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happy74827 · 4 months ago

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Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

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wolvietxt · 2 months ago

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★ logan can’t sleep without you

a/n : shorter thoughts formatted like this now! (~800 words)

logan had spent the first hour lying still, one arm thrown over his face, trying to block out the dim light filtering in from the window. he’d turned over a few times, each time expecting to feel you beside him, your steady breathing lulling him to sleep, but the space was empty. cold.

he grumbled to himself, shifting his body again, tossing the blanket off because suddenly it felt too hot. you weren’t gone for long. just out of town for a few days, something you had to take care of. you’d kissed him before you left, told him not to worry. he didn’t. not in the way you probably thought, anyway.

but this... this wasn’t normal. he could feel the fatigue in his bones, weighing down on him like gravity, but sleep just wouldn’t come. his mind kept wandering back to the same thought. you. where you were, what you were doing. it wasn’t that he doubted you could handle yourself. hell, you were tougher than most people he knew. it wasn’t even that.

it was the goddamn silence. the empty space next to him where you should’ve been. it was all wrong.

logan rolled over again, eyes squeezing shut as if forcing them closed would somehow drag him into sleep. his body ached from the day’s work, muscles heavy and begging for rest, but his mind refused to follow. his thoughts were too loud, too restless. he’d grown too used to your presence beside him. too used to the way your fingers would brush against his skin unconsciously in the middle of the night, grounding him in that quiet way only you could.

he opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, voice low and rough.

another hour passed with no sleep in sight, and his frustration was only growing. he shifted again, flipping onto his side and glaring at the empty space where you’d normally be curled up against him.

the sound of the front door unlocking made him sit up quickly, heart kicking up a beat, though he’d never admit it. he listened as your footsteps padded softly into the room, and there you were - finally. you smiled at him, a bit tired but happy to be home.

“hey,” you whispered, setting your bag down quietly. “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“you didn’t,” logan muttered, voice rougher than usual. he tried to play it cool, but he was already moving over, making space for you in the bed, his eyes glued to your every movement. “couldn’t sleep.”

you paused, giving him a curious look. “couldn’t sleep?” you repeated, pulling off your jacket and slipping into bed beside him.

logan huffed. “don’t make a thing outta it,” he grumbled, but the second you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest. “just… missed you, is all.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how gruff he sounded, the way his words were soft despite the grumbling. “i missed you too,” you whispered, snuggling into him. you could feel how tightly he was holding onto you, something protective in the way his body curled around yours.

“yeah, well… don’t leave again,” he muttered, his hand coming up to brush the hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. he pressed a kiss to your temple, a little grumpy but undeniably affectionate.

“you got all needy without me, huh?” you teased lightly, expecting him to grumble back, but instead, he just pulled you closer, his face buried in your hair.

“maybe,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart softened at his admission. it wasn’t like him to need anyone, let alone admit it, but there he was, holding onto you like you were the only thing that could give him peace.

you smiled into the darkness, your fingers tracing small circles on his arm. “i’m not going anywhere.”

logan didn’t say anything else, just pressed his face closer to your neck, breathing you in, like that alone was enough to finally let him relax. within minutes, his breathing slowed, his grip around you loosening slightly as sleep finally took over.

you stayed like that, wrapped up in his warmth, his usual tough exterior softened just for you. and as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that despite all his grumbling, despite how hard he tried to hide it, he needed you as much as you needed him.

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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago

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What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

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thelostconsultant · 3 months ago

Text

Midnight rain

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.

“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.

It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.

Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.

“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.

And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.

The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.

That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.

“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.

“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.

You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”

At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.

“You watched it?”

“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”

There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”

“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”

You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.

You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”

He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.

But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.

Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.

When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.

“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.

He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”

Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.

After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.

But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.

You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”

He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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cherryswisherz · 28 days ago

Note

Oh boy I just had a thought of Paige tracking you on find my friends and her being PISSED that you’re not where you’re supposed to be/where she thinks you were going to be AND DRIVES THERE to confront you and the backseat of her car goes crazy after she drags you out of there.

She purposely parked way in the back in a dark corner for a reason, she’s MAD.

feel it

paige x reader

warnings: smut, degradation if you squint, overstimulation, lying, aftercare

"i'm gon make you feel it"

feel it (jacquees ft. lloyd & rich homie quan, 2014)

shitshitshitshitshit

the look in paiges eyes told me all i needed to know.

that i was royally fucked. she was gonna kill me.

SHIT.

as she marched me to her car that was parked all the way in the back of the lot, i kept looking at her, trying to read her. to find out what was about to happen. but i couldn't t and that stressed me out even more because paiges face always spoke before she did.

when we reached her car, i went to open my own door and paige snatched me up, pulling me back into her side.

"don't piss me off right now bro." she muttered, opening my door for me, as she always did.

now we were in the car... protected by tinted windows and distance. no one could see or hear us.

paige didn't start the car. she didn't turn on a light. she didn't speak. it was just silent and dark.

i heard her take a deep breath and mutter something to herself before turning the ignition, allowing the cars overhead light to come on so i could see her perfect fucking face.

but my admiration was interrupted by her leveled voice.

"are you out of your fucking. mind?" she asked, turning in her seat so she was looking at me. her hands were folded in between her legs and the leg that wasn't propped up against the seat was tapping.

i was too nervous to speak. my mouth was dry. my hands were clammy and suddenly the floor of this vehicle was very intriguing.

but then paige said "it's in your best fucking interest to answer me right now." and i'd miraculously found the will to activate my vocal chords enough to whisper "no."

"you're not? great. then why the fuck are you all of a sudden lying to me?" her head ticked to the side a little before she continued. "and i'm not saying the fit isn't hard, but why the fuck are you half naked right now?"

her leg tapping got fast to the point the car shook a little and i knew i was in some deeeeep shit. "because i didn't want you to be worried about me." i lied. i didn't tell her because i simply didn't want to.

i wasn't cheating, or drinking or anything, but i liked doing what i wanted, when i wanted, without anyone's permission and i thought paige would have just told me to stay home or tried to come with me and i needed the time away from her.

"baby. you're a 5'10 basketball player from fucking inglewood. you're 180 pounds of straight muscle. you have a fucking six pack. when have i ever ben concerned for your fucking safety?" her eyes cut as she leaned over the arm rest. she grabbed my jaw and turned me so i was looking her in the eyes again. "stop lying to me."

"i'm not lying baby." i put the puppy dog eyes on her and tried to butter her up, but it did nothing because her next words made my heart drop to my literal ass.

"get in the back." her tone was soft, and i could feel her anger as she pulled away from me, opened her door and stepped out of the car. "and take your pants off for me." she said before she shut the door. but rather than getting in the back seat herself, she leaned against the driver door, and pulled out her phone as if this was the most normal night ever and she needed fresh air.

but wasn't about to see what would happen if wasn't in the back when she returned so i climbed over the armrest and took off my jeans, sitting with my back to the door and my legs across the backseat.

i don't know how long i was waiting for her, but when paige joined me in the back seat, she simply slid in, picked my feet up and placed them in her lap.

"you know i love you right?" she asked.

"yeah..." i answered her, confused as hell. "why?"

she didn't answer right away. instead she grabbed my arms, gently pulling me into her lap. her big blue eyes were looking across my face and my spined tingled when she gave me a shit eating grin. "because you've clearly lost your mind, but that's okay because we're about to find it."

"oh?"

"yeah." she nodded, sliding her hands up and down my thighs. "you've been pissing me for the past 30 minutes and now you finna feel it. "

fuck.

she leaned over pulling me down for a kiss that felt more like a battle. our lips fighting against each other, hers winning.

i started to grind on her lap, trying to get some sort of friction and almost instantly, paige halted all movements, holding her hands at my waist.

i rested my head against hers, my eyes still closed, as i tried to catch my breath.

"look at me." paige said, raising a brow as she dipped her hand between my legs, drawing her fingers down my wet folds.

i drew in a visible breath, clenching my jaw as she caressed me in a way that left me with virtually no air left in my lungs.

with her eyes on mine-and mine on hers, i couldn't help the fire that burned onto my cheeks.

it was the way she was looking at me, and knowing i couldn't look away from her without a particular consequence.

"tell me why you lied to me." paige suddenly said.

i furrowed my brows. "i already told you." i forced out breathlessly.

"that wasn't the truth."

i blinked a few times- inevitably moaning when paige slid a finger into me.

"it was the truth." i quickly spit out, digging my nails into her covered shoulders.

paige raised squinted her eyes as they darted between mine, searching for the truth in my lies, "why you keep lying to me mama?" her voice was so calm. calm to the point where it was unsettling.

"i'm no-" a whimper vibrated in my throat when she slid a second finger into me, "paige." i whine, unconsciously arching into her fingers.

"why didn't you tell me where were you were going, y/n?" she asked her voice lowered and her stare bore into my soul.

i realized she wasn't gonna let this go, and it was pointless to keep lying. plus i really wanted to cum and she wasn't gonna let that happen until she had her answer.

"because and i don't need to be at your hip 24/7. i knew if i told you where i was going you were gonna want to come, or tell me to stay home or-"

i was cut off my my own whimper, feeling paiges pace quicken.

