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urloveada · 4 months ago

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UNDERSTOOD

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: joe goldberg x f!reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.9k+

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, p in v, edging, swearing, vibrator, ‘you belong to me’ vibes, dom/sub undertones; dom!joe, sub!reader. MDNI

𝓷/𝓪: not beta read, i apologize for any errors!! || my new bsf (🤫) has been dying for this fic; i really hope you enjoy!!

You and Joe finally decided to go out on a date. You’ve both been so busy with work lately you haven’t gotten to spend much time together. Joe’s working full time; you're working part time, but unfortunately your schedules barely line up.

It was Joe’s idea to come to this restaurant; this was where you met. So, it’s quite sentimental to the both of you. which is a big reason why your boyfriend is eyeing you angrily as you flirt with the young waiter.

Now in your defence, you didn’t mean for the flirting to start; it just happened. He came to take your order but could not keep his eyes off you. Of course Joe noticed; he notices everything, especially when it comes to you. And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joe clench his jaw in frustration, maybe even jealousy. So that’s when you decided to play along, for as long as Joe would let you, that is.

“Okay, your food will be ready in a few minutes. It might take a bit longer since we’re currently low staff.” The young waiter, whose name you learned is Elliot, tells you apologetically.

“It’s okay, baby; we aren’t in a rush,” you tell him kindly before he walks away, making sure you emphasize the word 'baby.'

Joe stares at you silently, trying to collect his thoughts before he speaks. “What are you doing?” The warning was clear: don’t do it again or you won’t like the consequences.

You stay silent, looking innocently at him, until he raises his eyebrows, indicating he’s expecting an answer.

“I’m just being polite; is that a problem?” You sass, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, you do NOT get to flirt with the waiter than sass me. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Joe asks sternly, keeping eye contact with you as you try looking away.

“Oh my, God, Joe. It’s not that big of a deal. Why are you being such a—“

“Okay, we have one order of the grilled chicken, with salad on the side,” Elliot cuts you off, bringing your food over, “and one order of steak and baked potatoes.” He slides Joe his dinner.

“Can I get you anything else? a refill on your drinks maybe?” Elliot offers the both of you. Joe notices Elliot’s hand slightly brushing against your shoulder but doesn’t comment on it.

Joe shakes his head no.

“No thanks, darling,” you say, smiling at Elliott as he walks away to take other orders.

Joe is now looking at you furiously. “This is your last warning. Do it again, and we’re leaving; do you understand me?” Joe demands, grabbing your chin so you’re making eye contact.

You nod your head, but roll your eyes while trying to wriggle out of his grip.

“uh, uh. eyes up here. I said, Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod your head. “I understand.”

Joe releases his grip and nods his head. “Now eat, please.”

_________

You and Joe eat your dinner peacefully, finally having the evening together Joe wanted. You are so close to finishing your meal without anymore distractions until Elliott comes over one last time to check on you.

“Is everything alright?” Elliot asks, sounding like he genuinely cares how your meal is.

“It was delicious, thank you,” you reply, setting the fork down and looking up at Elliot. “Wasn’t it good, Joe?" You turn to look at your boyfriend.

“Yes, it was. Thank you,” he says politely, despite how annoyed he is with Elliot.

“I’m glad to hear that!” Elliot replies happily, “Would you like me to get the bill now?” He asks, collecting your empty plates and utensils.

“Yes, love, that sounds wonderful,” you respond with the same level of enthusiasm.

Elliot leaves to get the bill, and you look over at Joe, not expecting to see him so angry.

“I have told you several times to knock it off. I am sick of you disrespecting me,” Joe says sternly.

He leans forward to whisper this last part so only you can hear.

“When we get home, you are being punished. I do not care how much you don’t want it; you will be punished for your actions, and that is final. Do you understand?”

You look at Joe bewildered. Sure, you wanted to push his buttons; angry sex is the best, is it not? but a punishment? That was something you didn’t expect.

"Yes, sir,” you respond sheepishly, “understood.”

_________

The drive home is silent, not even the sound of the radio going. You knew you were going to be in trouble, but not this much trouble.

I mean, really? a punishment?

That’s not necessary. Of course you’d never say this to Joe; he would not approve of this mindset.

when you finally arrive home and Joe parks the car in the driveway. There’s a moment or two of silence while he tries collecting his thoughts.

He turns to you and grabs your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look him in the eyes when he talks to you.

“When you go inside, I want you to strip completely and wait for me on the bed. I will be inside in a few minutes. Go.”

Joe releases his grip, and you scramble out of the car and inside the house, shutting the door behind you. You run up the stairs and go to your shared bedroom.

You strip off your clothes, put them in the laundry basket, and wait on the bed as Joe instructed.

You heard Joe walking up the stairs a few minutes after you sat down. He wasn’t stomping, which was a good sign.

Joe opened the door and looked to the bed, making sure you listened. “Finally learned how to listen, hm?” He teased, walking over to the bed to stand above you.

“Go get the vibrator,” Joe says sternly, pointing to the nightstand on the opposite side of you.

“Joe, please no,” you plead, making zero effort to do as you’re told.

“Now.”

You sigh and climb across the bed. opening the drawer aggressively and grabbing the vibrator. Sliding across the bed you had it to Joe, and once again start pleading.

“please, please! dont. I’ll be good, Joe.” You give him your best puppy eyes. “So good, I promise.”

His eyes soften slightly, and he rubs his thumb across your lips before leaning in and softly kissing them.

He pulls back and admires you for a moment before saying, “Lay down, on your back, spread your legs.”

You whine but obey him wordlessly, trying your best to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Good girl,” Joe turns on the vibrato to its slowest level and holds it between your legs.

You gasp and twitch at the sudden sensation between your legs but say nothing; instead, you grip the soft cotton sheets in order to hold still.

“Oh baby,” Joe coos, placing down the vibrator so it won’t move when he lets go. and sits down on a chair beside the bed. “This is only the beginning, and your already gasping and moaning?”

You glare at your boyfriend and begin to say something when your cut off by the vibration being turned up a level, using a remote Joe keeps with him.

“Joe,” you groan, struggling to keep still. You look over at your boyfriend to see him smiling at you, enjoying watching you struggle to keep your composure.

“hmm?” He hums, “What is it, baby?” Turning it up to the max speed, he asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Mmm, fuck,” you moan breathlessly, gripping at the sheets even harder.

“Use your words,” he tuts.

“Please, off,” you beg helplessly, “I'm going to come, please.”

“Uh, uh. No, your not.” Joe sits up and pushes the vibrator deeper, rubbing it up and down. “Only good girls get to come. Were you a good girl?”

You quickly shake your head no, hopeful that if you obey, you will get the reward of coming.

“No? No what, baby, use your words.” He says sternly but not coldly.

“No,” you groan in a mix of pain and pleasure. “No, I wasn’t a good girl.”

“No, you weren’t,” he agrees, stopping the movement of the vibrator and leaving it still once more. “What were you then? hmm?" joe prompts.

“Bad girl,” you answer, arching your back, trying to nonchalantly wiggle away from the vibrations.

“Yeah, you were a bad girl.” He notices your wiggles and once again moves the vibrator closer to your clit. “And do bad girls get to come?”

“No, they don't.” You give him your best ‘I’ll be a good girl’ eyes, but to no avail.

“No, they don’t. Does that mean you get to come?” he asks, finding pleasure in your constant gasps and moans.

“No.”

“No, you don’t.”

You gasp loudly, “Joe, I’m going to come. I can't fight it anymore.” You carefully grind on the vibrator, trying to bring yourself to the orgasm you so badly need.

Joe quickly puts an end to that nonsense by taking the vibrator away. “Oh, baby, wrong decision.”

Joe waits a few minutes to let you come down from your almost orgasm, then puts the vibrator right back between your thighs.

“Oh,” you gasp, gripping at Joe's wrists, your nails digging into his skin. “Please stop. I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg. At this point, you’re willing pretty much anything to get him to stop.

“yeah? you have?" He gently removes your nails from digging into him.

“Yes! Oh, God, yes.” you all but yell. “I’ll never, ever flirt with someone else again.”

“Yeah, I know you won’t,” he agrees, unbuckling his pants and pulling them off.

You watch Joe strip, just now noticing how hard he is. Joe pulls down his boxers, and his dick springs out.

Joe climbs on the bed with you and removes the vibrator. “Show me how much of a good girl you can be.”

You eagerly climb on Joe's lap and position yourself on his cock. Joe slides inside you easily.

“Hmm, so wet for me, yeah?” Joe teases, kissing your neck.

“Yes,” you reply, turning your neck to the side so he has better access, as you begin to rock back and forth on Joe.

He flips you over your laying underneath him while he starts pounding into your dripping wet pussy.

You whimper and dig your nails into Joe's back. “Joe,” you pant, “don’t stop, I’m close.”

He continues pounding you. “No one will ever make you feel this good,” he whispers in your ear. “Look at you, so needy for me.” He kisses your lips rather aggressively, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You moan in pleasure and run hand through Joe's hair, tugging on it, so his face is closer to yours.

You pull back from the kiss to moan out, “Joe, I’m going to come.” He continues, not slowing down his pace.

“Come for me, baby, that’s it. good girl,” he praises as you finish.

Joe comes shortly after and pulls out. You both flop on your backs, trying to catch your breath. After a minute or so, Joe turns to you. “I meant what I said. No one will make you feel as good as I do.”

You nod in agreement, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. “I know,”

Joe pulls you close; you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes.

“You’re mine; you got that?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Believe me, I won’t forget.”

𝓷/𝓪: requests are open!! feel free to use whenever you want.

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softpascalito · 2 months ago

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Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter IV

! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !

Spoiler-Free Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. Both have taken vows that make sure their paths may never cross. Until they do.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 12k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, More tags to be added

AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist

notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !

we are back! i really love where this is going, i hope you guys do too! feedback is very welcome as always (just don't be mean, i cry easily in case you can't tell from my writing). i have been to (the ruins) of the temple and the house of the vestals and have learned a lot about them so i hope i can strike the balance between making the fic intersting and adding some historic context, please let me know if this is working! also if you read this the day i post (december 3rd) happy bona dea hehe ♡

Mola Salsa – Ointment used during religious sacrifices Vale – Goodbye Salve – Hello Sacrosant – Untouchable (by law)

Chapter IV

“Have they assigned you for Bona Dea yet?” Severa is walking beside you, carrying a jug filled with fresh water from the sacred spring. Her step is light, even after the many hours she has spent at the temple today. The upcoming festival has been the talk of all of Rome, as it frequently is during the season where the air becomes colder and the occasional summer breeze turns into full-on storms. On the third of the last month, women in Rome celebrate the night of Bona Dea, the goddess that symbolizes chastity and fertility. A rare occasion where attendance is forbidden to men rather than women.

You nod softly in response to her question, turning the last corner before you reach the round temple of Vesta. “Yes. I am to help prepare the mola salsa. And I have been allowed to aid in carrying–” You pause, recalling that you are still in public. “Carrying the items to the place.”

Severa gives a nod, understanding the almost cryptic words. No one outside the circle, especially no man, is allowed to know which rituals you and the other priestesses undertake during the December night. At the mention of the assigned tasks, she falls into a one-sided but comfortable conversation, telling you her plans of preparation, though always being careful not to get too detailed. When you reach the steps that lead up toward the temple, she hands you the jug of water and bids you goodbye before heading the other direction. With her shift ended, she may retire to her quarters or spend her time however she likes. For you, the day has just begun–despite the sun already being halfway across the sky.

The smell of smoke and herbs greets you as you slip into the building, the only temple in the entire empire that holds no statue of its god or goddess. The flame is the only representation Vesta requires.

You start by collecting the rags you keep in a small cupboard off to the side of the large room, soaking them with the sacred water before kneeling down to begin cleansing the floor. Purity is more important for Vesta than anything, meaning that every day, the temple is cleaned, usually towards the evening when there aren't as many citizens coming to pray.

You work in silence, ignoring the way the cold stone hurts under your knees. It is a shift that requires much physical labor, but you are content to have the room to yourself today, the only company the shadows dancing on the stone walls beside you. You watch as they change, creating pictures and silhouettes that are gone before you can quite figure out what they resemble.

Your drifting thoughts are interrupted by the gentle thud of the oak door, followed by a small gust of air blowing through the room. You look up from where you are kneeling beside the flame, expecting one of the women that frequently come to pray with you. Instead, you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

Acacius looks a little lost, his broad frame dressed in his shiny golden armour, one that does not quite fit the space. He gives no indication of recognizing you, instead heading straight for one of the benches set out for the citizens. With an almost quiet grunt, he lowers himself into a sitting position and bows his head, his lips moving without producing any sound. He is praying.

You're not sure why you are so surprised. Maybe because you cannot recall ever seeing a General in the temple of Vesta or because his comments a few weeks ago did not make him sound like someone who prays much.

I prefer to put my trust in people.

You don't quite realize how openly you are staring at him until he raises his head just enough to glance your way. You bow your head so fast that you feel your muscles protest, the noises of the cackling fire joined by the one of you hurriedly wiping the floor.

You do not allow yourself another second of looking at him. Not a single one. Even when you stand and return the rag and jug to their respective places. Even when you gather a few pieces of wood in your arms and carefully add them to the flame.

It is not until you are standing with your back to the hearth, sorting some of the smaller twigs, that you hear him move. His voice is low when he speaks, like he is trying not to disturb the place around you and what it holds inside its walls. “Am I disturbing you?”

You are almost tempted to keep your back to him and give your response to the firewood below rather than him. But even the high status of a Vestal Virgin will not save you from punishment for disrespecting the General of the Roman army.

“No, of course not,” you respond politely as you turn around. “But I am afraid I do not have your will here. If you'd like to make further adjustments, I can locate it tomorrow and–”

“I did not come for the will,” Acacius says quietly, his brown eyes flying over your face. Once again, you feel like he can read you, like there is an inscription carved into your features the way it is below statues or over doors. Names, places, entire stories told in stone. It’s like yours is spelled out in a language only he can understand.

You pause, a moment of near silence passing between you. You are close enough to see the shadows dancing on his face now, the flame reflecting in his eyes.

“Then what did you come for, my General?” Addressing him sends a shiver through you again, the same way it did the last time you said goodbye. Calling him yours when he is so far from it.

“To pray.” A tiny smirk appears on his face and he looks almost … satisfied with himself. “It is what one does in a temple, is it not?”

You feel your cheeks heat slightly, despite the fact that you try and will them not to. “It is.” The next sentence tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “You took my advice then.”

Acacius raises a brow and you involuntarily hold your breath, awaiting what you expect to be a rather unfavorable reaction–when he laughs. Filling the temple that holds the most important hearth of the roman empire with a soft and gentle laugh. It feels wrong. It feels shameful and unfitting and yet, you feel like something stir inside of you at the sound. Slowly, his laugh dies down until you are left with a mere, gentle smile on his face as he looks down at you. “You are not as timid as you seem, are you now?”

Your blush deepens at that but a shy smile creeps onto your face nevertheless. “I was just–observing.”

“Yes. And do you do that often?” At your confused face, he adds: “Do you observe people often?”

“I did not say I observed people,” you half-whisper, suddenly realizing where this conversation is heading.

Does he know?

You have never considered that the conveniently short distance between your homes works both ways. Mainly because you can't imagine a man as important as Acacius interested in what the Vestals do. Maybe because you also can't imagine him as a man who simply observes–no doubt he finds what he longs for and demands for it. He is well known for his conquering of the southern areas.

“It is an imposing atrium,” he mutters quietly, his eyes carefully tracing your face. Waiting for a reaction. He’s about to speak again when you feel it.

The movement in your chest that felt comfortable until a moment ago, turns to ice. A shiver runs over your body and you step back so violently that your back hits the wooden cupboard and the jug that Severa had carried earlier, begins to sway. You feel Acacius brush past you, attempting to catch it but he is too late. His empty hand closes around air as the jug hits the floor and bursts into small pieces.

For a moment, you stay exactly where you are, your heart thumping as you fight against the cold dread that still fills your body. Acacius shifts beside you and you can feel his brown eyes on you. “I am sorry, I did not mean to scare you. Let me help–”

But you do not let him finish the offer. Instead, you whip around and lean down, beginning to gather the shards off the floor. “It is late,” you press out without looking up at him.

Now it’s the Generals turn to look confused. He pauses, blinking a few times. Before he can ask the question already forming in his throat, you motion toward the oak doors. “The sun will go down soon. Men are not allowed in the temple at night.”

It takes a few moments before Acacius nods, sending you a polite smile that feels very different from the one that decorated his face mere moments ago. “Of course. I do not wish to keep you.”

He turns swiftly, his uniform moving gracefully around him as he crosses the small room and slips out of the temple. The door falls shut with a thud, signifying once more how very alone you are.

