You start, and his gaze is intense as he watches you creep closer. But as quickly as the moment began, it abruptly stopped. Your body jolted back involuntarily in fright as the door to the room slammed open.

You gaped as Steve walked in with a shit-eating grin, the exposed skin of his neck and collarbones dotted with quickly bruising love bites. James visibly deflates beside you, a tense breath leaving his nose sharply as he avoids eye contact with you. You try to ignore the hurt that squeezes your chest at that sight, instead turning your attention to a smug Steve.

“Steve!” You scold, clambering to your feet. “You are so lucky we have to dress heavy with the snow! If King Harrison caught you, he would have you head–”

“Y/N, relax. It’s fine, no one saw us.” Steve reassures you, almost immediately stealing your seat in front of the fire. You roll your eyes, slapping him on the shoulder as you shimmy past to pick up your clothing from in front of the fire.

James remains silent, locked in an intense stare with Steve as you hand your still damp clothing over your arm. Steve glances between the two of you with a quizzical yet knowing stare. You watch on in confusion as the two men seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes, James shaking his head at the blond. You reach down and collect your boots with a huff, deciding to exit the room before the sting of James’ sudden snub sets in.

“I am going to bed.” You say, noting James’ reluctance to catch your eye.

“Sweet dreams.” Steve hums, an even wider smile spreading across his face, watching as if he knew something you didn’t. All you can muster is a scoff, closing the door behind you without looking back.

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