"oh please. don't stop on my account. keep telling me what you think you know." paige practically laughed, now deepening her strokes.

i clenched my jaw, shaking my head a few times as i desperately tried to get my moans under control. but even when i pressed my lips together, the guttural moans still vibrated in my chest.

especially when paige gripped my hips and guided me deeper into her strokes, causing me to tighten around her.

"i always thought you were smart, babe," paige murmured, "but now i think you might be one of the stupidest motherfuckers i've ever met." she bit out, making my face grow hot.

her words should have pissed me off in their insulting nature. but instead i felt a pit form in my stomach.

a long drawn out moan fell from my lips as soon as my orgasm washed over me, arching entirely into her body as her eyes never left mine.

"faster." paige demanded.

i shook my hand like a mad woman "paige-"

"ride me faster y/n." she cut me short.

a breathless whimper fell from my lips, suddenly guiding my hips back and forth against her fingers which made my legs tremble on either side of her lap.

"fuck- i cant," i forced out shaking my head as moan after moan vibrated form my throat.

paige only guided my hips herself now, quickening my pace even more, curling perfectly into my spot with each grind.

my face burned under her stare and she never slowed down, only pushing harder into me.

my second organs hit me like a mac truck.

"paige" i breathed out, digging deeper into her shoulders as my whole body shook against hers

i thought we were done. i thought she'd taught me whatever lesson she was trying to teach and we were gonna go back to her place and argue some more, but instead she began drilling into me father than before, moving her free hand from my hip and rubbing circles on my clit.

"oh shit-" i yelled out, trying pushing away from her, my head hitting the back of the driver seat. but my attempt at running didn't deter her, only egged her on as she tugged my shirt up, leaned forward and wrapped her soft lips around my hardened nipple.

i felt everything and it was all too much.

her fingers were digging me out, her thumb on my clit had me seeing starts and her tongue swirled around my nipple in a way that just made everything too much.

not even two minutes later, my jaw dropped and a scream from the pits of my soul fought its way out . i wasn't even shaking, it was like tremors ran through my whole body as i fell apart in my girlfriends lap.

tears wet my face and a i whined as paige pulled out of me after i'd calmed down a little. she continued rubbing my back and placed a soft kiss to my forehead.

then she pulled my head off her shoulders and made me look her in the eyes. "all you had to do was tell me you wanted to go out. i hate clubs and i would have understood that you needed some non-relationship related activity. don't lie to me again ma. okay?" her eyes were almost pleading with me in a sense.

i guess it was the fact that i'd never been in a relationship where proper communication was encouraged, but hearing that made me ache for her all over again.

"okay... but since we're not mad anymore... can we go home for round two?"

niyah speaks lil request and stuff i got some more cookin i pinky swear this time.

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @1onescu

@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn #aubrey griffin #paige bueckers fic #spotify #wcbb #kk arnold #azzi fudd #paige bueckers smut

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remuslupinslittleslut · 9 months ago

Text

No, like this

Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.

And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333

Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn

Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.

You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.

James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”

He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.

James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.

“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”

It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.

Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.

“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.

He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.

His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”

It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.

You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”

Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.

Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.

And then… nothing.

When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”

Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.

“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.

Tagged: @remussbitch

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pickingupmymercedes · 5 months ago

Text

It's not just a win - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

The 104th win Special - He's bloody done it ❤️

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Don't have anything to say really. I don't even think this gets close to putting to paper what it meant. To him. To us. But I also think it's going to take time for us to really understand how much this win meant.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

Y/n stirred gently in the early morning light, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the slits on the window of the motorhome. She blinked sleepily, her eyes slowly adjusting to the soft, golden hues that bathed the room.

The warmth from the arms around her brought a lazy smile to her lips, and as she turned, she saw Lewis lying awake, staring at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Good morning, GP winner" she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.

Lewis turned his head towards her, a content smile capturing his features as he returned from whatever world had been occupying his mind. "Good morning, love" he replied softly.

Y/n scooted closer, her arm draping over his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as he embraced her tight. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pick up as she looked back up at him " Wanna debrief?" her voice gentle and inviting.

Lewis sighed, his eyes gazing into hers, searching for the right words. "Just...thinking about everything," he admitted. "Yesterday was...a lot."

Y/n nodded, encouraging him to continue. She knew that he needed this, a chance to make sense of his emotions out loud.

"There were moments in the past few years when I doubted myself," he began, a low rumble in his chest. "That maybe I couldn’t do it anymore. That I should have retired. It felt like I would never win again. But then...yesterday."

"I thought I had healed from 2021" Lewis admitted for the first time to her, his voice low and hesitant. "I know I always told everyone I was through. And maybe I had tried to convince myself I had. But standing on that podium yesterday… I still have so much to give."

He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "I’m not one to accept love easily… you know that” he almost whispered shaking his head a bit as you lowly chuckled “But these past years… the energy and support people have given me. I couldn’t… I can’t let that go unnoticed.”

Y/n traced small circles on his chest, her touch soothing and grounding. "What makes you think that?" she asked softly.

"I kept catching myself thinking about Abu Dhabi," his voice barely above a whisper. "About how close… how everything just...slipped away. It felt like...like I had failed. Like I had let everyone down." He sighed, a deep, shuddering breath. "I just...I needed this. I needed to win. To prove to myself that I still can."

Y/n tightened her embrace, her heart aching for him. "You deserve every bit of love you receive, Lew." Her hand going to trace the lines of his cheeks where his beard started. “And I’m sure people don’t expect anything more than the best you can do. And I know you always try and give your best.

Lewis nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know. I know. But I could always fight on track those who doubted... and then when I couldn’t…" he shook his head looking away. “Finally winning again. At home, with everyone there, my mom, my dad, my family. You. It was...overwhelming. I sobbed when I got out of the car. I couldn't help it. It was like everything I’d been holding in just poured out because I knew I had proven myself. That I had shown everyone what you all believed in... even when I doubted it"

Y/n sat up a bit to reach for his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "There will always be challenges, always be obstacles. But you’ve proven time and time again that you can overcome them. You have an incredible strength, Lewis. And you don’t have to face them all alone. I’m here. Your family is here. Your team is here. And we’re always going to believe in you." she said honestly.

Lewis smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes "It felt like...like a new beginning. Like maybe, just maybe, I’m finally starting to heal." he said softly.

"It's not just a win, is it?"

He looked at her, his eyes glistening with tears. "No" he sighed; his voice thick with emotion. "It's...closure? Proof that I'm not finished. Not just yet."

Y/n agreed. "You can finally let go of the past now … or at least put it in its place."

He nodded, a sense of peace settling over him. "Thank you. For everything. For being here, for believing in me."

"Always," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I’ll always be here." she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

Lewis angled his head slightly, meeting her lips with his own. The kiss was tender at first, a sweet affirmation to her, but it quickly deepened. His hand found its way to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as he pulled her closer.

Y/n responded eagerly, her hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. She pressed her body to his side, savoring the feel of his warmth and his muscles.

The kisses grew frantic and soon they were wrapped up in each other, lost in the moment.

Y/n felt Lewis's hand slip under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. She arched against him.

When she felt his hand move lower, sliding towards the waistband of her underwear, she pulled back slightly, breathless. "Do we have time?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper. "You’re supposed to head to the factory this morning."

Lewis looked at her through hooded dark eyes "They can wait" his voice rough with desire. "I feel like celebrating a bit more." Y/n smiled, a slow, sensual curve of her lips, and leaned in to capture his mouth in another searing kiss.

But just as their lips met again, a sudden bark from the foot of the bed pulled them back to reality. They both glanced down to see Roscoe looking rather annoyed and impatient. His expressive eyes, almost accusing, seemed to say "Are you two quite finished?"

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating through Y/n’s chest. "Looks like someone needs to go to the bathroom" he said with a grin, his fingers gently brushing Y/n’s cheek.

Y/n laughed softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before sitting up. "Duty calls, go one dad, we’ll resume after" her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Lewis gave her a playful nudge before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Alright, buddy, let’s get you sorted" he said, his tone affectionate as he leaned down to give the bulldog a scratch behind the ears.

When he returned the sounds of running water drew his attention, and he made his way to the bathroom, a soft smile on his lips.

He found Y/n in the shower, the steam curling around her, obscuring his view. And as the mist cleared, he could see her silhouette through the glass door, the water cascading over her body. She glanced back through the glass, catching him watching her.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked teasingly, her voice thick with amusement.

Lewis chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Very much," he replied, his voice low and warm. Y/n turned to slide open the box door, her expression softening. "Care to join me?"

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Quickly shedding his clothes, he stepped into the shower, the hot water immediately welcoming him.

They stood there for a moment, letting the water pour over them, washing away the remnants of the previous day.

He was the first to reach out, his fingers gently trailing along Y/n’s arm, marveling at her. She almost felt exposed at his gaze, but the way his eyes held her captivated had her forget everything but him.

She stepped closer until their bodies were pressed together and he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, their movements slow and deliberate. A rhythm that was achingly familiar although their hands explored each other’s bodies like they had to reach every bit of skin they were yet to memorize.

Y/n’s fingers traced the lines of his muscles, her touch light and loving. Lewis mirrored her actions, his hands caressing her curves, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

The water continued to cascade over them, a warm, comforting presence that seemed to heighten every sensation. Y/n tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut as Lewis kissed a path down her neck, his lips leaving a trail of electricity.