You try to hold back tears as you fold your dress in your lap and begin to collect the shards in it. The salt water so dangerously close to high tide. It blurs your vision enough to grasp one of the larger shards the wrong way, a sharp pain searing through your hand as it cuts into your skin.

He probably only meant to pray.

He has a wife, a home. An army, soldiers and their families. A responsibility like that could make anyone turn to the gods, that much you know. And you scared him off, simply because your body had started acting of its own accord.

Almost as if in a trance, you fully sink to your knees in front of the flame, bowing your head so low that you can feel the coolness of the tiles below. Whispered words fall from your lips. But they are not merely just prayers. They are pleas for forgiveness. You cannot name what it is Vesta shall forgive you. You have done your duty, have not acted in any way that would not honor your vows. And yet, you feel that there is something you should seek forgiveness for.

When you stand again, you tread quietly, almost like you are tiptoeing around something. Balancing your weight on the edge of a bridge, trying desperately to stay still. The wind may not carry you away, no matter how tempting. You do not have wings. You will not fly. The only way off the ledge is the fall. One that you would not survive.

You shudder at the thought as you finish your duties as quietly and quickly as you can. You finish gathering the broken jug, wipe the floor once more and replace the wood. A small sigh of relief leaves your throat when you finally hear the door being opened again–and the eldest of the Vestals steps inside. She surveys the room, pausing as she spots the cupboard. “What happened?”

“I fell,” you answer quickly. “The water jug broke, I was carrying it. My apologies.” You bow your head, sending another silent prayer to Vesta to forgive you the lie. “I will arrange for a new one.”

She looks at you for a moment before nodding her head. “Very well. You may head back to the house. Walk by the potter and give word that we are in need of a new jug. I will stay until morning and have one of the girls pick it up in a few days time.”

“Of course. Vale.” Leaving a small bow and more whispered apologies at her feet, you step out of the temple, glad to put distance between you and the hearth.

It is by no means a far walk to the house of the potter that you task with everything the Vestals need. And yet, you'd much prefer to tread it while it is light. The city changes during the night, even in these safer parts of town. The streets are filled with those who wander the night and despite the fact that your palla demands immediate respect from those that cross your way, it is not a comfortable journey.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a few soldiers that seem to tail you and exhale a small breath, thanking the gods for sending men to protect you. You lose sight of them when you slip into the small alley that opens to the workshop of the potter. But the light inside is extinguished.

“Salve?” You give the door a gentle knock, waiting for a reaction from inside. But none comes.

With a resigned shrug, you turn to make your way back to the main road. It isn't until you have taken a few steps that you look up–and find your way blocked. The three soldiers have their eyes trained on you, their bodies wide enough that they cut off any chance of escape.

You feel your heart beginning to pound again but you force yourself to stay calm, giving a polite nod. They are soldiers. They are here to protect you. Then, the one in the middle opens his mouth.

“What business does a priestess have to be out at night all by herself?” He asks, cocking his head as his gaze shamelessly wanders over your body. The soldier to his right laughs in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Even standing feet away, you can smell the strong aroma of wine on his breath. There has not been any battle. Nothing has been won.

There is no reason for soldiers to celebrate.

“Why do they always pick pretty girls for Vesta?” The one with the foul breath complains. “True shame no one can touch them.” The other one laughs at the comment, taking a step toward you. You feel your back hit the wall. “Oh, you can touch them. You just have to demand for them to keep their mouth shut about it. I would really like to–”

You are spared the details of what this drunk man would like to do to you. Because in that moment, a voice booms out behind the soldiers, echoing slightly in the small alley.

“Soldiers. Step back.”

They whirl around and you think you see one of them ready himself to fight–that is, until the man the voice belongs to steps into the light. They may not respect a priestess. But they will respect Rome's General.

Yet, when they don’t move immediately, he barks out: “That is an order!” Their reactions are surprisingly fast for the state they’re in, the one on the right practically crashing into the wall in his hurry to obey.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asks, his voice so much lower and demanding than it was earlier at the temple. Any hint of the gentle, soft man you talked to is gone.

“We were worried for her safety,” one of the soldiers blurts out. What a way to spin it, you think to yourself. The only threat of your safety tonight has been them.

Acacius's eyes briefly meet yours and his face hardens slightly. He continues moving toward you, forcing the man next to you to step away hurriedly. “Move. And get back to your barracks, straight away.” They are halfway across the alley when he yells after them. “If I catch you bothering her again, I will make the battlefield seem merciful!”

Your knees quiver as you watch the soldiers turn the corner and a choked sound leaves your throat as you stumble. Being sacrosanct does not save you from being a woman. Nothing does.

“Hey, careful now.”

Acacius is by your side in an instant, his voice back to the gentle one you have gotten so used to. He bows down slightly and, without thinking and at seeing you sway, he gently places his arm around your waist, steadying you.

You do not move away this time. Heat radiates from his bare arms through the linen of your dress, igniting your skin below in a way that makes you feel like you are burning. But it is not uncomfortable. In fact, you find yourself leaning into the touch slightly as you catch your breath.

“Did they hurt you?” He asks quietly, a hint of anger still present in his voice.

You respond with a small shake of your head while Acacius carefully watches your every move. “No. No, they did not get a chance to.”

“They are damn fools,” he breathes, shaking his head in disbelief, rubbing small circles into your side with his thumb. “To even think about bothering you like that. A priestess doing her duty–” He turns enough to let his gaze wander over the abandoned street around you again. “This is not a way you should be walking alone at night.”

“The jug,” you whisper quietly. “I was to ask the potter to provide a new jug.”

A sigh leaves the General's lips at that, his grip tightening absent-mindedly. “A piece of clay is certainly not worth risking your safety, my lady.”

You bow your head, unsure how to respond. His fingers are still placed on your waist, still drawing invisible shapes into your stola. “I am sorry about–”

“You do not have anything to apologize for.” He mumbles, soft eyes gazing down at you. “If anything, I owe you an apology. Clearly, the gods are more trustworthy than men.”

Except, the gods did not save you. For the second time, you have a feeling that the person answering your silent prayers is not an ethereal being but rather a man made of flesh and bone. You shift slightly at the thought–and feel Acacius tense beside you.

“They did hurt you,” he whispers, not once hesitating as he lets go of your waist to kneel down and reache for your hand, his gaze focused on the red line that runs across your palm. “Let me see, please.”

“Oh–” You hold your hand up for him but you shake your head. “It was not them. I cut myself on one of the shards earlier, in the temple.” But his focus rests entirely on your hand. You feel a blush creep up your neck as he turns your palm slightly, running his index finger over the freshly scabbed line.

“You should have wrapped it. It may get infected,” he adds quietly and before you can so much as protest, he has reached down and ripped a shred of fabric from his undercloth. His calloused hands are careful and gentle as he begins to wrap it around your palm, tightening it slightly. “Does this hurt?”

You feel like your entire body is vibrating under his touch. His skin on yours, no matter how little, no matter how briefly. It has a fire burning in your chest, threatening to spill out from between your ribs or travel through your throat. The smoke of it blocks your airways and your attempt to speak fails. Instead, you just shake your head and watch as Acacius, at your signal, continues.

“There. Much better.” Your hand is still resting in his palms and he bows down slightly, as if to kiss your fingers. But just before he does, he stiffens slightly and quickly pulls back.

One does not kiss a Vestal's hand. One does not even touch a Vestal. And yet, you can so clearly feel the fire burn on every inch of your skin where his body has met yours.

Acacius clears his throat and nods toward the main road. “I will escort you home. I may not offer the protection of the gods but I can offer that of my sword.”

“Thank you, General Acacius,” you whisper, bringing your freshly bandaged hand back down. You walk beside him as you slowly make your way through the night air, avoiding the busy roads slightly more than you have on the way here. He knows his way around.

You have already reached the Forum when you finally speak, watching as the smoke from the temple rises to your left as you turn onto Via Nova. “I would like to apologize, for before.”

Acacius cocks a brow. “Before?”

“Before. When I sent you out of the temple. You are welcome to come and pray of course. I was–” You shake your head softly. “I was merely surprised.”

You watch as his face twists into a small smile at that and he nods. However, you both stay silent as he leads you toward the house of the Vestals. When you reach the columns that line the front of it, he stills, leaning forward in a hint of a bow. “Thank you for allowing me to see you back safely.”

“I have to thank you.” You respond quietly, turning to face him. You feel like you want to add something else but the words get stuck in your throat. His hand hovers again, the same way it did the time he welcomed you at his home. Always careful to keep a small, appropriate distance between the two of you. What happened in a dark, secluded alley suddenly seems miles and miles away.

“Good night, my lady.”

With that, Acacius turns and continues up the road.

“Good night, my General,” you whisper only for the cicadas to hear.

notes: thank you for reading. feedback, reblog and comments all very, very welcome ♡

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phantomstatistician · 8 months ago

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Danganronpa - Himiko Yumeno

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The 100 - Clarke Griffin/Lexa most popular AU tags (AO3)

Megamind - 10 most popular tags (AO3)

Community - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Encanto - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Twisted Wonderland - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Mystery Science Theater 3000 - 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Star Trek: Lower Decks - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Baldur's Gate - 10 most popular ships (AO3), Raphael, Cazador Szarr, Zevlor

Percy Jackson - 10 most popular ships (AO3), Percy Jackson

Fire Emblem Awakening - Lucina, Severa

Descendants - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Into the Spider-Verse - Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen

Harry Potter - Remus Lupin

Naruto - 10 most popular tags (AO3), Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Persona 3 - Akihiko Sanada

Powerpuff Girls - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Formula One (RPF) - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Yellowjackets - Lottie Matthews

Chainsaw Man - Denji, Aki

Addams Family - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular platonic ships (AO3)

Delicious in Dungeon - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Wicked - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Kill La Kill - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Persona 5 - Sumire Yoshizawa, Yusuke Kitagawa

Mario - Pauline

Undertale - 10 most popular ships (AO3) (no OCs, selfcest, or x Reader)

Invincible - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Chainsaw Man - Power

Soul Eater - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

RWBY - Jaune Arc, Oscar Pine

Women's Football/Soccer - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Project Sekai - Nene Kusanagi

DuckTales - 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Leverage - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Dr. Who - Fifteenth Doctor

Legacies - Lizzie Saltzman

Black Clover - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Xenoblade Chronicles - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Arcane League Of Legends - Viktor

Canon - Anime vs Canon - Manga - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Mario - Bowser

X-Men - Magneto/Erik Lehnsherr

Have a more elaborate request? Or want to jump the queue? Or you want to support me as a content creator? Buy me a Kofi!

#saturday status update

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marshravenblog · 8 days ago

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Diabolik Lovers – Ayato

Categoria: História curta/one shot

Tags: One shot, fanfict, fanfic, fic, diaboys x reader, diaboys x S/N, Ayato x S/N, fluffy, soft, vampire x human, female reader, romance, provocações, fofo, teasing, soft, cute, comfort.

Você foi ter um dia de compras com algumas amigas e mal viu as horas passarem. Vocês se divertiam muito juntas, então era impossível querer ir embora e deixá-las. Depois de passar um dia perfeito com elas, você volta pra mansão pra tomar um banho, jantar e descansar.

Você, assim que entra na casa Sakamaki, percebe que o menino de cabelos rosados, Ayato, está no divã da sala deitado e dormindo. Você ri pra si mesma, pensando que ele costumava fazer bastante aquilo, e vai acordar seu namorado. Ele se senta assim que você chega perto o bastante.

- Aonde você estava!?

- A-aah você me assustou, Ayato!

- Eu perguntei aonde você tava! Perdeu a noção, foi!? Eu te esperei durante horas pra gente ficar junto como um casal!

- Eu sei, desculpa, eu perdi a hora.

- Tch você é sempre tão distraída, vive no mundo da lua! Eu vou ter que ficar te arrastando pras coisas é? Te lembrando de tudo, que nem uma agenda ou um calendário?!

- Seria bom sim, mas não precisa, eu me cuido. Pera, como assim lembrar das coisas? Eu esqueci uma data importante?

- Uma data não, mas você esqueceu algo muito importante sim.

- O que?

Ele segura seu braço e te puxa pro divã com ele, ficando por cima. Seus olhos esverdeados como os de sua mãe te encaram com seriedade e aspereza.

- Você é minha, ouviu? Gosto que esteja aqui pra ficar abraçada comigo e ser minha namorada do jeito certo. Eu não ligo se você tem que sair, só não demora.

Você sorri, travessa.

- Você fica fofo assim, com ciúme.

- Tch você vai ver o fofo. Não me deixe esperando de novo, entendeu? Essa é a última vez que te dou esse aviso.

- E se eu demorar sem querer?

Ele sorri largamente e com o mesmo nível de travessura que você.

- Simples, vou punir você.

Você cora de leve e ele ri.

- Quem é a fofa agora?

- Humpf calado, você só tá é me desconcentrando, só isso. Gosta de fazer isso.

- O tempo todo, panquequinha. Você é só minha, precisa entender isso e agir como tal.

Segurando seus ombros com uma certa firmeza, mas não te machucando, ele se abaixa e te beija. Parecia que estava mostrando o quão bom ele era naquilo, e realmente era, então não havia motivos para você não aproveitar aquela situação e curtir o momento com ele. Ayato e você, após esse tempinho juntos, vão pra cozinha se arriscar e acabam queimando uns biscoitos. Ayato bufa de frustração.

- Ah nem, o Reiji vai reclamar comigo depois..

- Com você? Ele vai me matar...

- Não se a gente estiver ocupado..

Ayato te puxa pelo braço, bem a tempo do Reiji chegar na cozinha, e vocês vão pro quarto dele passar a noite. Não demorou muito pro mais velho aparecer ali, sua expressão severa de sempre ainda mais rígida pelo incidente com a comida, mas não durou muito. Logo você e seu namorado puderam passar o tempo que queriam um com o outro e dormir abraçados, de conchinha, com a Lua pairando alta e esplendorosa no céu noturno.

#writing #escrita #writers on tumblr #fanfic #female reader #x reader #diabolik lovers #dialovers #diaboys #rejet #ayato sakamaki #ayato x reader #diabolik lovers ayato #ayato x y/n #ayato x you #vampires

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thewhiterabbit42 · 7 years ago

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It looks like I’ll have one of the other drabble requests finished for tomorrow night, which means y’all have some Debriel x reader headed your way 😉

#FINALLY #i’ve been playing arounf with Debriel x reader for the last severa weeks #and i havent finished a damn thing #until now #🎉#i hope you guys like it #all two of you that are in this ship with me XD

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noramoons · 2 years ago

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nothing compares to you.

pairing: song mingi x fem reader (afab)

genre: smut, fluff, non-idol!au, established relationship

rating: mature/18+ (minors DNI).

word count: 3.2k

warnings: explicit smut [fingering, slight somnophilia?, praise, unprotected sex, wet dreams], language

summary: you’re relieved when you wake up from a nightmare—especially once you realize mingi has been having a much, much different kind of dream than you.

You're falling.

You'd been climbing up this steep, rocky cliff for as long as you can remember, jagged rocks digging into your palms and dirt making its way underneath your fingernails as you ascend, paying for each brutal inch upwards with your own sweat and tears—but you're exhausted. You've gone too far, for too long. And you've slipped. You're falling.

You don't even remember how you'd gotten up to the edge of that cliff in the first place, where you'd been going or where you'd come from, but you're certainly careening off of it now, accelerating with the wind in your hair as you plummet towards the water at the bottom of the cliff face, unable to shut your eyes even as you brace yourself for the impact—

You blink, eyes adjusting to the darkness of your bedroom. A dream—it was just a dream. A nightmare, more likely, but still nothing more, even as your heartbeat continues to pound in your chest as the adrenaline wears off.

You're brought further back to reality when you feel the weight draped across your stomach—Mingi. His arm, to be more precise, slung across you but still holding you as close to his chest, to him, as possible, even as he sleeps.

You smile a little at the thought, taking even breaths to calm yourself down from the nightmare. You try to match your breathing to the soft snores of the man behind you, breathing in as deep as you can through your nose before exhaling out of your mouth, finally feeling that fear and tension begin to fade from your body.

"Mmmph," Mingi suddenly whispers, and you turn your head across the pillow to face him—but you're surprised to see his eyes still squeezed shut. He's still asleep. But you can see that his eyebrows are furrowed, even in the dark, as if he's concentrating on something as he sleeps.

The next time he speaks, you understand his words much more clearly.

"Y/N," you hear him say, a frown suddenly tugging the corners of his lips down, and you find yourself frowning at him too. Mingi might be having a bad dream just like you had been—so you start to turn further to your side in an attempt to wake him up, but he only holds you tighter against him, fingers wrapped around the fabric of the front of your shirt.

"Y/N," he says again, this time directly in your ear—and this time the tone of it sounds much more familiar. Desperate, almost.