"I love you " she breathed, her hands tangling in his loose braids as she pulled him closer.

"I love you" he whispered back against her skin; his voice filled with emotion.

They lost themselves in each other, the world outside the shower fading into insignificance. The water poured over them, mingling with the soft sighs and whispers that filled the small space.

When Lewis’s hands found Y/n’s waist, he pulled her flush against him as he kissed her deeply. She responded, her body arching into his, seeking more of his touch. They savored the moment, the feeling of being so close, so connected.

Y/n's hand slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the hard planes of his muscles. Her touch was electric to his skin.

She reached his half-hard erection, her fingers wrapping around him with a gentle but firm grip. She began to pump him slowly, her movements teasing and deliberate. Lewis groaned softly into her mouth, both of his hand finding her waist. Her pumping combined with the hot water cascading over their bodies was almost overwhelming. He responded by pressing her against the cool tile wall, his lips never leaving hers.

With one hand still wrapped around his length, Y/n used her free hand to anchor herself against his shoulder. Lewis lifted one of her legs, creating better access to her core. He positioned himself at her entrance, his eyes locking onto hers.

"You ready?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble.

Y/n nodded; her pupils wildly dilated. "Yeah" she breathed.

Lewis kissed her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers to muffle her moans as he slowly entered her. The sensation was almost too much, her walls stretching to accommodate him. He paused, holding himself still to regain control, feeling her warmth envelop him.

She gasped into his mouth, her breath hitching as he filled her completely. He waited a moment, allowing her to adjust, before he began to move. Each thrust was slow and measured, his lips still pressed against hers to keep their sounds low to possible bypassers around the motorhomes.

Y/n's nails dug into his shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her body arching to meet his movements. She bit down gently on the soft spot where his neck met his collarbone, making him wince in pain and pleasure.

The rhythm between them became more urgent, their need for each other driving them on. Lewis groaned softly, his grip on her tightening as he lifted her other leg, supporting her entirely against the wall.

The change in angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, eliciting a moan from Y/n that he quickly swallowed with another kiss.

As he felt her walls start to flutter, he pulled out to turn her in his embrace, her back pressing against his chest as she moaned in protest. He entered her from behind, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper.

One of his hands slid around to hold her close by her lower abdomen, pressing into the spot where he could feel himself pushing into her.

Y/n's head fell back against his shoulder, her moans growing louder despite their attempts to stay quiet. Lewis kissed along her neck, his other hand moving down to flicker at her clit with precise, deliberate movements.

"I'm so close" she whimpered, her body trembling.

Lewis's own control was slipping, the sensation of her tight around him driving him closer to his own orgasm "Let go" he whispered against her ear. "I've got you."

With a final thrust, he felt her walls clench around him as she saw white. Her body convulsed; her cries muffled by how she bit on the skin of his neck, her head hanging on his shoulders. The mix of her walls and the biting of his skin triggered his own release, a wave that left him shaking.

They held each other close when he pulled out and turned her on his arms, his forehead resting against hers. "Hi there gorgeous" he murmured when she opened her eyes to look at him, his breath still coming in ragged gasps.

Y/n smiled; her eyes glimmering with satisfaction. "You’re handsome too" she joked, chuckling softly.

They stayed like that for a few moments longer, savoring the intimacy of the moment and the water falling on them. Finally, Y/n reached out and turned off the shower, the sudden silence almost deafening after the steady sound of running water.

Lewis grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Y/n before pulling her into his arms. "I think that’s the best way to start the day," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp hair.

Y/n leaned into him, her heart swelling with love. "Couldn’t agree more. Now go, they’re waiting for their champion."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis hamilton smut #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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lumiolivier · 2 months ago

Text

Our Treasure

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2150

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

Things were quiet in Mihawk's castle. With the whole Cross Guild there, quiet was very, very concerning. Especially when both their treasure and their clown go missing

a/n: I wanted some Cross Guild shenanigans. Is that so much to ask for?

When things were quiet with the Cross Guild, that was never a good thing. Although, Mihawk and Crocodile would be lying if they said they didn’t appreciate the quiet. The two sat in the study in Mihawk’s castle, Mihawk indulging himself in a glass of wine while Crocodile sat back with a fresh cigar. It took them a moment to realize the quiet in the room. Or even worse, the emptiness. Mihawk’s eyes were deep in a glass of red when it dawned on him.

“Crocodile…” he watched as the wine sloshed around in his glass, “it’s quiet.”

“That seems to be the rumor,” Crocodile blew a cloud of smoke out, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Mihawk shook his head, “But have you seen the treasure today?”

“Not since this morning,” Crocodile shrugged, “Why?”

“Because I haven’t seen our treasure since early this afternoon,” Mihawk told him, “And I don’t know about you, but things are quiet.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Mihawk,” Crocodile let it go, “You’re overthinking.”

“I don’t think I’m overthinking,” Mihawk put the pieces together, “Because it’s quiet, Crocodile.”

“So, what?” Crocodile tapped his ashes on the floor, much to Mihawk’s dismay, “We don’t have Marines on our ass. The Strawhats are leaving us alone. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a win in my book.”

“Under any other circumstances, I’d agree with you,” Mihawk admitted, “But…Aren’t we usually a trio?”

“And we haven’t seen the pain in the ass clown either,” Crocodile tipped his hook, to Mihawk, “Hot damn, it’s a good day.”

“And,” Mihawk realized he had to spell it out for him, “We don’t know where the treasure is.”

And that’s when it hit him, “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit is right,” Mihawk scoffed, “Now, am I still overthinking?”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Crocodile bit the inside of his cheek.

And Mihawk stared blankly back at him, “Did you even believe that when it came out of your mouth?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Now,” Mihawk got up from his chair, “What do you think our next plan of action should be?”

Crocodile put out the rest of his cigar in the arm of Mihawk’s chair to join the collection of all the others. Again, much to Mihawk’s dismay, “We need to find that fucking clown.”

Meanwhile, in a much more secluded corner of Mihawk’s castle, Buggy holed himself up with that precious treasure that the whole Cross Guild wanted kept as safe as possible. However, Buggy grew jealous. He didn’t get nearly as much time with it as Crocodile or Mihawk. And he just wanted some quality time with it, too. Was that a crime? Of course, it wasn’t. He just wanted some time alone with their greatest treasure…You.

“You do know,” Perona floated above you both, “If either Crocodile or Mihawk find you two up here, you’re screwed, right?”

“Ahh…” Buggy brushed her off, “What are they going to do? It’s me! They need me.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Perona teased him.

“That’s not nice,” Buggy pouted, sending his foot to chase after her, “Besides, it’s not like I held a gun to your head and forced you up here, right, doll?”

“Of course.” Ever since the Cross Guild found you washed onshore on the beach outside the castle, it was Mihawk who fought to keep you around. There was something he found strangely interesting about you, but he could never put his finger on it. Even after being with them for the last six months, he still didn’t know what clicked in his brain to make him want to keep you. Perhaps it was that pretty face. Perhaps it was the bite in your voice when you tried to tell him you’d rather die than be forced to collude with pirates. And yet, those particular pirates…You grew attached.

“That’s the spirit,” Buggy sat down with a big case next to him and a brush in his hand. And his foot reattached. You would be his greatest canvas, “You’re just jealous, ghosty. You wish you were down here with me instead.”

“Please,” Perona rolled her eyes, “I’d much rather go through death several times over than have to deal with you.”

“Ouch,” Buggy clutched his chest, “Hurtful, Perona. Hurtful. I do have feelings.”

“And you seem to be under the impression I care about them,” Perona brushed him off.

“Alright,” Buggy pushed your hair out of your face and skimmed for a pallete, “Where were we?”

“We were playing fuck, marry, kill.” You remembered.

“That’s right,” Buggy nodded, “Alright…I got nothing.”

“I got one!” Perona chirped, “Fuck, marry, kill. Mihawk, Crocodile, Buggy. Go.”

“Oh, come on, Perona,” you whined, “That’s not fair!”

“Why’s it not fair?” Perona teased you. Because she knew far too much, “It’s just a simple hypothetical. I’m sure you can handle that much.”

“And…” You knew this couldn’t end good. You had fallen in love with each of them for their own different reasons. To rank them in something even as simple as a hypothetical felt wrong, “This is purely hypothetical? And won’t make anything weird?”

“Oooh!” Perona sang, “It’s going to be good!”

“Buggy,” you glared in Perona’s direction, “Can you send your foot after her again?”

“Of course, doll,” Buggy sent off his right foot and let it chase after Perona again.

“What the hell, clown?!” Perona ran off from Buggy’s foot, “I didn’t ask for this!”

“Ok,” you decided, “And no hard feelings?”

“Not one,” Buggy promised, “You could do no wrong, doll. You’re good.”

“Come on, YN,” Perona’s persistence wasn’t exactly your favorite sometimes, but you had gotten used to it. It was just the way she was, “You’re avoiding the question.”

“It’s alright,” Buggy let it slide, “I think I know which way you’re leaning. Shut your eyes for me.”

“Alright,” you did as he asked hand braced yourself for what came next. And it wasn’t just Buggy lining your eyes, “Fuck Crocodile, marry Mihawk, kill Buggy.”

“What the fuck?” Buggy squeaked, “What did I do?”

“Interesting,” Perona laid on her belly, her feet in the air…much like the rest of her, “I’m going to need an explanation.”

“Me, too!” Buggy whined. You could feel him painting little x’s next to your eyes. You knew he wouldn’t do anything stupid. That meant bringing down Mihawk and Crocodile’s combined wrath. And the fist of God was not something Buggy wanted today.

“Alright,” you began, “We’ll start with fucking Crocodile. Tell me you wouldn’t.”

“He’s definitely not the worst looking creature on the face of this earth,” Perona agreed, “I mean…What that hook do?”

“Take it from someone who’s ridden that ride,” you flashed Perona a mischievous little grin, “That hook do plenty…That cold metal in the right spots…Fuuuuuuuck, it does something for me.”

“Ooh!” Perona clutched her chest, “YN, you kinky little minx. Just when I think I can’t love you more.”

“And that’s before the main event,” you swooned, “That man makes a horse feel inadequate. To use the baby’s arm holding an apple analogy doesn’t come close. And he knows just how to use it. You get fucked by Crocodile, you don’t forget it. But getting fucked by Crocodile could also induce amnesia.”

“Fair,” Perona allowed, “Alright. Marry. Go.”

“Mihawk,” you went on, “Marry Mihawk. Hundred percent. And with Mihawk, it comes down to more than just sex. Not that I doubt Crocodile’s ability to take care of me, but Mihawk could probably take better care of me than Crocodile. And the sex between them? Crocodile is like a once, maybe twice in a lifetime fuck. Crocodile is the birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day fuck. Those three times a year and I’m good. Mihawk? Mihawk is the most incredible and gentle lover. And when it comes down to it, sweet, sweet love from Mihawk is going to keep me going longer than a down and dirty fuck from Crocodile.”

“And yet,” Buggy stared you down. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little hurt. However, it was Buggy. He knew how to turn it around, “You’ve slept with all three of us and you’re still going to pick the others over me?”

“Sorry, Buggy,” you wrapped your legs around Buggy’s waist, hoping a little grinding in his lap would make things better, “You just got caught up in the crossfire.”

“So,” Buggy wondered, balancing you on his lap, “How would you do it?”

“What?”

“How would you do it, doll?” Buggy asked, pushing your hair out of your face, “You said you’d fuck Hooky, marry Hawkeyes, and kill me. So, how would you kill me?”

You knew Perona liked to call you a kinky minx, but you knew who the real kinky one was here. You knew Buggy was into some things. And that was his business…Until he made it your business. So, you knew the more details you could put into it, the better, “Hmm…That’s a good question. It all boils down to if I want to get away with it or not. Because I could just go the easy, boring route and say I’ll throw you to the sea and let her take you. But that’s the boring way.”

“And I know,” Buggy cradled your cheek in his palm, “My little doll knows better than that. If I’m going to go out and at your hand, no less, I better go out spectacularly.”

“Depends,” you thought, “Would you be putting up a fight or would you accept your death execution style?”

“I’d be accepting of my death,” he decided, “Now, what should I be expecting? Because I’ve always thought an electric chair would be a fun way to go out. Sparkling until the end.”

“Sparking until the end, silly,” you giggled, your head on his shoulder, “How would I kill you…? I think I’d start with slow torture. You on the rack…My knives on your body…”

“Those aren’t going to work, sweetheart,” Buggy teased you.

“Just the skin,” you went on, “I’d leave so many pretty little cuts on you…But then, because I know damn well I can’t cut you up without you reforming, I think I’d be merciful. A hand on your throat while I ride you until your heart stops.”

“My, my, YN,” Buggy blushed a bit, “You spoil me. Really? All that for little ol’ me? Death by sex?”

“Erotic asphyxiation,” you left a kiss on his cheek, “What a beautiful way to go out.”

“Way to have your cake and eat it too,” Buggy left a little trail of kisses down your neck, “You get to fuck me, then kill me.”

“I kill you by fucking you,” you clarified.

“Alright, before I hurl,” Perona rolled her eyes, “Is that good enough? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I think so.”

“Wasn’t talking to you, YN,” Perona sighed out, “Are you going to keep standing in the hall, Mihawk, or are you going to come in?”

“Might as well come in,” Mihawk came into the room with Crocodile behind him, “So, this is where you two ran off to.”

“And here I thought we were going to have a quiet day,” Crocodile groaned, “YN, come here…”

“Hey…Croccy…Hawky…” Buggy suddenly got nervous, “We were just having a little fun…”

“I see that,” Crocodile pulled you into his side, “You alright, princess?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “I’m fine.”

“Good,” Crocodile kissed the top of your head, “Mihawk, go get her cleaned up. I’ll deal with Buggy.”

“And…And…” Buggy wondered, “How are you going to do that?”

Crocodile grabbed Buggy by his wrist, making sure he couldn’t separate and take off, “Golf clubs.”

“Come on, YN,” Mihawk took you out of the room, “Perona?”

“Yes, Mihawk?” Perona raced to Mihawk’s side, “Did you need something?”

“Were you aware of the clown’s poor life choices?”

“I…” Perona knew she had an ass chewing coming her way, “I might have. He just wanted to play with her, too, Mihawk.”

“I know,” Mihawk brought you down the hall to his bedroom. And then, to his bathroom, “Is everything alright, darling?”

“Everything’s fine,” you promised, “It was just Buggy and me talking. And he wanted to do my makeup a little. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Alright,” Mihawk sat you on his bathroom counter and started to clean off your face. He was so methodical about it and careful to not get anything in your eyes. Those were his favorite, “So…You’d marry me, would you?”

“How much did you hear?” your face immediately went red.

“That I’m a gentle lover,” Mihawk finished up, “And that apparently, Crocodile’s dick could probably demolish a building.”

“It is a battering ram,” you admitted.

“Well,” Mihawk decided, scooping you off the counter, “While Crocodile is out taking Buggy’s head to the back nine, why don’t I show you just how gentle of a lover I can be for you?”

And who were you to argue with that?

#one piece #one piece fan fiction #one piece brainrot #cross guild #cross guild x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #mihawk x reader #crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #buggy x you #crocodile x you #crocodile x y/n #buggy x y/n #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #cross guild as a polycule

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 13 days ago

Text

Enemies (Part Five) (Rafe Cameron)

Description: Based off Episode 10!

Word Count: 2,004

Author’s note: Whenever season 5 comes out is when I’ll continue this.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Y/N sat with her friends around the fire as they had hope that they would turn up to shore. Though Y/N wasn’t so sure. She saw the waves take them, How could they survive? She had been crying for so long that her eyes hurt and she needed sleep. She got up from the pogues and made her way to Rafe who sat by himself. He looked over at her as she came over.

She gave him a small smile they both knew was fake. He opened his arms and she collapsed in them. She groaned against his shirt as she was already falling asleep. He kissed her forehead as she drifted off.

When she woke it was daylight and the others were awake. Rafe was still holding her and he looked down at her eyes as she opened them. “You stink.” Was the first thing she said and he gave her a sarcastic laugh, “Like you don’t?” He asked. She definitely did.

They all did. She laid in his arms for a few more minutes before walking over to the others. “They have to be around here, there’s no way.” But Y/N didn’t believe that. She accepted in her mind that she lost 2 friends. JJ and Sarah. JJ was a troublemaker and very reckless but she loved him. He was always after trouble and sure that was annoying but he was the best.

Sarah was smart and so beautiful. She accepted people and not based on what they were. Kook or Pogue. She was awesome and her best friend. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about them. John B saw two people and he got the group's attention. Everyone gasped as they saw two people who from a distance looked like Sarah and JJ. “I��ll go check.” “I’ll come with.” Y/N said and they walked to see.

John B’s eyes lit up when he saw them and Y/N let out a sigh of relief. Sarah ran up to hug him and JJ gave Y/N a hug. “I thought you were dead.” She whispered. “I’m immortal.” He joked. They switched and Y/N hugged Sarah.

Rafe looked happy to see that she was alive. They all sat around the fire well sorta. Rafe was on the same side but facing the other way as the others talked. Y/N was holding his arm as they laughed.

“You know what would be a good baby name?” JJ asked. Y/N looked at Rafe confused. “JJ what?” She asked. Sarah was pregnant. “Sarah, you’re pregnant?” Y/N jumped up from the ground. Sarah nodded and Y/N ran over to hug her. “Congratulations!” She said.

Getting separated from the others was not ideal but she wasn’t about to let Rafe get arrested. For once he didn’t do anything. “Are you okay?” She asked, grabbing his hand. He nodded and started walking the other way of where the pogues went.

“We are finding Groff.” He told her. “What about them?” She asked. “We’ll see them.” Though she was nervous that wouldn’t be the case. Groff wasn’t easy to find but she thought she would find herself stepping on the top of buildings and houses in a foreign country for anyone. Rafe and her had on “disguises” which were just fancy coats.

She felt rich with it thanks to Rafe. Y/N gasps as she sees the dude that was trying to kill her and her friends. She and Rafe had behind a sheet for a second until Rafe threw a punch at the guy. Groff notices him and Y/N could tell that he was nervous. He truly had no idea who he messed with. Y/N couldn’t help but feel super hot seeing Rafe beat the piss out the guy. “Let’s go.” He calls her and takes Groff.