You start to suspect that he isn't having a bad dream at all. And your suspicions are confirmed when you feel him roll his hips against you, gasping into your ear as he does so.

Oh.

His fingers dig tighter into the material of your shirt, holding you impossibly closer to him still. Your eyes widen when you hear him groan your name again, still fully and wholly asleep. "Please," you think you hear him add.

His hips rock against you once more, and there's no doubt at all in your mind as to the contents of his dream once you feel the hardness against your ass. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep the sharp inhale that leaves your throat as quiet as possible.

The torture continues for what feels like an eternity—Mingi practically moaning into your ear, gasping out words you occasionally understand while his grip across your body keeps you from moving. You can only take so much, though, and it's not long before a real groan escapes you too at the panting you hear behind you.

The moment you'd been trapped in shatters immediately, however—the instant you make a noise, Mingi stirs.

"Y/N?" he mumbles, sounding much more like he usually does in the morning and not at all like what you'd just heard against the shell of your ear for the past several minutes. "What time is it?"

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself as you turn your entire body now to face him. "I'm not sure," you say.

Mingi frowns. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry."

You wave his words away, biting back the grin that threatens to tug at your lips. "What were you dreaming about?" you ask, as innocently as possible.

Mingi, however, doesn't hesitate. "You," he answers.

The boldness makes your cheeks flush, and you see him grin when he notices. But you press him further. "What about me?"

"We were in a house—ours, I think. Just us."

"Just us, huh?" you repeat, grinning a little at the thought. You don't mind Mingi's housemates at all—they've all been nothing but exceptionally nice to you since you've met them, and from what you can tell, they keep the apartment fairly clean. But the thought of a home with Mingi, with just the two of you, is still something out of a dream.

He nods. "It was early morning. I could see the sun in the kitchen windows—you were in there with me, making coffee for the two of us."

You're amazed that he's kept up the pretense for so long. "And?" you ask, poking him in the side as you press him for further details.

Mingi laughs softly at you, wrapping one hand around your wrist to stop your incessant jabs. "And I bent you over the counter."

Oh. Fuck, that was hot—Mingi's not always one for dirty talk, so to hear him state so casually what he'd done to you in his dream sends heat blooming between your legs.

Your reaction isn't lost on him, either—his grin widens when he sees the way yours suddenly falls. "Were you dreaming about anything?"

You let out a laugh. "I was falling off a cliff, I think. Nothing nearly as fun as yours," you add with a wink.

But Mingi frowns. "A cliff?" He pulls you closer to him, as if to reassure the both of you that you're not doing anything of the sort. "I'm sorry, love. I wish we could have switched dreams."

You make a face at that. "I don't. I'm rather glad you woke me up that way, actually."

His eyes widen. "Oh. Shit. I woke you up...like that?" Funny, how much shyer conscious-Mingi can be than his sleeping self.

But you just shrug. "If you really want to make it up to me, you can touch me," you ask, as sweetly as you can. "Dream-you may have been fucking me over a counter, but real-you just teased me for what I think was the greater half of ten minutes."

Mingi laughs. "Alright, alright," he says. "I'd could never leave you hanging like that. I'll get right to work." He winks before leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek, then your jaw, your chin, before he finally lands against yours, kissing you gently while one of his hands skims down to the waistband of the shorts you've slept in. He dips lower, circling your clit with his thumb before his long index finger swipes over your entrance—and he breaks the kiss, smirking once he feels how wet you already are.

"Needy, hmm?" he asks, warm breath dancing along your jawline as he works his fingers against you. "Near-death-experience dreams got you all worked up?"

You try to let out a scoff, but it turns into a choked out moan when he finally pushes a long, slender finger inside of you. "More like you moaning in my ear for ten minutes—nghh, fuck, Mingi," you sigh, his name spilling from your lips as he pushes another finger deeper in you, rubbing against your slick walls.

He doesn't say anything in response this time, but you can practically feel the cheeky grin above you as he continues his ministrations, pushing in and out of you at an increasingly teasing pace, going from a gradual build to wrenchingly slow—and you aren't sure how much more of it you can take when he curls a finger up against you, exactly where he knows how to get a reaction.

"Shit," you say, feeling that all-too familiar flame burning its way through your chest. "Mingi. I need you."

He doesn't stop, but he slows the pulse of his fingers rubbing against you. "You have me," he says, feigning confusion. You know he knows what you want. You also know that he just wants to hear you say it.

And you think you've had enough teasing for one night—so you don't hesitate to groan out, "Fuck me. Please."

It's dark in your shared bedroom, but your eyes have adjusted enough that you can practically see Mingi's eyes dilate at your words. "So polite," he says, brushing a kiss to the bottom of your chin. "How could I ever say no to that?" His lips glide over yours once again, greedily trying to consume as much of you as he can as he yanks your shorts down to your knees before tugging his own underwear off (and partially to distract you from the stretch of him pushing his length between your legs as it replaces his fingers).

You still moan out against his lips, breath heavy against his when he bottoms out, hips resting against yours. Mingi smirks. "Always sound so pretty for me."

You, however, feel a twinge of embarrassment the minute the sound leaves your mouth—but its not due to either of you. "Your housemates heard us last time, you know," you remind him, cheeks burning at the memory of the text you'd received from Wooyoung, who sleeps in the room beside Mingi's, asking you to please let him have at least one night this week where he wouldn't be awakened by the two of you.

His cheeks redden too, but he shakes his head at you, smirking all the while. "You'll just have to be quiet, then," he whispers.

That causes a smirk of your own to tug at your lips. "I'm not worried about me being loud."

And that, of course, Mingi takes as a challenge. It's half an instant after he realizes your words that he grabs hold of your waist with one hand to steady himself as he starts to roll his hips into you, easing himself at an achingly slow pace.

"Feel so good," you hear him gasp into your ear—quieter than usual, but the words alone are enough to send a shiver of lust through your veins. "So damn tight."

You're practically biting your tongue to the bottom of your mouth to keep your groans from escaping. He knows exactly what you want to feel. What you want to hear.

Damn him.

You link your arms around his neck before pulling him down into a bruising kiss, swallowing his moans and yours in a clash of tongues and teeth while Mingi continues rocking in and out of you with careful, almost teasing thrusts, and it's not long before you feel that initial spark of pleasure in your veins melt into something more—an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and warmth growing from between your legs that moves up, lust working its way through your every fiber until all you can think about is this want—this need—and how badly you want him to move faster.

So you concede. For now. "Mingi," you gasp, fingers curling in his hair and scraping against the back of his scalp. "Need you."

You don't miss the way his breath hitches as you tighten your hands in his hair. "You need me? To do what?" he asks, putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, truly, as he tilts his head to the side in confusion, all while still rolling his cock in and out of you at an achingly slow pace.

"Faster, Mingi," you cry out, planting your metaphorical white flag in the sand. "Please. You said you'd fuck me." You nearly pout as the words leave your lips.

He grins from above you—that toothy grin that makes you feel the same warmth you'd get from a fireplace on a snowy day, all safe and protected and loved. The sudden spread of affection in your chest at the sight almost makes your heart skip a beat—almost as much as the sudden kiss Mingi presses to your lips. It's not at all like the ones before; rather, the pressure of his lips against yours is nearly chaste, delicate—as if he was afraid you might break against him.

When he pulls away, you see that that loving grin has melted into something else altogether—something much more familiar to see on your back like this. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes," you plead, nearly in tears. "Please—"

But you don't have to say anything else before he finally, finally takes you at the pace the two of you both want. God—when he'd been gasping in your ear half-asleep earlier, you hadn't ever thought you'd get this far. Maybe a heated kiss with both of your hands down the other's pants—which wouldn't exactly be a new situation for either of you on a morning that you both have off from work. But it's rare for both of you to both want each other this badly right after waking up.

You can analyze the moment later, you suppose—when Mingi isn't grabbing the backs of your knees to fold your legs and push them further up your chest, thrusting into you deeper and without mercy, like he is now, pounding into you harder and making you see stars with each cry that leaves your lips.

He's won, you think—no doubt about it. And he knows it, too, if the unrelenting nature of his soft groans against your shoulder contrasted with the bruising grip he's leaving on your thighs is any indication. "So goddamn pretty," he says, groaning your name when he feels you tighten around him at his words. "Love having you like this, all for me—fuck, Y/N—"

"Shit," you gasp, feeling yourself rapidly approaching the edge. "Mingi—fuck, I'm close," you warn him, as if he couldn't already tell.

Mingi moans with you at those words. "Come with me, then," he murmurs against your skin, practically pleading. "Please—wanna feel you fall apart with me."

He skims a hand down your stomach, lightly, gingerly—as if you're something delicate, something precious to be treasured—before working a long, calloused finger against your clit, moving in small, slick circles before the knot below your stomach finally snaps and you come, hard, with a cry of Mingi's name and your fingers leaving marks on his shoulders.

He isn't far behind you, leaning down to sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder to silence his moans, snapping his hips against yours two, three, four more times before he stills within you, painting the insides of your walls white as both of you cry out again—calling out each other’s names in a moment of completely euphoric harmony.

It’s quiet for a moment—one singular, solitary moment as the two of you catch your breath, before Mingi’s pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your hair before slowly pulling out of you, rolling out of the bed only to return seconds later with a warm washcloth.

He lavishes affection on you as he gently cleans you up—like he always does. “Thank you,” he says, kissing the side of your knee tenderly. Longingly. “I love you.”

Your chest swells, and you quickly grab at his shoulders to bring his face back up to yours, kissing him as gently as you can. “I love you too,” you breathe against his lips.

He beams at you, and you’re suddenly reminded of how the two of you ended up in this situation, fully awake in the dead of night, in the first place. “So?" you ask, fixing your gaze on him as you try (and fail) to keep a serious expression. "How'd that compare to your dream?"

Mingi lets out a laugh almost immediately at the very notion, wrapping an arm over your side as he rolls over with you, bringing you back to his chest in an embrace before pulling away enough to lock eyes with you.

"Nothing compares to you," he says quietly, and the sudden seriousness in his tone makes you still for a moment. At least, it does—until he opens his mouth again. "You're just the real deal, you know," he adds, punctuating the end of his sentence with an over-exaggerated wink and a soft kiss to your forehead. Cheesy enough to eat.

You roll your eyes, shoving him lightly (but not moving your hand away from his chest afterwards). "That's a relief, then," you quip, and Mingi hums in agreement, pressing you closer to his chest again. It's a comfortable silence that the two of you sit in after that—fully aware of the other's breathing finally returning back to normal, feeling Mingi's heartbeat against your cheek as he keeps you close.

That's why it almost feels like a shame when you break that silence only a moment later. "You know, I...I don't think it was all unrealistic. Your dream, that is," you clarify, looking up at Mingi from your position curled up beside him.

He tilts his chin down to look at you. "What do you mean?"

You shrug. "I think I can see us like that too. What you were describing—the two of us in our own place. Maybe somewhere out in the country where it would be quiet and calm, or an apartment in the city where we could walk to everything. I don't...I don't think it would matter where it was, really, as long as you were there too."

The words spill out before you can stop them—there's something about what you feel with Mingi now that leaves you an affectionate mess. The magic of the afterglow, you suppose. Then again—he always makes you feel this way, doesn’t he? Supported, and encouraged, and loved? It’s nothing out of the ordinary around Mingi—and that makes you want to make that dream a reality even more with him.

Besides—he clearly doesn't see you as a mess, despite how you may feel. Mingi doesn't even give you a chance to feel embarrassed at your sudden words before he's swooping down and pressing a kiss against your lips, gentle and loving as he cradles your cheek in one hand. When he pulls away, you see it again—that endearing, warm grin that he wears from ear to ear that makes you feel like you've achieved an award by causing it to appear on his face. That beautiful expression, that you caused. "I'd like that too," he says. "All of it. Especially the ending of that dream," he adds, and you laugh with him. Unbelievable. You've just slept together.

"I'll make it happen," he says, suddenly. "We both will. I believe in us, you know?"

You do know. Because you believe in him too.

You fall asleep wrapped in his arms, content with your chin nestled against his shoulder and his even breathing against your skin. So content that you don't even hear the buzz of your phone on the nightstand beside you, a notification you won't even see until the morning.

J.W

> you two owe me earplugs.

a/n: hi besties🧍long time no fic! it’s been an. interesting several months for me LMAO but i think ive finally plowed through some writers block with this fic! it’s nice to work on a oneshot every once in a while instead a bigger dedicated series, so i hope you enjoyed this little steamy mingi oneshot. i do have several more works for ateez on the way—both oneshots and a longer series—so i hope y’all will look forward to those too if you enjoyed this!

i also hope everyone is having a safe and happy holiday season so far! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 💛 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @luv-quinn

©️ noramoons 2021-2022. do not translate or reupload my writing.

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frickingnerd · 1 year ago

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arguments with severa

pairing: severa x gn!reader

tags: stubborn tsundere!severa, severa is bad at feelings/admiting she's at fault, angst with an open/happy ending

no matter what the two of you argue about, according to severa, it's always your fault!

she almost never admits to her mistakes and instead shifts all the blame to you

she's simply too stubborn to admit that she has made a mistake, at least when it comes to being vocal about it

deep down, severa is well aware that she's the one at fault

but she only admits it to herself once all the damage is done and she can't take back the things she said

by then you're usually already leaving, needing a break from her and severa just watches, while you pack your things

she always wants to grab you by the wrist whenever you storm through the door and pull you back into her arms

but she knows she wouldn't be able to get out an apology then and there

she needs some time to calm down before she can apologize

though often she won't even get to apologize, as you two just attempt to ignore your last argument and things just return to normal after a while

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multifandomwhore-003 · 2 years ago

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Sunshine, nice to meet you²

Pairing: bisexual! JJ Maybank x bisexual! female! reader because I'm bi and I said so

Summary: You stole JJ's snack for the night, and he's not happy about it

Genre(s): Smut

Warnings: mentions of weed and alcohol, implied smut (fxf), explicit sex, switch! reader, switch! JJ Maybank, fingering.

A/N: Thank you sm @severa-kane for the help, everyone thank her bc this wouldn't exist without her, love you babes.

Taglist: @pankowfruitsnacks @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @fdl305 @rafecameronswhore @prettiestgirlontheblock @barbiekatz @gabiatthedisco @l-o-v-r-s @kaitieskidmore1 @slutsinthestoneage @llpovi @slutsinthestoneage join the taglist here

Gif credits to whom they belong

Part one on the masterlist!

𓆉︎𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𓆉︎

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

Reblog if you like

The glitch of surprise that suddenly your face presented was new, you were used to saying reckless shit all the time without a second thought or a glimpse of regret, however, you were now both in unknown territory. Perhaps a few sexual innuendos were shared between the two of you a couple of times, but you were always companioned by the other pogues, never in such intimacy or silence despite the music blasting from outside. Your eyes locked with one another; you took a sharp breath and closed your sight which served as a confirmation of a moment of vulnerability, you almost choked on your second hit when you heard the door lock and before you had a chance to protest, he snatched the weed off your fingers.

"What if I do?" Through all the snarkiness and confidence that was now transpiring through his body, his voice managed to betray him with a hint of hesitancy before inhaling the burnt plant.

You gulped, —Better death than a fucking coward— your dad used to say that fucking little phrase all the goddamn time, so much so that he ended up in a wheelchair, but a hero nonetheless, and just like him, those simple words felt right this second like the death of you, "Sure you wanna play the teasing game, Barbie? You won't keep up," you whispered almost campily.

"Words aren't the only thing that I'm good at 'Sunshine'," he grabbed your jaw gently before joining your lips and exhaling in your mouth the dense smoke.

A nerve you had never in your life felt snapped from the bottom of your lip all the way down to your belly while you inhaled rather shyly, an action that could cost you the certitude of your stern glance.

What was it about JJ Maybank that just now, he was the cause of your entire body betraying your very being? Every second of every minute, of every hour, of every day that you’ve spent completely uninterested in him, was now as useless as the effort you were putting into building up the tension. But if you had to, if you really had to, if you were gonna fuck JJ Maybank at the chateau’s bathroom, the least it could be was as fucking earth-shattering as your brain had presented it to you for a while, a really funny contrast to what hanging out with him in a more normal scenario felt like.

If you had to put it in words, JJ Maybank felt like being trapped in a black room filled with neon lights and your favorite songs of all times blasting in your ears, like your favorite breakfast being served to perfection with the strongest and sweetest cup of coffee on the side, like a stormy beach with the most beautiful sunset, like a warm shower at 3 am in the middle of a party; chaotic, comfortable, mesmerizing; you were used to finding comfort in chaos, comfort in who you were, comfort in this specific word that couldn't describe you better.

Perhaps what made this situation appealing was finally seeing the two of you in a different light, desperate, needy, yet still proud enough to contain your impulses, even when you separated, you held back, not out of fear, but out of pure, raw enjoyment that obviously helped to pent up as much anticipation as you could.