“You’re lying to me.” Rafe yells at him as he confronts him about the money. Y/N just watches and wishes she had some popcorn. Groff kept looking over at her. “Who’s this?” Groff asked and Rafe scuffed. He ignored the question and kept yelling at him.

Groff didn’t have the money. Though that wasn’t the surprising part. The surprising part was that Sophia (Rafe’s cousin) set him up. Sophia was staying at his place while he was gone and when he and Y/N came back he planned to buy her her own house.

That was no longer on the table and Rafe was pissed. Groff was being very cocky for someone who was about to fall. Literally in a well. Rafe was laughing like a maniac. Y/N leaned over the well and even chuckled herself. “You messed with the wrong guy.” She yelled to Groff. “You tell him baby.” Rafe laughed.

“Let’s get out of here.” He says as Groff is yelling his name. He had the map to the crown now and all they had to do was get it the pogues or at least that’s what Y/N thought was going to happen. “What are we doing?” She asked as Rafe opened the map. “We are finding the treasure.” He tells her. She glares at him, “Rafe, we have to get this map to my friends. You didn’t care about the treasure.” She points out.

He chuckles and looks at her, “yeah well my money is gone sweetheart. You are your friends can get a part of the money.” She wanted to take the map and run but realized what kind of man Rafe was and knew that wasn’t a good idea. “Rafe.” She warned. “I need you to help me read the map.” He tells her, ignoring her obvious anger towards him.

“Promise me that you aren’t going to take it and run.” She growls. He looks at her, “I promise you that you and your friends will get your part.” He says. She looks at him. Though they’ve had fun together these past few days, she’s well aware of what he is capable of. “If you’re lying to me and you take the money and run, you can kiss my ass goodbye and I’ll make sure to hunt you down.” He thinks he just fell in love with her.

They walked through the sand holding hands as she wore the pendant. He holds the map as the walks to the location. “Rafe.” She said and they look over to see a sand storm starting. “Holy fuck.” “We gotta move fast.” They didn’t get a chance to as they ended up being held at gunpoint. Y/N felt her stomach turn as she realized that there wasn’t a way out of this. They were fucked.

“That’s my brother and my best friend.” Sarah said and took the shot. Y/N screamed and Rafe took her hand and ran. The others followed. Rafe was about to shut the door before they all screamed at him to wait. Y/N laughed as she saw her friends. “You’re okay.” She breathed out and hugged Sarah. “Thank you for saving us.” She said. Rafe refused to give the map over.

“Rafe.” Y/N sternly said his name. “You’re gonna betray me just like everyone else in my life has.” He said to Sarah. Y/N saw him tear up. “Rafe no we won’t.” Y/N tried but he stepped away from her. Her jaw dropped. “Rafe…” “Dad would want us to work together.” Sarah said to him. Rafe always thought that Sarah got him killed but she finally told him. “It’s true Rafe. I was there.” Y/N told him, she had tears in her eyes. Sarah did as well.

“Rafe, I'm not going to betray you. Sarah isn’t either.” She walked up to him and cupped his face. “Rafe, I love you. You can trust me. I promise. And you trust Sarah too.” Rafe looked at her with tears streaming down his face. Sarah hugged him and he looked down lost in thought.

The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. “This is nice but we have to go.” Kie said. Rafe gives John B the map and Y/N takes the pendant and helps them. Rafe wasn’t any help other than complaining. “Heaven.” John B said as the other three paced trying to think. “John B hold up the map to the sky.” It was like they shared the idea. He did and she gasped. “Guys look.” He said and they all stared at the map. “What is that?” Rafe asked.

It was like luck was in their hands and they were near the crown. Y/N gasped. The crown was somewhere in the sand statue. They all ran as the same storm got worse. “You guys go back.” Kie said to John B and Sarah. Y/N watched as they ran away. Rafe pulled her along.

The storm was bad. JJ decided he would be the one to get the crown. Y/N gasped as the other people trying to get the crown started shooting at JJ. “I’ll go stop them.” Rafe said. “No.” Y/N grabbed him. “I can’t lose you.” “You won’t. I’ll be back. I love you.” He tells her. “Rafe, they will kill you.” Kie says. “I’m a killer too.” He said and ran off. Y/N was so nervous watching JJ and thinking about Rafe. Her and Kie yelling at JJ to hurry up.

JJ was screaming and yelling about the crown and hoped down to the girls. “Look.” He said and showed them. Kie and Y/N looked at each other and gasped. They had it.

Y/N ran ahead of them to find Rafe. She yelled his name in hopes that he would hear and that he wasn’t hurt or dead. “Y/N.” He yelled back and she turned and gasped. He was okay! “You’re okay!” She said and he picked her up and kissed her. She smiled against his lips. Tears in her eyes. “I told you I would be.” He said. “I love you so much Rafe Cameron.” She said and nudged his nose with hers.

He set her down and kissed her again. “I need to ask you something.” He said and she nodded. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone and I haven’t been through half the shit we just went through with anyone.” She smiled at his words. He sank to one knee and her smile dropped as her jaw did. “I know this is crazy but so was everything we just went through so I need to know.” He pulled out a ring. Y/N felt tears in her eyes. “It’s my mothers ring.” He states. “Will you marry me?” She let out a sob and nodded.

“Yes.” She said and slid the ring on her finger. He stood up and kissed her. “I love you too Y/N Y/L/N.” He said. “We have to find the others.” She said and the ran in the way she came. Y/N felt so happy about everything. They got the crown and she was engaged to Rafe Cameron. The man she thought she would never fall for. Life was good.

She saw everyone crouched around something. Shoulders shaking. They walked over and she gasped. JJ. “No.” She said and got on the ground next to him. He wasn’t breathing. Tears streaming down her eyes and sobs racked through her body. Rafe fell to the ground to hold her. JJ Maybank, one of her best friends, was dead.

Y/N watched as Rafe buried him. She couldn’t believe it. Everything was great for like 5 minutes. The crown was gone and so was JJ. Everyone sat around the fire, tears in their eyes as Rafe paced. “If that was my best friend, I would be out for blood.” Rafe said. “JJ wouldn’t sit here and sulk. He’d want to kill Groff.” Y/N said.

Sarah and Kie agreed. Rafe came and sat next to Y/N. He looked over at her and saw that look in her eyes. He knew it all too well. He, himself, has had that look in his eyes. It was the look of blood, the need and urge to kill. “Revenge.” Kie said. “For JJ.” Y/N growled.

#rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx #obx season 4 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #jj maybank #sarah cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #cleo obx

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eternalxvenus · 8 months ago

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)

cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)

wc: 1.2k

notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)

previous chapters: part 1

You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.

After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.

You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.

"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."

You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.

You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."

Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.

"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."

"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"

Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."

Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."

"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about."

This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.

"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.

You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.

"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"

He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."

"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."

He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."

You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"

He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"

"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over."

You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.

"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."

"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."

"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."

You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."

"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.

Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.

You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.

Rafe: of course, goodnight

You: goodnight

Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal.

As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

part 3

likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 months ago

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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 11: The Innocent Can Never Last]

A/N: Below are your guesses…let’s see how you did!!! 🥰😘 Only 2 chapters left 🥳

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“You could have gone to California with them,” Rio says as he flips open the fuel cap of a black Nissan Frontier, parked in the driveway of a two-story brick house on National Avenue, not far from where Route 95 branches north of Winnemucca like an artery from a heart.

You squint up at the cumulus clouds to avoid meeting his eyes. You keep thinking you’re going to cry and have to suffocate it, drown it, slit its throat. “I didn’t want to.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Sweat runs in rivulets down his face as he slides in the semitransparent siphoning hose, the one with the little pump on it that Jace had when you found him in Iowa. Aemond gave this to Cregan; he kept the hose without the pump for himself. A small, curious sacrifice. You are fanning Rio with a magazine, Bow International. You had grabbed it thinking of Daeron, then remembered he wasn’t here to give it to. “Jesus Christ, it’s so fucking hot…”

“Djibouti was hotter.”

“Djibouti had a beach. And an air conditioning unit in every window.”

Cregan is waiting by the Tahoe and leafing through a guidebook he found at the Maverik gas station. Ice is lying on the ground and panting beside him, her shaggy grey coat filthy with dust and sand. “The town was named for Chief Winnemucca, who was born in the 1820s in what would later become the Oregon Territory. It either means ‘the giver of spiritual gifts’ or ‘one moccasin,’ depending on the interpretation.”

Rio says: “Damn Cregan, you can read?”

Cregan frowns down at the guidebook with feigned regret. “I really wish Trump had built that wall.”

Rio guffaws. “Cregan, man, I told you. I was born here!”

He continues: “Winnemucca was a stop on the transcontinental railroad.”

“Great. Let’s get that up and running again.” Rio groans as he squeezes the pump on the siphoning hose with increasing frustration. “Absolutely nothing. Not a drop.”

“We probably have enough to get to Denio Junction,” you say gingerly, knowing he’s suffering. It has to be over 100 degrees.

“Yeah, and what if there’s no gas there? How the hell are we going to get to Adel, Oregon?”

“We could walk if we have to.”

“85 miles? In heat like this?”

“In basic training we had to run—”

“We had water in basic training, Chips!” he snaps; and Rio never snaps. “And real food, and corpsmen for if we passed out, and also there were no fucking zombies running around eating people, remember that part?!”

You stare down at the dirt. You can’t cry; you can’t waste the liquid.

“Wait, no, no, no, I’m sorry.” Rio lifts your chin so you aren’t able to hide from him. “I’m…you know…I should already be there. I could be in Odessa in six hours, I could be with Sophie and the baby before sundown, and instead we’re stuck here in the desert and I’m thinking…what if what should take hours ends up taking weeks? What if when I get there, I’m too late?”

You nod, you understand. Out on the road, Cregan keeps his face buried in his guidebook, trying to be polite and pretend he can’t hear you.

“And, I’m also thinking…” Rio says, soft and low. “That I don’t want to be the reason why you miss out on a chance at happiness when the world could literally be ending.”

You gaze up at him, dejected, pathetic. “I can’t handle any virgin jokes right now.”

“I know. I wasn’t going to make one.”

“I didn’t want to go with them to California,” you lie. And then a truth: “And I would never leave you. I promised.”

Rio smiles. “You promised not to let me die alone, and I don’t plan on dying. You’ve gotten me most of the way already.” He glances towards the Tahoe. “I think Axe Boy would have rather stayed with them too. When he was asleep last night I heard him mumbling something about Helaena.”

Cregan? Helaena? Interesting. “Aemond doesn’t want me.”

“Oh, come on. You know he and his one eye are sobbing into a can of SpaghettiOs right now.”

“Be nice,” you murmur morosely.

“Why? He can’t hear me,” Rio says. “Look, Aemond’s fucked up. And of course he is. He went from learning how to save lives and deliver babies to watching his friends die horrible, preventable, completely meaningless deaths. That’s gotta suck. It sucked for me, and I barely even knew them, and no one expected me to be able to do anything about it. Aemond’s the one people trusted to protect them, and he couldn’t. So why would he be able to protect you?”

I never wanted Aemond to protect me. I just wanted him to take me away from here, even for a minute, even for seconds, one hushed stolen moment at a time. “I wish I had said something different back in Battle Mountain.” I wish I had told him I love him. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late.

“You deserve to have the whole wholesome normal family thing, the husband and the kids and the warm fuzzy holiday traditions. I know you’ve always wanted that.”

“If I choose the wrong person, I’m going to end up alone and miserable. And I’ll turn into a monster like my mother.”

“Hey,” Rio says, like he’s ready to fight you. And then he uses your real name, something he’s done maybe five times since you met him, just like you almost never call him Bryan. “You will never be like your mother. Okay? It’s not possible. You don’t have it in you. You’re not a parasite, you’re not mean.”

You want to believe him. “Okay.”

Then Rio chuckles. “Actually, you’re going to end up like my mom. Living in the middle of the woods, making your own soap out of goat milk, growing weed and knitting sweaters.”

You smile wistfully. “I have no idea how to knit. I want to build things.” Then you remember something from when you were fishing on Lake McConaughy in Nebraska. “Aegon said I look like someone who knits. Whatever that means.”

“It means you’re from Kentucky.” Then Rio asks, tentative: “So…what do you think about Aegon?”

This seems random. “He’s cool. I like him, obviously. He’s, um…I don’t know how to describe it. He’s so sad but so warm. It’s impossible to feel nervous around him, which is nice.”

Rio nods, giving you a teasing smirk. “Alright then.”

“Why?”

“Well I was just thinking that if he grows up a little more, he might be good for you.”

“Rio, he’s thirty.”

He bursts out laughing. “So give it another decade and he’ll finally be baby daddy material.”

“I’m sure he’ll be preoccupied with his drug dealing and brothel empire by then.”

“You aren’t even the tiniest bit intrigued?”

“I’ve never really thought about him that way.” And there’s another dimension to it that wouldn’t occur to Rio: Aegon is an addict. You know what it’s like to have to depend on somebody like that. You would never allow yourself to fall in love with him, not the way he is now.

Rio sighs and pivots. “You want me to give you a baby?”

Now you’re giggling. Of course, he’s not serious, just like he wasn’t serious when you were trapped on that transmission tower together back in Pennsylvania. “Stop.”

“I’m super tall and charming, and I was a great electrician back when electricity existed, and I have luscious curly hair that you can readily observe since the U.S. Navy isn’t around to make me shave it off anymore.”

“Sorry, I don’t reproduce with Enrique Iglesias fans.”

“You are so racist, and yet I’d still be willing to help you out with a sperm donation. I’d blindfold myself and struggle through it somehow.” He’s grinning, but his dark eyes are kind. “As long as I’m alive, you will always have a family. And Sophie gets that. Her parents were fuckups too. That’s why she’s so close with mine even though they’re insane.”

“They’re exactly the right kind of insane for the way the world is now.”

“Remember when my dad went through his ‘wifi gives you cancer’ phase and would only communicate with me via Republican-president-themed postcards?”

“The Ronald Reagan one was neat. So many eagles.”

“Truly an excessive amount of eagles.” Rio goes for the porch. “I guess we’ll scrounge whatever we can inside and check the rest of the cars on the street before we head north.”

“I ain’t seen any others without the fuel cap already open,” Cregan says from the Tahoe, dispirited but trying not to show it.

“If we end up having to walk, we’re going to need water or Hawaiian Punch or something. A lot of it. Maybe we can find some of that Pedialyte stuff Aemond got for Jace when he was sick.” Rio pounds one closed fist against the front door. “Hey! Anybody home? We’re looking for supplies. Not trying to cause any problems. If somebody’s in there, just give a shout and we’d be happy to keep moving.”

You’ve followed Rio up onto the porch. “If there’s no water inside, canned fruit will work. You can drink the syrup for hydration, and all the sugar gives you calories.”

Back by the Tahoe, Cregan is leaning down to pet Ice. She’s still panting hard, foamy saliva dripping from her muzzle. “Y’all, we gotta get moving,” Cregan says. “Princess needs to be back in the truck with the AC, and I don’t want to waste gas by letting it idle.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on it.” Rio kicks the door once, hard enough that you hear the wood split near the hinges, dry and cracking. He backs up to prepare to give the door another blow, which is all it will take. Then there is a muffled voice from inside the house.

“Get the hell off my property!”

Immediately, you are stunned by the boom of an explosion, shards of wood flying like shrapnel, the steel barrel of a shotgun jutting from the fresh hole in the center of the door. Rio is scrambling off the porch and dragging you with him. With your free hand, you grab your M9 from its holster and begin shooting before the man inside can fire again, before he can kill Rio or Cregan or you. Your bullets pierce through the blackness of the gaping wound in the front door. You hear shrieks of agony; you see flecks of blood painting the wood. Now there are people shooting from the second-story windows, and you feel the wind of bullets clip by as Rio pulls you towards the Tahoe. The engine starts; Cregan is already in the driver’s seat. You return fire until your M9 makes only small, hollow clicks when you pull the trigger. And by then Rio is shoving you into the truck.

“Go, go, go!” Rio yells at Cregan the second he crawls in behind you and slams the door shut. Cregan swerves away from the curb and barrels down the street, tires squealing, gunshots still ringing out from the house. Ice is barking franticly.

“Rio, I’m out,” you say, terrified.

“What?”

“Bullets. I’m out of bullets.”

“We gotta go,” Rio concedes. There are scratches on his cheeks from splinters of wood, sweat turning from clear to blood-tinged pink as it drips down onto his shirt. “We gotta get out of Winnemucca. If we have to walk, we’ll walk. At least there’s no one north of here to worry about for a hundred miles. Not living and not dead either.”

From the backseat, you glance over at Cregan. “Oh my God, Cregan, you’re hurt.”

“I know.” His right forearm is covered in blood. It’s a graze wound, but deep; when he turns the steering wheel, you can glimpse the white of bone as his shredded muscles open like a mouth.

“You need stitches!”

“Oh yeah?” Cregan replies as the Tahoe bumps over corpses in the street, bodies mummified by the wind and the sun. “And which of you two would be better at that, you think?”

“We’ll get supplies to patch you up,” Rio says, peering out the window, searching for someplace to stop. “And enough food and water to last us through the desert. Right there, hop on Route 95, and we’ll find a store at the edge of town before we’re in No Man’s Land.” Cregan jerks the wheel; the Tahoe veers onto Route 95 heading north. Boarded-up houses and graffitied overpasses and gnarled bristlecone pine trees and lifeless traffic lights and looted storefronts pass by in a blur.

You turn to Rio. “What if those people try to follow us?”

“It’ll only take five minutes.”

“Rio…”

“We don’t have enough to drink. If we get stranded in the desert, we’ll die. I’m not dying out there. I didn’t cross 3,000 miles to drop dead just a few hundred away from Sophie.”

He’s right. There’s no other option. North of Winnemucca is a wasteland, a boneyard. “Okay,” you surrender, helping him look for stores. “But we have to be quick.”

“I can be real quick, baby. You’d know that if you took me up on my very selfless sperm donation offer.”

Cregan raises his eyebrows; you can see his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Y’all have a mighty strange relationship.”

Rio is pointing. “Right there, Riverside Grocery & Liquor. Let’s give that a try. Cregan? You see it? By the Taco Bell.”