"That wasn't too bad now, was it?" you tucked his hair behind his ear, "You still managed to taste what she left on me,"

"Where else is she?" he almost groaned.

"Why don't you figure it out, baby?"

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"Me?" you asked innocently, "Projecting isn't a good look on you JJ, we both know you've wanted this since before Kiara and I broke up,"

"You've been taunting me for months, you've also wanted this,"

"Maybe, the difference is I haven't done a shit job at hiding it, because I wasn't even trying," you confessed, "Truth is I've been dreaming about it, constantly, I'm surprised you've never noticed considering how loud I sound in my mind," you guessed by his dilated pupils that you've won control, "So, speak now, or forever hold your pea-"

He cut off the distance so brutally you had no choice but to moan in response, out pleasurable pain, the same sensation you were quick to reciprocate by tugging on his hair rather harshly, so much so that he really groaned this time, he proceeded with this mellifluous reaction down your throat without forgetting to ever so slightly press his fingertips on the naked mushy muscles he could reach. You practically ripped his already damaged shirt off, feeling plastic flying out of your almost ancient button-up.

By the time he reached the knot on your bikini he got patient, still wanting to make a full show out of the whole situation, delicately separating the cloth from your breasts and dropping it possibly in the shower. He bent down just enough to have you at the top of his vision. His ragged skin brushed everything in between where he began and his goal. Out of nothing but pure spite, he got knuckle-deep in you without a warning or even so much as a look.

“Fuck,” you murmured holding on to the edge of the stone.

Satisfied with your response he did it again, capturing your lips on his, as you moaned on to him, he started to fuck you with his fingers whilst slightly crooking them to tease your spot. His other hand sneaked behind your neck pulling you closer, he wanted more of you, he wanted all of you, something in his mind could only beg for more, he wanted everything, having power over you, allowing himself to feel powerless, anything he could get to fulfill his pleasure right now and for as long as he could hold on to you desiring him as well.

You gathered all strength you could to start undoing his pants like you had all the time in the world.

“Wasting no time I see, good girl,” he nodded in approval, he only paused for a split second to taunt you more.

You paused at his underwear, just sightly bothering the edge but two could play that game, as if faking lack of skill, he clumsily let his tips dance around your tied bikini pieces, he eventually undid them but not before you lowly whined out of desperation.

“Jesus Christ, ‘Sunshine’, all of this for me? No wonder your mom’s an artist, you’re her ultimate masterpiece,”

You didn't answer, instead hazily wondered why it took you so long to not be such a prideful asshole and get properly fucked by JJ Maybank.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader

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softpascalito · 1 month ago

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Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter VII - Bona Dea

! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 18k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, Smut, First Time, More tags to be added

AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist

notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !

i was supposed to upload this two days ago but silly me decided to have a mental breakdown instead. anyways, enjoy the new chapter ♡

bona dea - a goddess/her festival subligaculum - underwear

Chapter VII

The house is filled with the overpowering scent of strong wine and blooming flowers. Food and drink is being served, the atrium of the roman villa that belongs to the senior magistrate and his wife transformed into a place of worship as much as a place to celebrate.

The annual winter festival of Bona Dea, one of the most important (and as some argue, fun) nights of the year for the women of Rome. A tribute to the goddess that promises fertility along with chastity and healing, in return asking for her worshippers to hold the values of a good, roman wife. Her celebrations allow strong wine and sacrifices led by the Vestals and most importantly–ban all men from the villa and its grounds. Just laying eyes upon the holy celebration and the rites would be enough to condemn a man to a life of blindness.

It is so different from the worship you are used to from Vesta. She is quiet, a prayer whispered into the flames, the crackling noise of the wood, the only company for women who ask for safety and blessing on lonely nights.

You have barely been able to eat, despite the food seeming worthy of the gods. Bona Dea has always made you nervous, the prospect of trying to effortlessly fulfill the rituals that have been passed down from generations of women before you. But the prospect of meeting Acacius in mere hours had you trembling the moment you rose from your bed this morning. The hours seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly all day, making you wonder if the sun would ever set.

But it did. And with the early darkness of the winter night came the loss of appetite. And the later it becomes, the worse you feel. The comfortable anticipation starts mixing with an anxiety you’ve rarely felt before. Nothing can go wrong.

Of course, something goes wrong. When you reach the large front entrance of the atrium, the one you hoped to slip out of unnoticed after fulfilling your duties, is far too busy. The columns are decorated with skillfully woven vines, the entire room alight with candles and torches. A thin layer of smoke still hangs in the air from the rituals you conducted earlier, making the space feel even more sacred.

You settle on making another round, speaking some words here and there, disappearing into a crowd that has evidently already enjoyed the strong wine forbidden to them on other occasions. You catch a glimpse of Severa chatting animatedly with a few other women and duck away just in time to avoid attracting their attention.

It is already late, far later than you meant to leave. You know Acacius will be waiting. He has no rites to attend to tonight. Instead, he will be able to casually stroll out into his–

The gardens. Just like the other houses, there are spacious gardens attached to the villa you are currently trailing through. There has to be a way to slip out into that direction and get up Palatine Hill, which is rather close. Pretending to long for some fresh air, you step into the lush green, plants and trees imported from places where they do not wither in the winter. They lend themselves to your cause perfectly, barely allowing the guests inside to catch a glimpse of your white stola as you tread the small paths, the light around you becoming less and less. You slip past a few trees, fight your way through bushes–and are met with solid stone. Of course. A wall to keep out everyone who tries to sneak into the gardens. Or in your case, sneak out of them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Heading back inside, finding another way–it will take too long. He could be gone by then. With a small shake of your head, you step forward and let your hands run over the cold stone. The moon is hiding behind clouds, giving you essentially no light to work with. Still, you somehow manage to find two crevices to tuck your fingers into and pull yourself up. Panting slightly once you've heaved yourself up onto the stone wall, you look back for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of the lit up villa through the trees, listening to the voices and music drifting over to you.

Suddenly, it feels like you're looking down upon your whole life, like you are seeing yourself from the perspective of the gods you so worship. You try and think of something to hold you back, any excuse to just jump back into the gardens and have no one ever be the wiser about the ideas in your head. You think about the dishonor you may bring to the Vestals, to your family. To him. The punishment they would settle on. The whispers that would follow you, even after death.

You try and think of a good reason to stay. But not a thought comes to mind.

So, you jump down on the side that leads further down the path and up to the house with the lavender gardens, a path you do not wish to leave now that you’ve started walking it. Even if it leads straight down to hell.

***

Acacius sighs quietly as he gets up from the bench he sat down on what feels like hours ago. His mind is as restless as his body, his head spinning a different direction every time the wind carries the sound of what could be someone sneaking toward him through the night. The statue of Mars stands quietly next to him as he begins to pace back and forth, eventually expanding his rounds onto the stairs. Up. Down. Have you changed your mind? Back. Forth. An invisible tug of war with the thoughts racing through his head.

The small pavilion is lit by only a few candles, providing just enough light to see but not enough to shimmer too far through the trees. On Bona Dea, the whole town below is alight with the celebrations of the women. Song, Chatter and Light travelling through the night air, distractions that lay like a shroud around your meeting. A protection not unlike your veil. An indication that what lays below is not to be touched–an indication he so desperately longs to ignore.

It's not any sound that makes him turn his head. It is an instinct that he cannot name that has him turn towards the path below. And there you are. Looking almost like a ghost, dressed in a festive, white stola that swishes around your body as you hurry the last few steps, the top of your head crowned by the very veil he just saw in his mind. And he suddenly feels like he cannot wait a second longer.

Acacius meets you halfway up the stairs, his arms sliding around your waist like they belong there. Like a child resting its head in their mothers lap, like a soldier returning to his village after the war. Like the most natural homecoming, a nestling of a body against that of its lover.

“Acacius–” You whisper his name, a relief that it can finally fall from your lips again. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He hums quietly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your side. “I would wait all night for you, Dulcissima.” He cannot see the blush that spreads over your cheeks but he can hear it in the small breath that escapes you. “May I?”

Keeping one arm firm around your waist, he leads you up the stairs, towards Mars who stares into the distance. Unlike the stone eyes of the statue that are forced to stare at one point on the horizon for eternity, Acacius’s eyes never leave you. Even when he leans down to the small tray he brought along earlier, grabbing a glass filled with red wine and handing it to you, he keeps his focus on you. You barely get to whisper a thank you before a frown spreads over his face. “What happened to your dress?”

“I had to climb the garden wall,” you mutter sheepishly, embarrassed that your original plan has so clearly gone awry. He watches as you take a sip of the wine before you continue. “I will clean it in the morning, it is not worth speaking of.”

Acacius doesn't agree. It feels like another thing he's making you do. A visual representation of the way he is soiling you, tainting your beautiful white gown with reminiscents of the dirt and grime that stains his armour after returning from battle. “It is my turn for apologies. You should not have to–”

He is shut up by your lips coming to rest on his. He can taste the red wine he picked out for tonight and by the gods, he does not think there is anything he likes more. Picking out what you taste like for him.

There is a small tremor in your body, an insecurity that he immediately recognizes as inexperience. He sighs into the kiss at that, his taunt muscles finally relaxing as he blindly reaches behind himself, finding the stone bench and lowering both of you onto it, never breaking your kiss. Sweet. You just taste so sweet.

He allows you to dictate the pace, only pulling back when you do, your breath coming in short pants. His forehead rests against yours as he reaches down to take his own glass, nudging you until you toast him, glass against glass creating a light melody that fades as quickly as it has appeared. You both drink in silence, only the distant noises of the celebrations and those of the garden around you reaching your ears.

“May I ask you something?” He hums, his voice low in his throat as he watches you raise your wine to your lips, the flames of the candles reflecting in the glass and liquid, sending smooth shadows over your face. At your nod, he continues. “Why did you ask to meet tonight? Bona Dea must mean a lot to you.”

You smile softly, though there is still a hint of nervousness present in your eyes. “The gods are busy looking down onto the feasts.” It is the unspoken part of your response that makes Acacius feel almost light-headed. If the goddesses eyes are truly on the feasts happening in the city, they are too busy to see you under the cover of darkness. One of his hands is still supporting your waist and he uses the other to set his glass down again before coming up to caress your ankle. A sliver of skin pokes out from under your stola, giving him a taste of what is waiting below the linen and silk that you are wrapped in. He feels you lean in, a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder for support as he maneuvers you onto his left leg. In one smooth motion, Acacius runs his calloused hand past the hem of your stola and up your calf. You shiver, shifting slightly. “Acacius–”

It's somewhere between a whisper and a begging command. He forces himself to pause, his hand resting on your knee, the fabric of your dress bunched up around his forearm. “Do you want me to stop?” You shake your head silently. And he decides that maybe, he can push a bit further. “Is this why you wanted to meet?”

He can practically see you pause, your eyes flickering nervously back and forth. He may be completely wrong. It may not even have occurred to you–this. That you could do this. Because technically, you can’t.

“Maybe,” you whisper and he smiles at the subtle hint in your tone that sounds less like a maybe and more like a yes. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't have the same train of thought. He just didn't expect you to want him like this. Hell, he barely expected you to show up. Not with how much you are both risking.

“I’m sure you know–” you whisper as his hand travels further, slowly but surely inching up your thigh. “That Vestals are sworn to celibacy.”

He gives as gentle a squeeze as he can, watching with a smirk as you bite your lip, stopping yourself from letting out a noise. God, how he wants to hear that noise. How he wants all of Rome to hear the noise, wants to hear his name fall from your lips as he gives you the pleasure you've been denied your entire life.

“There are other ways,” he muses, his thumb trailing over the edge of what he assumes to be a subligaculum covering your most private area. “Other ways of pleasure.” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing over the soft skin of your inner thigh, not quite crossing the invisible threshold yet. “Dont tell me you have not discovered any of them?”

This time, he can watch as the blush spreads over your cheeks and down toward your throat. His gaze softens slightly. “You do not have to tell me, if you do not wish to.” Acacius sighs quietly, his eyes watchful, trying to gauge if he's gone too far. If he should retreat. “Does this feel good? We do not have to–” He can feel himself stumbling over his words. “I do not wish to force myself upon you. We do not have to do anything if you are not ready.”

“What if I'm never ready?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, resting your head against his shoulder and he tuts as he looks down at you.

“Then we will never do anything.”

“Go on.” It is a whispered plea. And Acacius gently obliges. He knows how to give commands that demand to be followed. But he also knows how to take them.

His fingers sneak under the delicate cloth that forms your underwear, his index finger finding the space between your legs already deliciously wet. He can feel himself getting hard at just this. The thought that merely sitting on his lap, kissing him, feeling his hands on your leg, is enough to arouse you to this point. He swipes his thick index fingers through your folds, making you clutch onto his shoulder and whimper in surprise. A low chuckle leaves his lips as he stills his hand again, not wanting to overstimulate you right away. He is keeping that trick up his sleeve for later.

“Your body does not know of your vows, dulcissima,” he rasps, his beard scratching against your skin as he places soft kisses against your neck. He feels you shiver and while he is sure some of it can be attributed to the excitement, he has a feeling the cold is also doing its part. He has a sudden urge to pick you up and carry you inside. If you truly want him to see you, to bare yourself before him–the first man to ever touch you like this–it cannot be on a cold stone bench.

“Let me take you inside.”

(art by art by Gökberk Kaya)

notes: okay, i know, i know, bad moment to stop. i promise the next chapter is in the works! ♡

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strangunddurm · 3 years ago

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Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery

Masterlist

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, degradation, swearing, dirty talk, food, eating, alcohol consumption, you have breasts, age gap (unspecified how big but reader is an adult ofc and has a job)

"Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery! No, the wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive."

- William Shakespeare

He hadn’t meant to cheat. Truly, he didn’t mean to do it; does anybody go out with the intention to cheat? But then he met you and it was the beginning of the end. You were oh so lovely and oh so sweet that he couldn’t help himself. He fell for you and all that you were.

The entire situation wasn’t improved by the fact that you were his wife Carolyn's niece. He tried not to think about that small detail, but it was hard to ignore. You were after all only ever around if was to visit her, “your favourite aunt in the whole, wide world”. Ignored was the fact that you only had the one aunt, so it wasn’t particularly hard to claim the title.

The first time he had met you was imprinted in his mind. He could never forget that day — would never. It was one of those memories that, no matter how much time went by, he would always remember as clearly as if it had happened just a few seconds before. You had stepped out from the train onto the platform like a saving grace, absolutely glowing with delight as you tossed your arms around Carolyn's neck with a greeting and a chuckle. Flip had never been able to come with whenever Carolyn went out east to visit you; always too busy with a case or something else that was urgent and “couldn’t wait”. He would always immensely regret never coming along.

You were so sweet to everyone. You were never mad, never angry or upset. You were so easy to have a conversation with; everything interested you and you were curious about each and every thing the world had to offer. Nothing was ever boring with you. You had that uncanny ability to find bliss in even the most bitter moments. Of course, it was easy to think that when he only ever met you briefly as Carolyn helped you get settled into the town.

Colorado Springs was your new home and Flip was certain that he was being blessed by somebody that must've been watching over him. You had graduated from grad school with a master's degree, ready to take on the world of accounting, having a job lined up upon graduating at a major firm. But then you started coming over more often — being the victim of a roommate that enjoyed the comfort of dishes, dirt, and disaster — and it was hard to keep his hands to himself. Quick hugs grew to be more and more lingering, hands travelling lower, becoming more inappropriate.

Flip didn’t think you would reciprocate any sort of feelings. But then he started to notice the way you would look up at him and press up just a little closer to him whenever you could. At first, he tried to be rational, reasoning that it was just him that was hyper-aware of everything that you did, and, therefore, overanalysing every single situation.

But then you brushed up against his front in that absolutely sinful little dress you had been wearing in the Colorado summer heat, and he was sure that you were just as interested in him as he were you, if not even more.

It had been at that quaint little bar on the corner that he tended to frequent together with a few of his and Carolyn's friends whenever there was a small enough reason for a celebration. Everyone had been so drunk on the energy that was vibrating through the room that they couldn't notice anything that wasn’t themselves.

He had been so nervous when Carolyn had said that she had invited you. He didn’t want to spend time with you because the feelings that bubbled within him felt like he was betraying his marriage. But then again, he hadn’t asked Carolyn to invite you, so it wasn’t devious on his part in any way.

Flip was several glasses in, standing at the bar, getting ready to order the next round. You had came with him, scooting out of the booth after him as you offered to help him carry everyone’s orders back. You were so kind and he couldn’t refuse your help; he didn't want to give you any reason to think that he was pushing you away, but he was so scared of you to come closer.