“Of course you’d be attracted to Taco Bells,” Cregan says as the Tahoe zigzags across the parking lot, but his voice is woozy. Blood pours from the gash in his arm. What if the bullet severed a major artery? What if he’s bleeding to death?

You ask: “Cregan, do you feel okay?”

“I’m alright. Don’t you worry about me, Miss Chips. You got enough worries already.”

“You don’t look alright.”

His eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror; they are fearful. “I think I need to get pressure on it.”

“We’ll take care of you, buddy,” Rio says. And as soon as Cregan shifts the Tahoe into park, Rio is out the door and striding into the small grocery store, his Remington 12 gauge in his hands. It’s unloaded, but still good for blunt force trauma. The glass of one of the front doors has been shattered. Rio steps inside, his boots crunching on broken glass. You are right behind him; Cregan lifts Ice with his uninjured arm so she can get inside without cutting her paws.

Harsh desert sunlight streams in bright enough that you can see reasonably well, dusk or dawn instead of midday. The air tastes like dirt and decay. The shelves of alcohol have been picked clean, but cans and bottles and cardboard boxes have been left strewn haphazardly around the rest of the store. There are several circular racks of souvenir t-shirts: horses, mountains, pine trees, I was a buckaroo on the Cowboy Corridor, #DesertLife, Straight Outta Winnemucca. You yank a white shirt with a rattlesnake on it off its hanger and tie it tightly around Cregan’s bleeding forearm, closing the ragged ends of his wound.

Ice is whining and nudging at Cregan. “There’s one in here,” he warns.

“Yeah, I got it,” Rio says. She staggers out of the stockroom hissing and growling, the flesh on her face almost completely gone, her exposed skull stained with clotted blood, her teeth chattering. Long strands of blonde hair hang in patches from the back of her head. She is wearing a red vest with a nametag on it. Once upon a time, her parents called her Jasmine. Rio strikes the zombie with his Remington so hard it is decapitated, and the corpse crumples to the filthy tile floor as its head rolls over towards the cash register. Then he slings the shotgun over one of his shoulders and begins shopping.

Cregan is tall enough to see the tops of shelves where items have been missed; he pulls down bottles of Snapple, Gatorade, Yoohoo, Jarritos soda and stuffs them into his backpack. You are on your hands and knees sorting through the debris on the floor, everything coated with a layer of dust and sand. You find cans of mandarin oranges, boxes of graham crackers, tuna pouches, and packets of Tylenol. Cregan will need them. He needs more than that, but you can’t give it to him. You’ve never been to medical school. You grab more souvenir shirts to use as bandages later.

Maybe there are doctors in Odessa.

Rio says excitedly from the other side of the store: “Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!”

Maybe there’s a life worth living in Odessa.

“Just hurry up so we can go.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He’s filling his arms with boxes and bottles, making a lot of noise. Ice is pacing and whimpering, panting like she can hardly breathe, drooling gluey strings of saliva. The grocery store is an oven. Cregan pops open a can of Arizona iced tea and pours it into her mouth to be gulped greedily down. Still, Ice’s yellow wolfish eyes dart around the room, vigilant, rattled.

“I think there’s another zombie,” you say, watching her. You reach for your M9 before remembering it’s unloaded.

Cregan replies: “Sure she ain’t just overheated?”

Somewhere close, less than a mile away: gunshots out on the streets of Winnemucca.

“Ready, kids?” Rio says, his arms overflowing, half a Slim Jim hanging out of his mouth like a cigarette.

“Yes sir,” Cregan agrees. The t-shirt you knotted around his forearm is splotched with crimson, but the bleeding appears to have slowed. Fragments of glass shatter as he crosses through the doorway and out into the parking lot, carrying Ice as she struggles and barks.

Rio pauses as he passes one of the other t-shirt racks, circles of metal that gleam like halos. He’s rearranging his supplies so he has a free hand to grab a shirt he likes. There are more distant gunshots outside, and the squealing of tires. In the parking lot, Cregan is starting the Tahoe.

You say distractedly, noticing an empty Twizzlers wrapper on the floor and thinking of Jace: “Rio, let’s go.”

“Hold up, this one has an elephant on it—”

The hand juts out from below the rack and seizes his ankle, claws up his legs, rips and tears at him, grey flayed flesh and screeches from rotting vocal chords, something that used to be a man or a woman and is now only a monster, half a body, nothing from the waist down but shred of black necrotic muscle, skin, intestines, too close for Rio to push away, already clinging to him like graffiti on concrete, like a pair of stainless steel dog tags hanging from his neck. Without thinking, without hesitating, you are across the store and trying to get it off him, screaming as your fingers rake through disintegrating gore, so deep you can feel the zombie’s ribs like rungs of a ladder, trying to get a grip on it, trying to kill it. Now Cregan is back with his axe and he’s hacking at the skull as best he can without hitting Rio, and Ice is barking, and Cregan is yelling for you to get away before you’re bitten, but you don’t listen, you don’t care; all your life you were homesick until you found homes with Rio thousands of miles from where you were born, and if he’s gone then so is the only place you’ve ever belonged. There is a surge of blood, hot and metallic, rot and iron in the air, and you don’t know whose it is.

He can’t be gone. If he’s gone, who am I?

An arm hooks around your waist and drags you backwards, so roughly you lose your breath for a moment and cannot fight them; over your right shoulder, you see a hand holding a Glock. Aemond pulls the trigger and the zombie falls to the floor, a mangle of decomposition and exposed bones, because wherever the others ended up they found bullets and gasoline…and then they came back for you.

Aegon is stumbling over the rubble that litters the floor to get to Rio. You can hear Daeron and Rhaena’s voices out in the parking lot, and the blasts of Rhaena’s Ruger, the revolver she once didn’t know how to use. Cregan is trying to help Rio up, but he can’t stand. He is slumped against bare shelves and holding a hand to his throat, where he’s hemorrhaging from a gaping, ragged wound, torn arteries and lacerated veins. He’s been bitten, but his transformation won’t take long. He’s bleeding out. His dark eyes are on you, and beneath the glassy sheen of catastrophic blood loss is disbelief and fury and grief. He will never see Sophie again; he will never meet his child.

Your voice is a whisper, a phantom. “Bryan…”

“It only takes once, right?” he says, weak and guttural, already fading, blood on his lips. Then his eyes drift to Aemond. “Get her out of here.”

“No!” you shriek as Aemond pulls you towards the door, his arms locked around your waist, his lips to your ear as he begs you to come with him, that you have to leave, that it’s not safe here, that Rio doesn’t want you to see what has to happen next. Aegon is sobbing as he touches Rio’s face. Cregan bows his head; but he’s already looking at the Marlin .22 that hangs by its leather strap from Aegon’s shoulder. “No, I promised, I promised! I promised I wouldn’t let him die alone!”

“He’s not alone,” Aemond tells you, and he doesn’t let go when you struggle, when you scream. Burning sunlight floods over you, and you are in the parking lot. Rhaena and Daeron are shooting down zombies as they lurch towards the grocery store, drawn by the commotion, the symphony of the dead and dying. Luke is using a siphoning hose to fill the Tahoe’s tank with the remaining fuel in the Ford Expedition. Helaena is moving their supplies into the Tahoe, weeping softly to herself, her long ghost-pale hair flowing in the desert wind.

The racks, you think, you remember. You can see Helaena shining the flashlight into your eyes like you’re back on a living room floor in Iowa. I forgot to remind Rio to check under the racks. And now he’s gone.

You’re screaming that it’s your fault as Aemond forces you into the Tahoe, and you don’t care what anyone says to you: Luke trying to tell you that’s not true, Rhaena swearing that you’re safe now. There is a gunshot from inside the grocery store. Your heart and lungs have turned to iron like the anchor of a ship, cold and still and heavy, unmovable, unbearable. You cannot breathe through your sobs; you cannot see, cannot speak. You curl up on a seat and wish you were dead. All your life you have been compelled by a blind belief that there are better places even if you cannot imagine them, that sometimes when it feels like the world is ending the only way out is through. For the very first time, you want to give up. You want to let all the poisons of this earth seep into your bloodstream until they stop your pulse and everything goes quiet, quiet, quiet.

Aemond is pouring bottles of water over you so he can wash away the blood and sand and gore. He is searching your skin for bitemarks. People are climbing into the Tahoe and a key turns in the ignition. The wheels are spinning; shadows fall over your face through the windows as you sail beneath overpasses. You hear voices but not words. You feel Aemond’s hands on you and do not flinch away.

Someone is putting pills in your mouth and telling you to swallow. “What is it?” you ask.

“Tramadol,” Aegon says. “It will take you somewhere else.”

And it does, this poison he doesn’t know you are starving for; it erases the future and the past until you don’t exist, you never have, and this is a relief.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glimpses through fogged vision, disjointed flashes like dreams: Aemond cleaning and suturing Cregan’s arm, Helaena’s fingers threading through Ice’s shaggy grey fur, smoke from smoldering Marlboro Golds billowing from Aegon’s lips and out through an open window, coyotes watching the Tahoe pass from the shoulder of the highway, mountains and barbed wire, clouds and useless power lines, land that turns from flat and vast and vacant to steep hills thick with pine trees, so many they block out the sun.