It was crowded, yes, but it hadn’t been necessary for you to stand so close to him. And it definitely wasn’t necessary for you to press against him the way that you did as you stood in front of him, leaning over the bar as you talked to the bartender. He thought it was an accident at first, causing him to shuffle awkwardly a few paces to the left. But then you sneakily came shuffling after him pressing into him again and he definitely knew it was intentional that time.

Could you feel what you were doing to him? You had to feel the bulge that was beginning to grow in his pants. Your dress was made of such thin material that it was almost see-through, and his dress pants - forced upon him by Carolyn - did nothing to hide the feeling of his semi-hard cock.

He stayed frozen in the same place, not daring to move a muscle for fear that he would scare you away. His mind didn’t even begin to think about the possibility of anyone seeing the two of you, all he could focus on was the feeling of you and the feelings you triggered to rush through him.

His breath shuddered slightly before he pressed forward ever so lightly, testing your limits. It was such a small movement that it could easily be explained away as him bumping into you if it was needed; it was a bar that they were in, after all.

The feeling that fluttered through him when you didn’t shy away from him was indescribable. Especially when you, after a few moments, pressed back firmly into him, rubbing against him. There was no denying it then, the intentions behind your actions.

Flip's breath stuttered as he shakily exhaled. His cock was almost fully hard at this point, over-sensitive to even the slightest whisper of a touch.

His own needs took over, rutting into you as discreetly as he could, craving the friction. The music was loud but the rumble of voices that penetrated the air was even louder. It drowned out the low sounds of pleasure that Flip couldn’t help but release under his breath.

Only one of his hands was placed on the bar in front of the two of you, needing some sort of support for fear that his knees would buckle at any moment. The other was just hanging by his side, unsure what to do next. He wanted to touch you; wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips; wanted to drag up the hem of that dress so that he could just slip into your slickness and take you right then and there. But he didn’t — he couldn’t.

Thankfully, the bartender had served the drinks before he could do anything else. The clink of the glasses as they were placed down in front of you pulled Flip out of his less than clean thoughts so quickly that he took a step back without thinking about it, bumping into a passing patron. He apologised with raised hands before fumbling as he tried to grab as many glasses as he could.

He didn’t dare meet your eyes, but it was impossible to miss the way you smiled up at him in that mirthful way.

Flip didn’t see you for a while after that. It was probably for the best, perhaps it was the universe trying to give him a chance to put a stop to whatever inner turmoil was brewing within him. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Because right now, he was sure that he had never felt for another person what he felt for you. What he once had thought to be lust had merely been the illusion of it. A delusion made to make him believe that what he had been feeling for Carolyn was driven by anything other than the need to look complete in the eyes of others. The perfect man had a perfect wife by his side; but what are the perks of being perfect? Flip had this irresistible urge to do something irrational; to act up and make irreversible mistakes that he would lay awake, thinking about at night for weeks on end.

And here you were, strutting down the halls of the Colorado Springs Police Department, practically begging him to fall in love with you from the way your hips swung salaciously. It was entrancing, and unfortunately, he wasn't the only one that was entranced by it. You were turning heads left and right as you passed by his colleagues and it infuriated him like nothing before.

Flip shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he watched you get closer and closer to him with the brightest of smiles on your face. You were so focused on him and only him that you didn't even turn your head as one of the younger officers whistled teasingly at you. But Flip heard, and Flip saw exactly who had been watching you with as much interest as he, himself, had. And at that moment, Flip decided that he hated that officer.

"Hi!" Were you ever in a bad mood? Flip had to reflect over it for a moment, you were like a constant ray of sunshine whenever you were around him, but he knew that that wasn't always the case; Carolyn had informed him of as much. It appeared as if you too were unable to keep a smile from your face whenever you were together.

"What are you doing here?" Flip straightened his back slightly, subconsciously puffing out his chest just a tiny bit and clearing his throat. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see you, not at all, it was just that he couldn't help himself from growing hard in his jeans whenever he saw you.

"I brought you lunch, a little birdie told me that you usually skip it." You didn't seem to notice his obvious apprehension as he glanced nervously around the room to see if anyone was watching the two of you, or perhaps you just decided to ignore it.

"You didn't have to do that." Flip tried not to appear over eager as he attempted to sneak a peek inside the bag you had been lugging over your shoulder, filled with whatever you had cooked up. Carolyn would always brag about your cooking skills to her girlfriends whenever they were over at the house for dinner. But Flip hadn't had the privilege of tasting your food yet.

"Oh, don't be silly, I wanted to." You lightly tap his shoulder teasingly, sending him another of those smiles that practically made his heart stop for just a few moments. He couldn't stop the shy grin that he sent you in return, even if he had wanted to. "Do you want to eat here?" You continued, glancing around the room for the first time, taking in all the paperwork and all the people that were trying, and failing, to inconspicuously listen in on the conversation the two of you were having.

"Let me just clear some of this stuff up." Flip stood shakily as he shuffled through the piles of papers, making room for the both of you on his cluttered desk. It wasn't exactly the ideal place to be, he wanted you alone, away from all these people, but Flip knew that he wouldn't be able to control himself if it was only the two of you in a room, and he couldn't risk that, not yet.

Flip was stuffing the last few papers of the report he had been working on into the desk drawer, slamming it shut when Jimmy came waltzing up to the two of them, whistling mischievously as he surveyed you with a glint in his eyes.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A grin wider than the Cheshire Cat's made its way across his face. Jimmy didn't try to hide the way he dragged his eyes up and down your figure, but Flip got a distinct feeling that he did it more to annoy him than it was to appreciate your looks. But could he be blamed even if that wasn't the case? You had this air around you that would draw people in, no matter who they were. It drew one in with a promise of the possibility of exhilarating moments, intimately shared between you, them, and the world. It gave Flip the impression that if you asked, he would do anything for you.

Flip got so distracted by it that he didn't pay attention to you making nice and introducing yourself to Jimmy. He was so preoccupied with worrying about the possibility of other men's attraction to you that he could barely focus as he glowered around the room, meeting the hungry gazes of some of his fellow deputies. What if you found somebody else? Somebody better? Somebody who could give you everything that you deserved. Flip didn't think about the fact that he had a wife at home; a wife who deserved much more than a man who was lusting after her niece.

"Have you been keeping her from us, Zimmerman?"

"Huh?" Flip blinked a couple of times, trying to make his mind focus on what Jimmy was saying but it was close to impossible.

"Oh, he can't be blamed," You had obviously taken notice of his distracted state and placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, squeezing tightly as you let out an infectious laugh. It offered him more comfort than anything ever before.

You had moved closer to Flip, choosing to stand next to him rather than across like you had done at first. Flip didn't know whether it was subconsciously done or not, but he welcomed it nonetheless. Standing next to you was like standing next to the sun, heat radiating off of you in waves of comfort.

"She's too nice to be around you guys," Flip muttered gruffly. Jimmy laughed as if it was a joke, but Flip was more than half-serious as he said it. He didn't like sharing; never did, never would do.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya', I'm getting out of here." And just like that, Jimmy was gone and the two of you were alone again; as alone as you could be with a room full of people.

"So, let's eat." You clasped your hands in front of you, rubbing them together in infectious excitement.

It was impossible for Flip to stop thinking about you after that. That small act of kindness, of bringing him lunch, replaying over and over in his head. He wasn't used to people taking care of him. He had been as independent as one could be since he turned 18, despite having been married for an odd number of years. Carolyn had never even mentioned the possibility of her bringing him lunch.

Flip and Carolyn's marriage had been on the rocks for a while now; in fact, Flip could argue that it had been that way since the start. Affection wasn't exactly an active part of their relationship and they were both more interested in other people than each other. But still, Flip had never cheated on Carolyn; he hadn't ever felt the need to, he had always been perfectly contempt in the arrangement that they'd had. He didn't know if Carolyn had shown him the same respect, it wouldn't surprise him if she hadn't.

He knew that he should've divorced her a long time ago. He had been meaning to for a while, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. But you... you were bringing feelings to the surface which he had ignored for so long, and he didn't know if he could keep doing that for much longer.

You brought along a shift in his marriage to Carolyn. A shift that he had been too blind to see in the beginning but was beginning to become clearer and clearer to him now. The rows which he and Carolyn would have started becoming more and more heated, more and more frequent. Constant arguing over the smallest of things became a regularity in their daily life and there was barely a cool-down period between each one by now.

Maybe that's why he did what he did; why he invited you in when you came knocking on the door the night Carolyn was out with her friends. Of course, you weren't there for him, it was her you were seeking on your way home from a latenight shift at work. But he couldn't resist having a moment alone with you; a moment completely by yourselves.

"Carolyn is out with friends." Flip didn't miss the pleased look that flashed across your face as you took in the news whilst you stepped into the house.

"Oh, that's too bad." Was it really? He'd like to think of it as a stroke of luck.

"Can I get you anything?" Flip scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he fumbled over his words from nerves. It was almost an automatic reaction, palms becoming clammy and heart beating wildly in his ears whenever he would see you.

"I brought a bottle of wine that I though we could share?"

"Wine?"

"I bought it on the way home... work has really been riding me this week so I need it." Riding you. Did you do it on purpose? Say these things to rile him up and make him want to take you that much more? You had to be. You were an absolute minx, fuelling the fruitless fantasies of a dirty old man. But you were a bad girl, weren't you? A bad girl that needed to be punished and he wouldn't mind volunteering himself for the job. Yes, Flip could definitely imagine it happening in quite a few ways.

You pulled out the bottle of red from the convenience store bag that had 'thank you, thank you, thank you' displayed in red across the front and was tightly grasped in your hand. You wiggled the bottle slightly, trying to tempt him even more, but Flip didn't need much convincing. In fact, he probably needed none at all.

The two of you settled into peaceful conversation after Flip had gotten the bottle opener from the kitchen along with two wine glasses. How is it that you can fall into such easy-going conversations with a person you barely know? It had been that way from the start. Flip had never felt the pressure and stress that could often accompany conversations with others. He never had to wrack his brain for a topic that was only minutely interesting in an attempt to avoid awkward silence. With you, everything was so different, fresh, and new. It made Flip realise that he had perhaps always settled before; or perhaps saying always was unfair, but a majority of the time, at least. Settled when it came to friends, settled when it came to his job, settled when it came to his wife.

Was it love that he felt for you? Perhaps. After all, you had made Flip question everything and that included what he had interpreted as love before, how could he possibly ever know what love was again? Did he love you? No, he knew that much, or at least he wasn't in love with you and that was an important distinction. But he loved you for the way that you made him feel, for the way you made him realise that happiness was within his reach.

Was it him that had moved closer to you? Flip didn't know, but all of a sudden he realised that your thigh was pressed up against his own and it took everything within him not to reach out and touch you again. He wanted to feel what your supple skin felt like underneath his fingers and what a moan that slipped past your lips would sound like. Flip needed to know how you would feel with your walls wrapped around his cock as he pumped into you. He needed it like he needed air to breathe; so, was it his fault when he finally let his arm fall over your shoulders mid-laugh?

You didn't shy away from his touch. Far from it, you welcomed it whole-heartedly, pressing into his side and slinging your outer leg over his lap. There was a brief pause of silence as he surveyed you, breath shakily exhaling as he thought his options through. He could either push you away and make up some sort of excuse as to why you would have to leave, or, he could pull you even closer and deal with the consequences afterwards.

Planting his hand on your thigh and pulling you so that you were straddling his lap was the obvious choice for Flip. It might not have been the right choice, the chivalrous choice, but he would never find himself regretting the decision, not ever.

You let out a giggle as you got settled, hips pressed flush against one another, hands coming to rest on the backrest of the couch on either side of his head, caging him in as his own rested securely on your hips. He felt like the vulnerable prey under your gaze; you were the predator, watching him in trepidation, ready to pounce and claim what you deemed yours at a moment's notice.

Flip had to crane his head back to be able to meet your gaze. There was a dangerous and hungry glint in it, hiding behind feigned innocence that could fool anybody, even him. You weren't a completely innocent party; you knew what you wanted, and what you wanted you would get as the final victor in it all.

"You're so pretty." It was a reflection that Flip had meant to keep for himself but he feared that he would regret not saying the words now, just in case he never got the privilege to say them again.

"You think so?" The grin that weaved its way across your face was far less than bashful, it was full of pride as you knew just what you did to him.

Flip hummed lowly in reply, continuing to admire you. He wasn't shy as he let his eyes wander to your cleavage that was practically calling his attention as it paraded in front of him.

His hand came up to finger at the neckline, pulling at it to reveal even more of your skin to him. A groan caught in the back of Flip's throat as he saw the lace of the bra you were wearing; the flesh of your breasts almost spilling out of it as it fought its confinement.

There wasn't even a hint of hesitancy as you brought the garment over your head, flinging it away to an unimportant corner of the room before retaking your position on top of him.

You were glorious; the most beautiful creature he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

"And what do you think of this?" You asked cheekily, tongue running along the inside of your lips as you tried to not grin too widely.

"Beautiful."

Flip couldn't hold himself back any longer. He had to know what every inch of you tasted like, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

His left hand, the hand that had been toying with your shirt, travelled even further north to wrap around your neck, finding a home there and pulling you forward gently so that he could finally press his lips roughly against your own.

You tasted just like he had dreamed, soft, sweet, and subtle under the traces of wine. There was no stopping him after that; he crave more and more with every low moan of pleasure that escaped you.

Your hips had begun to grind down against his in small waves, seeking any sort of friction to alleviate the throbbing that had been steadily growing between your legs throughout the night.

Flip bucked his hips upwards and the sharp jolt caused you to disconnect your lips from his for a brief moment to let out a wanton moan.

"You like that?"

"I love it."

Flip wanted to make you moan. He wanted to make you scream and weep and laugh as he made you cum over and over again. He wanted to bury his face between your legs and feast until he was no longer hungry; he wanted to thrust into you without abandonment until he had coaxed a thousand orgasms out of you; he wanted to fill you up and watch as his creamy, white spent leaked out of you and then he wanted to do it all over again and again and again. Flip was prepared to offer everything he had and more just so that he could see your face furrow as an orgasm caused your body to convulse and chest heave.

"We shouldn't." Flip tried to be the mature one in the situation but it was as if neither you nor himself had heard him as you both continued grinding down and up against each other, chasing whatever relief that was offered.

You know those moments when you know that you should be doing anything but what you are doing at that instant? but then you cannot possibly even consider doing anything else but. This was one of those moments.

Flip's lips devoured your own in a frenzy. It was like he could never get enough of you, biting and pulling at your lips, trying to sate the need he had for you in any way that he could. His tongue explored your mouth with a delighted moan, and you grew wetter with every nibble.

Flip's hands clumsily made quick work on your bra, pulling it from your body eagerly. The swell of your breasts was glorious, and he didn't hesitate to disconnect his lips from yours so that he could wrap them around your nipple, giving it the same treatment as he caressed and tugged and nibbled at it.

His actions caused shockwaves of pleasure to run through your body, straight to your core as you pulled on his dark hair as you tried to not lose yourself to the overwhelming pleasure of it all too soon.

Each of you moved as rapidly as the other, pulling at your clothes to undress as rapidly as you could. As you were finally rid of your clothes, Flip wondered for an instance if he could keep you like this, gloriously nude and practically drunk on the thought of him.

"I’m gonna fuck you right here on the couch, do you want that, sweet girl?" Flip cooed at you in only his boxers, his shirt having been discarded and pants being pushed down to his ankles. His hand caressed your cheek briefly before trailing all the way down to your clit, giving it a quick rub and flick, eliciting another soft whine from you.

"Right in plain view of the door so that if Carolyn comes home early, she will see exactly what a bad fucking girl you are as you take my cock." You couldn’t help the moan that slipped out, and a grin grew on Flip’s face as he heard it.

”You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My naughty girl” Flip wanted Carolyn to come home now. He wanted her to watch as he made his dick disappear into you whilst he fucked you with a passion that was completely unknown to her. He wanted you to ride him, walls engulfing his thick shaft, his fingers circling your clit as she sat in the chair across from the two of you, mesmerised by the sight

“Get up.” Flip demanded impatiently, tapping your side lightly with a finger. He lifted up his hips just high enough so that he could slide his boxers down to join his pants, cock slapping against his stomach as it was exposed to the cold air.

You fell to your knees at the sight of him, hands resting on his thick thighs as you lurched forward, needing to taste him but Flip stopped you with a hand before you could. Flip loved seeing you like this, on your knees for him. He fisted his length, spreading the small bead of pre-cum over his tip with a thumb as he came to the top. He was painfully hard, head was angrily red, weeping for your mouth.

"There's no need to rush, sweet girl." Flip chuckled as you pouted. He felt exactly like you did, but he didn't want it all to be over far too quickly. However, he could just take you again after this so what was the point of going slowly?

"Open your mouth."

Of course, you were compliant, eagerly opening your mouth to take him in. He took the thumb that was smeared with pre-cum and brought it to your lips, letting you wrap your lips around it and sucking it into your mouth. He groaned at the sight of you, eyes wide and glossy. Your mouth was hot around him, tongue lapping him clean and it was impossible to hold out even longer after that.

He was quick to grip his hand on the back of your head, guiding you as you took him in your mouth. The pace he set was merciless. He made it clear that he was the one in control as he forced your head down the length of his shaft, making you gag around him as he hit the back of your throat. You were incredible, taking it all in stride as his hips rutted upwards needing to feel you taking him even further. His head fell back against the couch for a brief moment, eyes almost going cross as you hollowed out your cheeks.

"Fuck!" He groaned out. You were watching him from under hooded eyelids, eyes practically glowing with lust and his gaze was intense as he stared back. ‘I knew you’d love sucking my cock, you dirty girl’ He smirked.

You moaned around him, a small dollop of drool trailing down your chin. One of your hands moved from his thigh to gently play with his balls and he moaned before giving a final thrust into your mouth and then pushing you back by your shoulder to withdraw himself from you.

There were tears of pleasure trickling down your cheeks and Flip couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction as you wiped your mouth clean with the back of your hand.

"Come here." Flip was pumping his fist around his shaft as he watched you stand, legs coming onto either side of him before sitting down. Your breasts were pressed up against his, his cock wedged in between your bodies and pulsing angrily as he felt you rub against him, leaving a wet trail in its wake, practically dripping onto him. He planted another kiss on your lips, this one was softer than all the others but still portrayed the rabid need he had for you.

He was admiring you. Taking his sweet time. There was an incredible yearning for you inside of Flip. It was as if his entire body was buzzing from how horny he was and the pressure in his cock was beginning to become too much for him to take. He needed to be inside of you, to feel your walls wrapped around him.

You didn't appear to be enjoying it as much as he was. It was obvious that you needed to be touched by the way you had slid your fingers closer to your core, ready to plunge them into yourself to get some kind of relief. But Flip stopped you with a swat to your ass and a tut. You yelped over the surprise at the stinging feeling.

"I didn’t say that you could touch yourself." Flip reprimanded. He palmed your ass, kneading your cheeks firmly with both hands.

"You’re so gorgeous." He breathed out shakily, completely enamoured at the sight of you above him. "I’m gonna keep you like this, fucking you and filling you up until you're swollen with me.’

Another whine slipped out of you as you jerked even closer to him, clit rubbing against his shaft in long, slow movements.

"Do you want me?"

"Of course." Flip had never felt more satisfied than he did at that moment, hearing your reply.

Flip helped you balance on a foot and knee, coming up higher and spreading wide so that you line the head of his cock up with your entrance. His hand on your hip stopped you from sinking down completely, instead, he used his other to gently and slowly drag the thick head of his cock through your folds, coating it in your slickness. Flip enjoyed torturing you and seeing the twisted look of annoyance that took over your face, it was adorable. There was an obvious look of need that crossed over your face as you bucked your hips, trying to get him to slide into you.

"I don’t know if you deserve this," Flip mused, sounding far too calm and unaffected by the situation "you’ve been such a bad girl." He started withdrawing himself from you, hands leaving your flesh, but you reacted quickly, grabbing a hold of his wrist and tugging it back to your hip.

"No, no, no, please, Flip. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, please just-" It was beautiful the way you pleaded for him. He wouldn't have stopped either way, but Flip loved seeing you beg, to know that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. It was so painfully obvious that you were ready to do just about anything for his cock.

It was easy to relent, to let you finally sink down onto his massive shaft and let him bury his thick cock to the hilt inside of you. The entire room practically shook from the loud groan he let out as he split you open.

”Jesus Christ, you take me so- fucking well.” Flip felt like he was almost in disbelief, elated from the sight of his throbbing cock disappearing into the sweetness that was you, buried deep inside your slick warmth. You felt so good, so perfect, walls tightly gripping every inch of him as they pulsed. You let out a shuddering gasp as he stretched you out.

Flip didn’t let you adjust, not really, he only allowed you to stop for a few moments, basking in the feeling of your fluttering walls clenching around him before he urged you to pull up and sink back down onto him roughly, bouncing up and down as rapidly as you could.

"Feels so- good." You breathed out shakily between urgent thrusts and grinding of hips.

"Yeah?" Flip cooed as he watched you pull back up, only keeping the very tip of him in before sinking back down. "You like my cock? I’m gonna make you feel so much fucking better."

He planted his feet firmly on the ground and delivered a sharp and precise thrust upwards the next time you came back down.

"Flip!" You cried out, falling forward as pleasure mixed with the slightest hint of pain bloomed through you. You braised yourself, holding yourself up by the back of the couch as Flip slid down to get better leverage and began drilling into you at an unrelenting and frenzied pace. His grip on your hips was so incredibly hard as he used it to slam you back against him, but you didn’t care, too lost in the waves that were overtaking you.

All mercy had left Flip as he forced you down onto him over and over again, small praises escaping his lips every now and then as he met each movement with one of his own. You moaned and whined helplessly, clawing at the fabric of the couch underneath your hands, needing something to hold on to through his ruthless thrusts.

"You feel so good around my cock, Sweetheart." He praised in a murmur. "So fucking tight." Flip grabbed a hold of your arms, pulling you off him and down, pressing your face deep into the couch and pulling your ass high up in the air before entering you again swiftly and continuing pumping into your sweet cunt. He had you pressed down firmly by the back of your neck, your back arching as the sound of skin slapping and the wet squelches of your sopping wet pussy echoed around the room. It made you even more drenched; the mixture of your pleasure pooling around the base of his cock, running down the inside of your thighs.

One of Flip’s hands shifted to palm at your ass while the other travelled downward to roll and lightly pinch at your clit while rolling his hips and you writhed against him.

"You’re gonna be a good girl and cum around me." He instructed lowly followed by a sharp slap to your right ass cheek. “Can you do that for me?"

Flip pushed you down even further into the couch for just a short moment and a deep thrust before you could heed his command, unsheathing himself from you.

He didn’t even have to begin to miss the feeling of you clenched around him before he had wrestled you into the position he wanted you in with legs bent as far as they would go over your chest and back to the bed so that he could easily drill into you in deep and sharp strokes, but he didn't enter you just yet. He leaned back, admiring you as his hands spread you wide, baring you to him. You had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen and he was compelled to kiss it. A sweet kiss and a short suckle on your clit that had you crying out from oversensitivity before he sank into you again.

Flip felt himself slowly losing whatever composure he had left as your muscles began to tighten around him over the coiling tension that was begging to snap. Your walls gripped him tighter and tighter until finally, Flip watched as your eyes rolled back when reached your peak, walls spasming and moans bouncing around the room. You were seeing stars as your legs shook uncontrollably from the overwhelming feeling.

Flip was relentless as he continued pumping into you throughout your convulsing climax, determined to make you feel the best you ever had, although the pace was much slower than previously. His breaths were coming out in short pants whilst your own were breathy moans as you trembled.

You reached up, treading your fingers through his hair to pull him down slightly to connect your lips in a kiss. It was soft; a lot softer than any kiss you had shared previously.

"You're so pretty when you cum for me." He murmured after he let you come down for your high for a few moments whilst leaving kisses on your neck. Flip picked up the pace of his hips once again, balls swinging as they slapped against you every time he pressed himself into you.

He was deliberately rubbing his pelvis flushed against your clit to drive you toward the edge again. He needed to see you fall apart for him again, he craved it. It was easy for Flip to tell that you were close to the edge once more. Your eyes had begun glazing over again, becoming hazy with lust as your legs started to tremble.

"Think you can come again?" He didn't expect a reply from you, Flip didn't actually think that you were coherent enough at that moment to even begin to form a word with your lips. Instead, you were babbling like a brook, head falling from side to side as your back arched, jutting out your chest as your second orgasm was steadily building up inside of you.

"Fuck. You look so good fucking gorgeous like this.’ He praised with a wet and sloppy kiss to your lips.

Flip was so close to coming, but he wasn't finished just yet, surprising you as he flipped you over, planting you on all fours before pushing your front over the armrest. He didn't care if it wasn't the most comfortable position as he drilled into you, and neither did you, judging by your moans.

"I'm so close." He groaned out, hips starting to stutter, unable to keep up the tempo he had previously kept so easily as he leaped and bounded closer to climax.

Flip’s orgasm washed over him with a deep jerk forward, spilling into you with a loud cry. He continued thrusting into you, albeit at a much more languid pace, milking himself completely dry as he twitched slightly. He didn't want to withdraw from you, but when he finally did he couldn't help but admire the way he leaked out of you.

#flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman imagine #adam driver character #adcu #adcu fanfiction #flip zimmerman x reader #fic rec #larry fic #x reader #reader insert #adam driver x you #adam driver x reader #adam driver fanfic #adam driver smut #tw age gap #tw cheating

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adventuresinobx · 3 years ago

Text

Rings

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: You have an obsession with Rafe’s hands and especially his rings. Normally, before he gets you off, he takes them off. Today, they’re staying on.

A/N: SURPRISE! Here’s a short little blurb of Rafe with hints of some enemies to lovers background. It’s basically just smut though with not much plot; enjoy!

Warnings: This is just smut. Daddy kink, hand kink, ring kink (if that’s a thing. If it wasn’t, it is now 😂)

You closed your eyes, relishing at the cool feeling of the metal of Rafe’s rings touching your inner thighs. He dragged his hand delicately over your skin there, your body shivering at the contact. It felt so good what he was doing and your hips were thrusting up with every single movement of his fingers.

The cool metal against your hot skin just turned you on even more and you couldn’t get enough of that sensation. It made everything hotter. You felt so turned on and you needed Rafe so badly. It was becoming a problem how hot he made you - but you hated him, you tried to remember, you hated him.

Those thoughts faded the more he moved his fingers across your skin. You desperately started bucking your hips up for more and more and more but he wasn’t having it, sure he wanted to tease you and make you wait. You had waited long enough for this, you didn’t need to wait any longer. You just needed him.

You had to stop doing this; you hated each other. But you loved the feeling he gave you, the sensation he brought you. You were soaking wet, your core dripping and begging for him and his fingers.

“Please Rafe, don’t make me wait,” you moaned out, his cock pushing against the material of his pants in anticipation of what was going to happen next.

“Please who?” he said. His voice was sharp and direct, but also angry - he needed to hear you say it.

“Please daddy, touch me please,” you groaned out, bucking your hips as his fingers brushed against your soaking wet core and up and down your slit.

Before he went to get into it properly, he went to remove his rings but you stopped him.

“No please keep them on,” you said and he almost growled at your words. Now he wasn’t going to wait.

Finally, you got what you needed as his thumb brushed your clit. He ghosted his fingers over your slit, making your hips roll again and again at the feeling.

“That’s it,” you moaned, holding his hand in place as you bucked into it. His fingers slipped in and out of you with ease as you were so wet and the cool feeling of the metal against your core added so many sensations.

He was slow with his fingers, then fast, and the change in speed made you even wetter. He knew what he was doing. The cold metal of his jewellery brushed your clit and you near enough screamed at the feeling. It was building up. You bucked your hips into his hand and you felt things getting more and more heated.

You were soaking, his fingers were slamming into you hitting your g-spot every single time. It was too much, way too much. You were seeing stars and you couldn’t hold this much longer.

“Gonna cum,” you whined, not even waiting for him to say you could before you released all over his fingers. Your face soon turned red as you realised you had squirted all over his fingers. Whilst you were embarrassed, his face was very different.

He grinned at you, looking down at how you’d soaked his bedsheets and then looking back at your face.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice firm but quiet, “Turns out you don’t really hate me eh?”

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @maybankforlife2 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @smokingbeersdrinkingweed @babeyglo @infatuatedjanes @ailee-celeste @malums-trash-can

#obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine

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pcrushinnerd · 3 years ago

Text

A Second Chance

Summary: What happens when Doc Ock returns to his own universe and who he visits.

Basically a sort of gap-filler fic because I didn't like how ??? NWH left the 'saved' villains' fate at the end of the movie.

Warnings: Mention of injuries maybe?? This story will be fairly tame, honestly.

A/N: Doc Ock x reader (Using you/they/them pronouns here, though insert character will have the unisex name of Sam to make things easier on me. lol Apologies if I forgot to switch out a prounoun or two....) Because of this, presume this Doc Ock didn't previously meet and wed Rosie (since I couldn't figure out how to keep her in with this scenario without Otto ultimately seeming like a jerk). Gifffs never mineeeee I'm not that talented....

||| masterlist ||| part 2 |||

Part 1

New York, 2004

The city was shrouded in fog. It lent an ethereal touch to everything, but it was also a bit of a practical double edged sword. A person could hide in the fog, but so could any potential threat.

You hugged a small bag of groceries a bit tighter to yourself as you walked briskly along your seemingly abandoned street.

Seemingly. Seemingly... You couldn't shake the feeling all night that you were being watched. Not an unfamiliar feeling, especially living alone in the city. But it weighed especially heavily on you since the accident.

Thoughts of threats looming in the fog and shadows subsided once you were safely back in your own apartment. You sagged against your closed door, then quickly jumped away when the hard wood pressed against your still-healing back injuries. A piece of metal siding had hit you square in the back and knocked you down during the containment breach. You'd been lucky that nothing had actually been broken, or worse, but there was still plenty of damage.

You plopped the grocery bag onto a counter to your left, before you tossed your keys onto your desk, near your open laptop, the screen since turned to black. You sighed, thinking of the handful of good-enough job listings.

You never would have imagined you'd be job hunting even just a month ago. You were doing what you loved and using your skills toward a good cause. An unlimited source of energy... You should have seen it for what it was: a pipe dream.

You should have also been able to see how your boss's supreme intelligence and driven passion would take him too far under the worst circumstances.

You pushed all these thoughts aside as you moved through your apartment. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes again. You quickly swiped them away, as you entered your darkened bedroom.

You balanced herself against your headboard, as you reached down to pull off your socks, when four metal arms quickly encircled your frame and dragged you backwards into a pair of human ones.

Before you could cry out, a gloved hand clamped over your mouth.

"Shh, Sam-Sam-it's me!"

You slowly relaxed. Better not to fight someone who could easily kill you with just a flick of one of those mechanical arms.

The arms around you loosened and you slipped to the floor. As you scrambled to turn around and look at him, one of the actuators reached behind him to flick on you bedroom light.

"Otto?"

He smiled at you. A gentle smile that had almost been erased by the multiple times you'd seen a more cocksure grin was splashed across newspapers and broadcasts the past several weeks. It was surreal to see him fighting that web-slinging vigilante who had become as much of a unique feature of New York City as the Statue of Liberty or Empire State. Surreal to see him at all with those AI-operated arms outside of the lab setting, when they were just supposed to be part of the renewable energy experiments.

"It's me, dear. Really me."

Your brow wrinkled. What the hell did that mean? "I...I'm not helping you!"

The gentle smile faded into a frown. Without thinking, he started to move towards you, when you cried out again: "I'm not helping you with that damn reactor! Or whatever the hell else you've cooked up the last several weeks!"

His old smile returned, albeit tinged with a bit of sadness. He was back in his own universe, his own time, alright. He had no idea when he initially woke up in a nondescript alleyway in a nondescript block of the city, but once he got his bearings he started heading south, into lower Manhattan, and eventually he found confirmation in three things.

His old lab on the pier. Ruined from the fusion power reaction, appearing as it did before he had lept from through time and space.

Ground Zero. A place still marred by what had happened a few years prior, but also a work in progress. Not the beautiful pools of water and shining, single tower he saw in another time and place.

The Statute of Liberty. She was very much as she always looked to him. Not shrouded in scaffolding and holding aloft the shield and symbol of some hero who didn't (as far as he knew) exist in his time.

As much as possible from the shadows, he'd observed the world around him. He had seen none of the intriguing technology he'd set eyes upon in the other time line. The fashion now appeared much more as he remembered. He neither saw nor heard anything about a "blip," a team of "Avengers," or even talk about a mob Kingpin and his disputed rule over Hell's Kitchen.

No, just a few wild rumors about what "Doc Ock" was up to, since he hadn't been seen in, as you'd said, weeks. Discussion of what his Spider-man, Peter Parker, was up to...but mostly talk of many other things going on in the world. Curious that the spell that apparent...wizard did or undid or whatever hadn't sent him back to the last moment he remembered, just about to step into his semi-ruined lab on the pier.

When he had stepped inside, the reactor was gone. That girl, Mary Jane, was gone. The building had been seemingly restored to what it looked like before the containment breach, but it was...simply filled with crates and boxes storing inconsequential consumer goods and foodstuffs and probably stolen art. Nothing of his dream was there.

He was angry, but he also quickly became disoriented. Developed a migraine, nearly threw up. He settled into a hidden, dusty corner of the building and waiting until he recovered the next day, when he went on the hunt for Spider-man.

Surely he had to be behind all this, somehow.

And he did find Spider-man...sort of.

His mind still reeled from the confirmation he had experienced of a true multiverse. The scientist in him immediately wanted to somehow go back, or go to another timeline, or multiple ones, to somehow be able to study it and its implications.

As it was, once he had helped his--and amazingly, two other--Peter Parkers, he was sent back to his own universe. He found and stepped into the building on the pier, appearing as he remembered it from before--semi-ruined, yet empty of the new reactor he had built. The girl was gone.

It was like his very own Twilight Zone episode. As if everything else that had happened to him hadn't been straight from some sci-fi horror film...

It once again affected him physically, the jaunt between time and space. The return trip had been just as disorienting as the first one, hence his seeking confirmation, upon getting his bearings. But he was back to his world, albeit at a slightly later time.

If was almost as if the "spell," or whatever it was, had mercifully given him some breathing room. Some time for a frenetic city, world, and universe, to turn much of its attention to other things, before his return. Truly, a second chance.

"The reactor is gone. So is the tritium. And so is any interest I have in attempting the experiment again."

You softened a bit at hearing that. There was definitely something significantly different about Otto, though you couldn't quite place it.

"Then...why are you here?" you asked carefully, as you slowly backed up and started to stand up from your position on the floor.

Otto let out a breath. "To make amends."

You canted your head and narrowed your eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I have...many people, to make amends to, really, but high on the list is you. I realize that now, that I have-" Otto rubbed the back of his neck, where lay the new inhibitor chip that younger Parker built and installed for him. He chuckled suddenly. "Help, from a very unexpected source."

"Uh huh...." You didn't really know what to make of this. This sudden change in his demeanor could be a ploy to get you to help him. But then where had he been the last several weeks, twiddling his thumbs? Seemed an odd shift for someone who was so driven by seeing his vision come to fruition, that he'd done...well, everything he had done. But also not entirely above the whole mad scientist schtick he had sadly fallen into.

"You don't trust me, and I don't blame you, but I would be remiss if I didn't come to you to apologize... I thought only of achieving my dream, of doing something that would better this world with something that would surely stop so much unnecessary pain and suffering... But then I created so much myself in the process. I was aware that you were hurt during the breach, but the voices-" he stopped short, when he saw the face you made at that word. "The AI," he corrected, "it overrode everything, and I didn't... Well, we both know there's a lot I should and shouldn't have done. I am sorry, my dear."

You didn't notice at first that one of the actuators was close to your face, just about to touch it. You semi-flinched away from it, then felt weirdly felt bad for doing so.

Otto drew back. "I better go."

He walked out of your bedroom, arms and all. You stood, dumbstruck for a moment, unsure what to do.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?" You rushed after him. "I mean, do you have some place to go?"

Otto turned towards you, but his hand remained on your doorknob. He considered your question; a jail cell came to mind. "I suppose I do, in a way..."

You gave an incredulous smirk. "Mmm-hmm. Just like I'm sure you've eaten dinner and taken your blood pressure pill..."

Her old boss chuckled. "You always took better care of me than I did, when we were together, working."

You folded your arms and gave a small shrug. "You get to know someone, after...working together so long." You pressed your lips together. "And you're going to turn yourself in," you stated flatly.

"I should probably simply throw myself into the Hudson river," he locked eyes with you. "But I need to face what I had done, and to...say goodbye."

Your arms fell to your sides. "Goodbye?"

"Once they find the deepest, darkest cell to throw me into, or worse, I presume we won't be able to see each other again."

You swallowed. Looked around your small apartment, with its few decorations and no real knickknacks, No photos or posters on the walls, just a nondescript wall clock, off to one side, ticking away. Just a few bookshelves filled with science books and not much else. The worn though comfortable rug underfoot. The few dishes in your sink that had had been putting off.

"Um... I know it's not much, but you can stay here tonight, at least. Just to get your bearings."

Otto quickly shook his head. "I couldn't do that to you. I shouldn't be here as it is..."

"And yet you are," you retorted. You stepped up to him. "Please just let me...take care of you, one last time."

The man himself and the actuators linked to him looked upon you with awe, appreciation. Uncertainty. Words of advice given to his Peter Parker came back to him unbidden.

"Love shouldn't be kept a secret, dear boy. If you keep something that complicated locked up inside...it can make you sick. Trust me, I should know..."

When had he become such a hypocrite? Otto looked down and away in shame.

"Hey, is that a new inhibitor chip?"

A little trill moved through him at feeling your fingers around the new chip, his saving grace.

"Yes. Gift from a...friend...of sorts."

You looked at him curiously. "Is that where you've been the last several weeks, getting this fixed?"

"Yes... In a manner of speaking."

You sighed. "I wish you'd be less vague. Your directness was something I loved-"

You did a double take, realizing what you said. You coughed. "C'mon, just to settle my mind for tonight-stay."

Otto considered it.

He removed his hand from your front door knob.

"Okay."

...

"Are you-well, can you sleep on a bed?"

"Please don't give up your bed just for me." It would be a lie to say that it wasn't a very tempting offer. Any sleep Otto had been getting lately came in the form of dozing off in his chair in his wrecked lab, or on some random couch of someone he never met. Though, if he were being totally honest, he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to sleep comfortably on a normal bed, either.

"One night on my couch won't kill me."

"It wouldn't kill me, either."

"Doctor..."

"Alright, alright-I know that tone and look well enough not to argue. But if it doesn't," he gestured vaguely around the bed, then to the actuators, "work for u-me, then we're trading places."

You nodded on a sigh. "It's a deal. Now get some rest, please." You had been holding a couple of extra blankets and an extra pillow, which you now set down onto you bed and patted and smoothed down a few times, before heading to your couch in your living room.

"Sam."

You stopped at your bedroom door.

"Thank you...dear."

His former assistant just nodded, before shutting your door to give him some privacy.

The actuators started to chirp and snap at him.

"I know, I know... Just, give me some time to mull over how to say it to them."

...

You woke up to the smell of brewing coffee. It was a strong pot; you smelled it even in your dream, where you and your former boss and colleague were together in the lab, as if everything was normal and there was no fusion reactor or actuators or Spider-man or anything to cause complication and stress.

You smiled, then frowned.

"Is something wrong?" Otto had glanced over as he reached into your fridge for some creamer. "...Other than my still being here?" he added.

"Nothing wrong at all about that," you assured a moment later when he brought out a steaming cup of java for you to take.

"No sugar and half cream," Otto huffed. "Strangest coffee order I ever knew."

A snide remark about it still being better than drinking coffee straight with nothing added, as Otto preferred, came to mind, but you dismissed that thought as you accepted the mug and took a sip.

"But you always make it perfectly."

If the blush that wasn't enough, the actuators tentatively approaching you and opening and closing, and pointing away when you would look at them directly, was probably enough of a tell of how he was feeling.

He sat down tentatively onto your coffee table. He had to give you credit in your choice of furniture-the thing was sturdy enough to support his weight, arms and all.

"I...uh..."

You looked at him expectantly.

"Do you know if Norman Osborn is still alive?"

The thought occurred to him in the middle of the night. Osborn was likely the one soul who could attest to what Otto had been through the last days or weeks, if he had been returned to their universe the same as Otto. The Peter Parker he knew, he recognized instantly-but he could also see that the younger man appeared older, maybe even closer to middle aged, to his own age--so he theorized that his Parker from his time had not been the one with him in that other universe.

"I... what? Why do you ask that?" You started to chuckle in confusion. "He has to be one of Bellvue's most notorious residents."

"Remind me, once again Sam, why he's there."

You thought the choice of topic random, to say the least, but it was an old thing between you two. "Remind me, Sam, why we contracted with that vendor, "Remind me, Sam, why we always keep fresh power cells on hand" "Remind me, Sam, why we switched internet providers last year..." And you would come back with whatever suitable quip. Otto was practical, but his laser-sharp focus was almost always on the subject of his work. You managed the labs, your lives. You supposed it made sense that the finer details of Norman Osborn's life weren't particularly in his purview, even though it had been all over the news.

You sat up straighter on your couch. "Well, he uh... It came out that he was the one on that glider who killed the rest of the Oscorp board. Took his own experimental drug, made him insane." You shook your head.

"I guess he disappeared after trying to kill a bunch of kids in one of those Island Trams, and some girl I think... Showed up days later in his penthouse, confessed everything to Harry. Also saying all this crazy stuff about being in another universe, meeting other Peter Parkers, something about a wizard..." You started to chuckle. Meanwhile, Otto's blood turned cold.

"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't laugh at his...mental illness? I donno, Harry has poured so much money into researching his father's problem, saying it's some transitory thing due to the performance-enhancing drug he'd taken, that it's reversible and his mental state was just a temporary insanity. I guess the doctors treating him almost buy it, if it weren't for the...multiverse stuff he's always talking about. Who knows."

Otto quickly downed the rest of his coffee. "Sam, before I...turn myself in, I need to see him."

"Why?"

"If there's one person who can understand my...unique predicament, it's him."

#doc ock x reader #doc ock x you #doctor octopus x reader #doctor octopus x you #otto octavius x reader #otto octavius x you #doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius #spider-man #raimiverse #spider-man no way home #spiderman no way home #spiderman nwh #nwh #fanfic #Mel writes I guess

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pokemagines · 8 years ago

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lucina, severa, & lillie + attention

ask: @voice-of-desert-bluffs: “Lucina, Severa, and Lillie headcanons for a s/o that likes attention if that's not too specific? Thank you xx”

a/n: well since it’s pokemon too i guess it doesnt have to be on fe friday?? ANYWAYS, i forgot to add to the rules that u can mix fe and pokemon, as long as you keep it to 5 !!

lucina:

she’s very much attentive to her s/o. however, she can get side-tracked, especially the days before going into a battle.

tends to get wrapped up in training with her parents, but she can make a compromise. she’ll often have you watch her train (she loves to hear your praise from the sidelines), or she’ll train with you. + she might go a little bit easy, just because she doesn’t want to see someone she loves hurt.

lucina is more than willing to give her s/o more attention outside of training, all they need to do is ask. she knows what it feels like to be neglected, so she would never want her s/o to feel like that.

severa:

oh boy, a relationship with two people who constantly crave attention might not work out so well. but they can make it work if they try.

severa always wants to be praised, just like her s/o, so they’d have to take turns making each other the center of attention. like, one day is dedicated to [name] doting on severa, and the next is severa doting on [name], so both get the attention they need.

alternatively, if severa’s s/o needs a bit more attention, tell her outright. throwing hints won’t work because she’s a big tsundere and doesn’t want to ask if they need it. that’s embarrassing.

lillie:

she’s really good at giving her s/o attention, just because she’s a naturally doting person. + loves to see their smile when she compliments them for something they did!! it’s very cute to her, and it makes her smile just as big.

lillie doesn’t really go anywhere without them, after all, they are her travelling companion. so there’s really no time her s/o would feel down from a lack of attention.

still, if they ever do, she’s more than willing to cuddle up to them or give them a few extra kisses!!

#lucina #severa (fire emblem)#lillie (pokemon)#lillie #x reader #fire emblem: awakening #fe:a #fe13 #pokemon sumo #pokemon sun and moon #imagine #fe friday #headcanons

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phantomstatistician · 7 months ago

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Saturday Status Update

REQUESTS: CLOSED

The wait time for a request is: 56 working days

Upcoming charts (if the sample size is large enough):

Baldur's Gate - 10 most popular ships (AO3), Raphael, Cazador Szarr, Zevlor

Percy Jackson - 10 most popular ships (AO3), Percy Jackson

Fire Emblem Awakening - Lucina, Severa

Descendants - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Into the Spider-Verse - Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen

Harry Potter - Remus Lupin

Naruto - 10 most popular tags (AO3), Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Persona 3 - Akihiko Sanada

Powerpuff Girls - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Formula One (RPF) - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Yellowjackets - Lottie Matthews

Chainsaw Man - Denji, Aki

Addams Family - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular platonic ships (AO3)

Delicious in Dungeon - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Wicked - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Kill La Kill - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Persona 5 - Sumire Yoshizawa, Yusuke Kitagawa

Mario - Pauline

Undertale - 10 most popular ships (AO3) (no OCs, selfcest, or x Reader)

Invincible - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Chainsaw Man - Power

Soul Eater - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

RWBY - Jaune Arc, Oscar Pine

Women's Football/Soccer - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Project Sekai - Nene Kusanagi

DuckTales - 10 most popular characters (AO3), Della, Daisy

Leverage - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Dr. Who - Fifteenth Doctor

Legacies - Lizzie Saltzman

Black Clover - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Xenoblade Chronicles - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Arcane League Of Legends - Viktor

Canon - Anime vs Canon - Manga - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Mario - Bowser

X-Men - Magneto/Erik Lehnsherr

Mean Girls (2024) - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Buffy Summers

Homestuck - Vriska Serket (2016 - present), Crossovers (2016 - present)

Have a more elaborate request? Or want to jump the queue? Or you want to support me as a content creator? Buy me a Kofi!

#saturday status update

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queenofnightdreamland · 3 years ago

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Blue & Grey. Capítulo 9

Warnings/Advertencias: violencia típica del canon, canon divergence, mención de muerte, Obi-Wan en la silla del consejo jedi, inseguridad.

Pareja: Obi-Wan Kenobi x jedi! fem!reader

Word count: 3.2K

Simbología: ⎯ ⁘✦⁘⎯ (espacio temporal largo), ⎯ ✦ ⎯ (espacio temporal corto).

Notas Autor: nuevo OC, posiblemente el de mayor importancia, pero el gif de Obi-Wan era necesario porque es un placer verlo e iba con el capítulo. Cambié el canon de nuevo, adelanté el ingreso de Obi al consejo un año.

Masterlist Blue & Grey

◞────────⊰·•·⊱────────◟

Luego de pasar un par de días en bacta para sanar el tobillo, mientras estabas esperando por la salida del hospital escuchaste la noticia por parte de los droides médicos. Agen Kolar había fallecido luego de luchar varios días intentando sanar en el tanque de bacta, pero sus heridas habían sido muy severas y tratadas demasiado tarde.

Lamentaste la muerte del jedi, te permitieron asistir al funeral con ayuda de una silla para evitar que apoyaras tu peso en el pie lastimado. Pocos jedi asistieron, casi todos se encontraban en misiones a lo largo de la galaxia, entre los que estaban ausentes incluían a Obi-Wan y Anakin, quien ahora era un caballero jedi.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ahora, oficialmente habían pasado un par de meses después de haber iniciado la guerra, el consejo jedi te sorprendió al solicitar tu presencia en una reunión, lo que te preocupó ya que no tenías misiones planeadas hasta dentro de un par de meses.

Mientras observabas a todos los miembros del consejo presentes, ya fuese físicamente o por holo; de la boca de Yoda salieron un par de palabras que te dejaron congelada en medio de la sala. ¿Un puesto en el consejo jedi? ¿Tú de todos los jedi más capaces y obviamente más jedi que tú misma? Tu mente estaba trabajando a velocidades increíbles mientras todos los demás miembros del consejo te observaban atentos.

- ¿Encontrarse bien, maestra Starlight? – pregunta Yoda, luego de un par de minutos sin respuesta.

Parpadeaste un par de veces antes de asentir rápidamente – Perdonen, es sólo que la noticia me sorprendió mucho – admite intentando mantener la compostura y no dejar escapar una sonrisa traicionera o que su marca neutral de la fuerza se descontrolara –. Sería un honor.

-Tome asiento, Maestra Starlight – indica Mace Windu y asientes antes de dirigirte a un sofá desocupado, al levantar la mirada y encontrarte más tranquila notaste que estabas al lado de Obi-Wan quien te miró y asintió en señal de reconocimiento.

Tu mente divagó en la manera en que ahora llevaba su cabello, lo hacía ver más guapo que antes y te forzaste a devolverle la inclinación de cabeza y silenciar tus pensamientos. Por otro lado, ahora, definitivamente eras parte importante de la Orden Jedi, sería casi imposible que desconfiaran de ti, lo que te servía, así tendrías más oportunidades de intervenir con Anakin de ser necesario, pero esperabas que no llegaras a necesitarlo.

Tu primera reunión fue bastante sencilla, nada del otro mundo y cosas fáciles en las que votar. Tomaron un par de decisiones sobre la forma de actuar en ciertos aspectos con algunos planetas y a quienes enviar a cuales misiones. Luego de haber analizado los resultados de los primeros meses de guerra notaron que necesitaban personal en el campo de batalla, por lo que se propuso acelerar el proceso donde los iniciados serían promovidos a padawans para actuar como comandantes al lado de su maestro. Con respecto a este asunto, no cabía duda de que no estabas de acuerdo; eran niños, inexpertos, fáciles de manipular y de que perdieran el control ¿De verdad era necesario ponerlos en primera línea?

-Desacuerdo noto en usted, maestra – señala Yoda y levantaste la mirada un poco sorprendida. Se te había olvidado lo perceptivo que era Yoda.

-Perdón, maestro Yoda – responde y él te mira atentamente.

- ¿Compartir su punto de vista, quisiera?

Intentaste ocultar el sonrojo lo mejor posible, detestabas ser el centro de atención en la orden jedi. En la Orden Gris estabas acostumbrada, pero la paz de casi no ser notada te había gustado más de lo que debería.

-Bueno, pienso que apresurar la salida de los iniciados a padawans, en especial al campo de batalla no es algo que considere beneficioso para ellos. Son demasiado jóvenes, podrían caer al lado oscuro fácilmente – admites antes de encogerte de hombros. Todos te escucharon atentamente –. Aunque, ciertamente se necesitan más personas participando en la guerra. Dadas las circunstancias, creo que no tenemos ninguna otra opción, desafortunadamente.

Las miradas de los demás te alertaron, pero ellos asintieron bastante conformes para terminar ese asunto con una votación unánime. La orden jedi apresuraría la salida de los padawan al campo de batalla.

Una vez finalizó la reunión Yoda te detuvo de salir y esperaste atentamente al Gran Maestro Jedi. Lo respetabas mucho, pero tenía una visión muy ortodoxa y eso estaba acarreando muchos problemas, Anakin era un ejemplo claro de eso. Pero, no podías despreciar la cantidad tan increíble de sabiduría que poseía, aunque estuviese tan confiado en la estabilidad de la luz.

- ¿Preparada para tomar un padawan, se siente, Starlight? – pregunta mientras caminaban un poco, pero al terminar de escuchar la frase terminaste por detener tus pasos de manera abrupta, quedando congelada por segunda vez en el día. Tu reacción pareció complacer a Yoda.

-Perdón Maestro Yoda, parece que hoy es un día para darme muchas sorpresas – admites antes de inspirar y ofrecerle una respuesta – Si le soy sincera, no, todavía tengo muy poco tiempo de haberme convertido en caballero jedi. Me temo que no soy la más adecuada para tomar un padawan bajo mi cuidado – señalas y él asintió.

-Por esa misma razón, lista está – señala y sentiste el pánico crecer antes de que pudieses controlarlo y evitar que cubriera tu marca de la Fuerza provocando una risita en Yoda; quien sólo te observó inspirar profundo un de veces para controlar el pánico –. Controlar muy bien las reacciones ante emociones inesperadas, veo que puede… Muy orgulloso estoy – admite y comienza a caminar –. Por eso mismo el consejo decidido ha, previa a su inclusión al mismo, asignarle un padawan.

-Pero, Maestro Yoda, no creo que sea la más adecuada para tomar un padawan bajo mi cuidado – insististe con tono neutro, pero todavía cargado de suficiente pánico.

-Sus miedos infundados son, por su previa experiencia a la pérdida de un maestro, joven jedi – señala y se detiene frente a una sala donde estaba un reducido grupo de iniciados con tutela de dos caballeros jedi que les estaban guiando en la clase.

La única iniciada humana en la sala se veía frustrada, llena de lo que parecía enojo y luchaba por controlar el sable de luz lo suficiente para repeler los disparos de las máquinas de práctica.

Entonces, lo sentiste, la inestabilidad que tenía la pequeña de unos catorce años. Se sentía sola, perdida y que no pertenecía a la orden, casi podías sentir su desesperación comenzar a aflorar. Sentiste compasión, además de identificarte con ella en varios aspectos. A esa edad también te sentías como una extraña en tu propia orden, luchabas por dejarles en claro que no eras ningún prodigio y, además, comenzabas con la pubertad, buscando tu identidad. Fueron años duros que no hubieses logrado superar sin tu maestro, a él le debías todo.

-Puedo percibir que tiene un cúmulo de emociones no adecuadas para un jedi, maestro – murmuras sin apartar la mirada de la jovencita.

- ¿Ahora, la razón de que le asignemos este padawan, entendido ha? – pregunta, atento a la reacción que fueses a tener.

-Si maestro, pero sigo pensando que no soy la más adecuada… Tal vez el maestro Koon sí lo sea – respondiste bastante insegura. No querías tener un padawan, no eras un jedi, eras un jedi gris en cubierta, ¿Cómo podrías guiar a un padawan a ser jedi si tu misma no tomabas las decisiones basadas en el código de los jedi?

-Mucha inseguridad, noto en usted, Starlight – señala y bajaste la cabeza avergonzada.

-Sí maestro – admites, sabías que sería peor negarlo.

-La más adecuada, todo el consejo, que sería pensó – confiesa –. Incluso, su anterior maestro, Mace Windu – dijo con esperanzas de que eso te hiciera cambiar de parecer.

Usualmente que el maestro reconociera la capacidad de su antiguo padawan levantaba la confianza. Lo observaste de reojo discretamente y analizaste las palabras que te dedicó; la confesión… Eso no fue a la ligera, fue con una intensión que si fueses jedi hubiese elevado tu confianza a más no poder, pero no eras ningún jedi. Sin embargo, tenías que actuar como uno. Imaginaste el orgullo que sentiste cuando tu maestro y padre te decía lo orgulloso que estaba de sus trece hijos adoptivos, sus tesoros. Bañaste tu marca con ese sentimiento, esto provocó un asentimiento en el maestro de color verde.

-Bueno, creo que puedo intentarlo – admites, todavía mostrando que no estabas tan segura.

-Seguro que lo hará muy bien, estoy – señala y ambos continuaron caminando por el templo hasta que te separaste para dirigirte a los archivos.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Entrada la noche te encontraste con el Obi-Wan saliendo de los archivos casi al mismo tiempo y él te miró en silencio. Eran mucho más cercanos después de la misión que terminó desatando la guerra en la que ya llevaban varios meses envueltos, sabías que él te apreciaba como un igual, pero tú… ¡Qué tan diferentes eran tus pensamientos! Admirabas a Kenobi como jedi, tenía un don de negociar bastante grande por lo que te había parecido tan extraño que fuese un guardián en lugar de cónsul; pero luego lo conociste más a profundidad y entendiste la razón de que poseyera un cristal azul. La manera en que se lanzaba sin dudar para ayudar, su corazón tan lleno de compasión y la forma que parecía preocuparse por todos. A nivel de tu apego emocional hacia el jedi, sentías que tu corazón quería salir de tu pecho cada vez que lo veías y te recriminabas el hecho de que hubieses desarrollado sentimientos por alguien que se suponía no debías. Habías descifrado esos sentimientos poco antes de tu primera misión, cuando luego de una pequeña aventura con un hombre muy atractivo no logró quitarte el sentimiento que provocaba Kenobi en ti, entonces entendiste un par de cosas. Estabas derrotada, te sentías como un fraude, porque él era parte de la misión y siempre que se involucraban sentimientos estas no terminaban por salir bien.

-Maestro Kenobi – saludas y él asintió.

-Siento que se encuentra un poco preocupada – señala y asentiste derrotada – ¿Qué sucede?

- ¿De verdad pensaron que la mejor idea era poner un padawan bajo mi tutela? – preguntas, seria, sorprendiéndolo. Entonces, te tomó del brazo para guiarte por varios pasillos hasta un sector que estaba completamente desolado.

- ¿Por qué la noto tan insegura? – preguntó dejando libre tu brazo y colocándose en una posición de brazos cruzados, esperando.

-Porque lo estoy… ¿En qué cabeza pueden pensar que estoy lista para un padawan? ¿Qué pasa si lo guio mal? Ya de todas maneras es muy inestable.

-Veo que ya la conoció – señala él y asentiste exasperada.

-El maestro Yoda se encargó de convencerme, pero aun así no me creo capaz – admites al único jedi con el que te sentías lo suficientemente en confianza como para confesar eso. Era como si con él pudieses ser tu misma y no necesitaras ocultar tu forma de ser o aparentar ser un jedi de libro, como te había dicho Dooku meses atrás en Geonosis.

-Respira, por favor… Vamos, respira profundo – indica y te coloca las manos sobre los hombros, tu solo lo seguiste y al verte más tranquila asintió –. Si te sirve de algo, yo tampoco me sentía capaz de guiar a Anakin, creo que no ha salido tan mal – señala y no pudiste evitar reír provocando una sonrisa en el hombre.

Tenías varios puntos por debatir, pero en aspectos muy generales, sí, había hecho un trabajo muy bueno al criar a Anakin.

-No sé si sentirme tranquila o más preocupada – admites y él cerró los ojos negando divertido. Él tampoco, la verdad.

-Estoy seguro de que lo lograrás, nunca creí conocer a otro jedi más capaz que el mismo Anakin hasta que te vi entrar a esa sala de meditación – admite y no pudiste evitar sonreír un poco avergonzada.

-Si está intentando adularme, Maestro Kenobi, lo está logrando – respondes agradecida, por lo menos lo estaba intentado. Ahora veías por qué lo habían admitido al consejo jedi.

-Bien, porque intento que gane confianza en sus capacidades – responde y mantuviste una sonrisa adornando tus labios.

-Está bien, lo intentaré.

-Lo harás bien, eres muy sabia y perspicaz, lograrás guiarla por el buen camino – señala y te guía nuevamente por los pasillos hasta uno que si reconocías –. Además, si necesitas ayuda o consejo, puede buscarme, intentaré ayudarte en lo que pueda.

-Muchas gracias, Maestro Kenobi – respondes, ciertamente él te había tranquilizado más que Yoda.

-Por favor, si no le molesta, en privado puede llamarme por mi nombre – pide amablemente y lo observaste atenta, esos ojos color azul eran tu perdición.

Sentiste tu corazón aletear y asentiste – Está bien, sólo si hace lo mismo conmigo – pides de regreso.

-Así lo haré, Y/N… Nos vemos luego, con permiso – responde y se alejó con tranquilidad

Tuviste que hacer uso de toda tu fuerza de voluntad para no sonreír como idiota en medio pasillo del templo jedi. Hubieses quedado en evidencia, de seguro.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Al día siguiente Yoda te buscó en la sala de meditación y lo seguiste con tranquilidad sin preguntar a dónde se dirigían, podría estar llevándote a prisión que no ibas a reaccionar.

-Conocerá oficialmente, a su padawan hoy, maestra Starlight – confiesa y asentiste, sabías que la conocerías pronto, porque por la noche cambiaste de habitación –. Más tranquila, la siento.

-Sí, maestro – respondes con tono neutral.

- ¿Qué la tranquilizó tanto? – pregunta, interesado

Agradeciste que fuese un pasillo un poco oscuro, porque el sonrojo que te invadió hubiese sido muy revelador.

-Me encontré con el maestro Kenobi, me dio varios consejos – admitiste y el líder la orden jedi asintió.

-Ah si, muy joven el maestro Kenobi tomó un padawan… Más joven que usted – señala

-Lo sé, por eso me tranquilizó más de lo que esperaba. Hizo un buen trabajo con Skywalker.

-Bien, advertirla quiero antes – indica Yoda alertándote un poco –. Su padawan, indispuesta está, no quiere tener un maestro… Difícil el inicio, podía ser.

¿Un reto? Bueno, podrías trabajar con eso, definitivamente.

-Estoy segura de que lo lograré – respondes, ahora tu verdadera personalidad salió a flote, adorabas los retos. El escucharte con tanta seguridad, Yoda se sintió complacido.

-Lista, espero que esté – dijo para señalarte la puerta de la sala de entrenamiento donde se encontraba tu padawan.

Inspiraste, abriste la puerta y entraste con pasos seguros. La primera regla al enseñar era no mostrarse insegura, después de todo, eras la maestra. Tu mirada buscó por la habitación y te extrañaste al no sentir ninguna forma de vida, te moviste sobre el mismo punto donde estabas de pie y buscaste con tus sentidos ligeramente ampliados, pero no lograste encontrar nada. Volviste a concentrarte y ampliaste tus sentidos, habías aprendido a buscar seres sensibles a la Fuerza que suprimían su marca, esto era un juego de niños para ti.

La encontraste detrás de un pilar al fondo de la sala, por lo que te acercaste lentamente para luego sentarte a su lado con un suspiro. La niña se sorprendió al verte allí, pero intentó hacerse la indiferente.

- ¿Quién es usted? – pregunta y te volteaste para admirar a tu padawan.

-Y/N Starlight – respondes y sentiste su mirada analizándote.

Tú también la analizaste, su rostro un poco gordito, todavía con grasa de bebé, su piel tenía un tono acaramelado, ojos grandes y almendrados de color marrón, cabello color negro en ondas descuidadas con todas las puntas quemadas y posiblemente abiertas. Tenía una vestimenta típica de la orden, todo color crema y beige que no le favorecía en lo absoluto. Lo que más te llamó la atención fueron sus ojos, tenían tristeza, dolor y un poco de odio en ellos. Te encargarías de cambiarlos, no ibas a dejar caer a otra criatura al lado oscuro – ¿Y tú?

-Viorica Keelan – responde extrañada de ver que luego de unos segundos no tenías intenciones de irte. Usualmente todos se iban al escuchar su nombre.

-Viorica… Es una flor muy hermosa ¿la has conocido? – preguntas sin apartarle la mirada.

-No, nunca he visto mucho verde, a decir verdad.

- ¿De qué planeta eres?

-Jakuu, bueno, no realmente, pero me encontraron allí luego de que me vendieron como esclava a los cuatro años – admite un poco enojada.

-En ese caso, si logras demostrarme que eres lo suficientemente apta te llevaré a conocerlas ¿te parece? – ofreces

- ¿Apta? ¿Cómo qué? O ¿Para qué?

-Como padawan, Viorica – respondes y la miras con seguridad.

-Lo siento, pero debería de rendirse, no puedo bloquear un solo disparo del arma – responde y se puso de pie con rumbo a la salida.

- ¿Y no piensas demostrarle a todo el consejo que en realidad sí eres capaz? – intervienes sin ponerse de pie, lo que provocó que Viorica se detuviera.

-No lo soy, no puedo levantar bien una esfera, no puedo bloquear disparos con mi sable, no hago nada bien – señala frustrada provocando que la luz de la sala reventara y fragmentos de este saltaran por todo lugar. Realmente era muy inestable y poderosa.

-La verdad, esperaba que respondieras diferente – admites un poco decepcionada, te pusiste de pie antes de lanzarse a atacarla.

La chica no lo pensó mucho y se lanzó al suelo para evitar el golpe, no dudaste en volver a lanzar un golpe asustando a la muchacha. Estaba intentando escapar, estaba asustada. Luego de varios minutos esquivando los golpes y patadas que le lanzabas con medida y previendo la manera en que estaba escapando Viorica decidió que era suficiente. Se preparó para atacar, pero el puñetazo que le lanzaste conectó con su rostro en el pómulo; sin embargo, no dejó que el golpe afectara la decisión de intentar golpearte, su puño terminó impactando tu rostro en la mejilla. Esto te desbalanceó, provocando que te alejaras un par de centímetros. El golpe te sacó una ligera sonrisa, eso era lo que querías, que reaccionara y te atacara. Continuaste atacándola, cambiaste de técnica de batalla y la chica intentó seguirte el ritmo, pero rápidamente la dejaste reducida en el suelo, jadeando y diciendo que se rendía.

-Bien hecho – respondiste y le ofreciste la mano para levantarla. La expresión que te dedicó te hizo pensar que nunca la habían felicitado en su vida.

- ¿Se encuentra bien… Starlight? – pregunta al verte la mejilla roja. Te sorprendió un poco que no dijera maestra, pero ganarías que ella te lograra reconocer como tal. Que te dijera tu apellido ya era un avance – ¿No la golpeé muy fuerte?

-No, estaré bien, he recibido peores golpes – admite y le restas importancia, realmente te habías casi fracturado un pómulo durante tu entrenamiento en la Orden Gris, eso había dolido mucho –. Quiero que recuerdes que eres un padawan, haré todo lo posible en enseñarte, pero necesito que pongas de tu parte, ¿entendido?

-Sí – asintió, te gustaba lo que estaba sintiendo, se veía un poco más confiada, que, para su nivel casi nulo, ahora era como ver un gigante de confianza en lugar de una hormiga.

-Bien, ve por tus cosas, iremos a nuestras nuevas habitaciones – señala y ella miró hacia las banquillas donde descansaba un pequeño saco con una capa al lado, lo que provocó que arquearas una ceja – ¿Esas son tus cosas?

-Si, eso es todo.

-Bueno, vamos entonces.

En la habitación la niña se veía extrañada, era muy grande y lindo a pesar de tener dos habitaciones y un refresco.

-Viorica, ve a ducharte, prepararé algo de cenar, mañana iniciaremos con tu entrenamiento y no espero nada menor a la perfección – ella asintió y desapareció en el refresco mientras comenzabas a preparar algo en la pequeña cocina de la dependencia.

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