You are dimly aware that the Tahoe is stopping frequently, long lulls to hunt for gasoline in small towns, one gallon here, three gallons there, discussions over which routes to take as Aegon scrutinizes his map. Aemond is always with you, coaxing you to take sips of Gatorade and nibbles of Ritz crackers, feeding you spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup straight from the can, and each night when you fall into numb unconsciousness in a dead stranger’s bed he sleeps on the floor in case you need him, and eventually you do. You jolt awake from a nightmare, not death but cursed immortality, a bite he missed somehow that turned you into a monster, into a murderer, your raw skin and muscles sloughing off your bones.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, look at your hands,” Aemond says, taking your wrists and holding them gently. “No bites. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Hey, hey…” He cradles your face, he pleads for you to believe him. “I swear to God, you’re going to be okay.”

“It should have been me,” you whisper in the red glow of the candlelight. “I don’t have a family that would miss me if I was gone.”

“Yes you do,” Aemond says fiercely; and it takes your drugged, horrorstruck mind a moment to realize who he means.

The next day the Tahoe runs out of gas, and you know this because Aemond wakes you with a palm resting lightly on your forehead and an apology sighed through your hair. “What’s wrong?” you murmur.

“We have to get out and walk for a while. Can you do that?”

You force yourself to sit up, blinking at him. “Where are we?”

“Kingvale, California. In the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”

“We’re going to the beach house,” you realize.

“Yeah,” Aemond says, smiling a little. “Yeah, we are. We’re going home.”

On Donner Pass Road, following in the centuries-old footsteps of doomed westward migrants, someone always walks with you as you shuffle along in a daze. Aemond tells you about California, Rhaena reads aloud from Mockingjay, Ice licks your knuckles, Aegon talks endlessly about golf and yachting even when you can’t respond. His burned leg is still bandaged, but healing, and he’s found a Converse sneaker a few sizes too big to wear on his left foot; Aemond treats and wraps his wounds each morning and night, and Rhaena observes and takes notes so she can learn how to do it.

One afternoon just north of Beale Air Force Base, Daeron sneaks a Marlboro Gold out of Aegon’s backpack when no one is watching and lights it as he lingers in the back of the group. Aegon smells the smoke immediately and whirls, runs to him, snatches the cigarette from between Daeron’s lips and stomps it into the pavement.

“You’re not going to be like me!” Aegon shouts at him in the middle of the road. “Goddammit, you’re going to be safe, and you’re going to be happy, and you’re going to know that people care about you because I’ll break your fucking arm if I ever see you smoking again. You don’t get to poison yourself. You’re going to live to be a hundred years old. Got it?”

“Got it,” Daeron echoes, startled, petrified; and then Aegon hugs him, hanging on for a very long time.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is midnight in Meridian, a miniscule town founded in the 1850s on the banks of the Sacramento River, a relic from a time when travel meant ferries and railroads and wagon trains. Here, well outside the state capital, there are no sounds except the breeze through the trees—blue oaks, sycamores, willows, white alders—and the hoots of owls. The house is old, built in the 1950s or 60s, creaking steps and a screened-in front porch where Cregan and Daeron are playing Uno while keeping watch. The moon is new and invisible. The stars are bright.

Aemond appears in the doorway of your room. You are on the edge of the bed and staring at the wallpaper, flickering candlelight and scenes of galloping horses. Aemond is not letting you have any more Tramadol. He’s also not letting anyone load your Beretta, although you saw a box of 9mm bullets in Helaena’s burlap messenger bag. Maybe he’s worried you’ll try to shoot yourself. Maybe he’s not too far off.

He closes the door, crosses the room, and sits down on the bed beside you. In the firelit quiet, Aemond says: “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I can’t stay here. Take me somewhere else.”

At first, he doesn’t understand what you mean. Then you reach for him—for a life raft, for something to tether you to the earth—and the lines of your palm press against his scar, flesh he stitched back together himself, proof he can heal people, a reminder of how temporary any of you could be. Aemond lays his hand over yours and closes his eye, holding you there against his face, feeling your warmth and your forgiveness, your need to be close to him in a way that is suddenly so uncomplicated. There is no fear left in you. Perhaps there’s nothing left at all.

Aemond kisses you, and there are blooms of golden light through your darkness like what you call lightning bugs and he says are fireflies. You are entangled on the bed together, and all the sounds still ricocheting in your memory—screams, gunshots, bloodlust, hunger, anarchy—fade until they cease to exist. He is touching you, and you can feel lost pieces of yourself returning to you like rain soaking through parched earth, faith and resolve and desire. And now, and now…

Now Aemond is taking you far, far, far away, to bottomless blue water you can drown in, to where Diego Garcia lies marooned in the middle of the Indian Ocean, to the sun-glinting waves off the coasts of Chinhae, Corpus Christi, Key West, the Horn of Africa. He is between your thighs, and you want him through the pain, a razor-sharp fullness that seems so immaterial and so fleeting; and you lie to him over and over again because if he knows he’s hurting you he’ll stop, and in this world one cannot assume there will be second chances. Aemond stills once he’s inside you, giving you time to adjust but also overwhelmed by the intensity of it, his hands in your hair and trembling all over, kissing your face as the pain bleeds away and leaves a shade of craving you’ve never felt before, something deep and indistinct, something intangible like a spell or a myth. You move first, rolling your hips with a slow, cautious rhythm, and only then does Aemond follow you. It’s in his voice, in the reverence of his hands, in his iris like a clear secretless sky; you have taken him far away too.

“I love you,” Aemond says afterwards as his head rests on your belly, your fingers tangled in his damp hair and your skull hushed like calm seas. “And I can’t pretend I don’t anymore.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to.”

And in the morning, there is something different about the world: a hopefulness that makes you want to wake up, a radiance like moonlight on the wave crests of the Indian Ocean.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader

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gaysindistress · 8 months ago

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What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

#john price imagine #john price x reader #john price #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price smut #price x reader #cod price #price #price smut #captain price imagine #price imagine #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty imagine #call of duty #call of duty smut

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bbystark · 3 months ago

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chimichanga tuesday

deadpool x stark!reader

summary: reader finds herself slightly jealous over Vanessa and Wade's previous relationship. based on this request

a/n: mdni. requests are open! i did not proofread whoops but enjoy! requests are open btw ;)

When Wade first brought up the idea of bringing you to his Chimichanga Tuesdays at Blind Al’s, you were over the moon. This was a big step for you guys and the relationship you had yet to put a title on. He had excitedly started listing the names of everyone that would be there, Colossus, Negasonic “whateverthefuck”, Blind Al, Vanessa- a wave of nausea went through you when he said her name. You weren’t the jealous type, you really weren’t, but the dude put himself through death-defying torture to live for this woman. It was hard not to feel threatened. Besides, who the fuck stays friends with an ex? It blew your mind.

You knew about their entire history, Wade had told you a few months into hooking up. He didn’t seem to have any secrecy surrounding it, even going as far as to delve into their very active sex life (you had to tell him to shut up when he got to “a pegging christmas”). However, your own fear of his answers kept you from asking the most important one: did he still love her? Would he leave you if she decided she wanted him back? You felt so stupid. You were a Stark for God's sake, your ego should be untouchable. But alas, you actually strongly liked Wade. You were starting to head into that place where just thinking about him brought a stupid love-sick smile to your face.

So yeah. You were a little jealous of Vannessa, and tonight was Chimichanga Tuesday. You were fucked. Both metaphorically and literally, being on your third Dirty Shirley within the hour. You were waiting for Wade to pick you up from your apartment, growing more and more nervous as time went on. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the front door rattle, Wade bursting in with a stapler in hand. “Hey hot stuff! Sorry about the blood. Was running late to see your tight little ass and had to staple the toupee on the bus. Bumpy ride.” He makes his way over to you, tossing the stapler to the side and pulling you into a hug. “Hi Wade.” You melt into him. “When are you going to let me buy you lace glue for that thing?” You poke at a staple and he winces, grabbing your wrist gently.

“Hey, the staples are very economically friendly. Not everyone has a disgustingly handsome father to inherit billions from.” He smiles at you, glancing around your apartment and seeing the large bottle of vodka sitting in the middle of your kitchen island. “Woah thirsty girl! You getting the party started already?”

You suddenly feel ashamed, like a teen who got caught with a beer. “I’ve only had one.” He gives you a look. “Okay three!” He turns to the side and rolls his eyes to his imaginary audience. “We’re lucky she didn’t bring out the tequila. She gets real mean.” You shove him a little bit. “That was one time! It’s not that hard to say excuse me.” “Oh, I’m not mad sugarcakes. Watching you threaten to disembowel someone twice your size really got little Deadpool going. I am slightly concerned though. Broody and depressed alcoholics run in your family. What’s going on in that brain?”

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find a response. You consider lying, but suddenly you feel a little light and stupid thanks to your last drink and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Do you still love Vannessa?”

Wade freezes, a little shocked by the question. He’s silent for longer than he’s ever been and you’re scared you’ve gone too far. You’re about to apologize and take your words back when he puts his finger over your lips and says “Give me two seconds for a dramatic flashback and careful introspection that will eventually lead to important character development.” You give him a strange look and he sighs. “Trust me, it’s very important to our plot.”

Wade thinks really hard. He still loves Vannessa in his own fucked up way but he wasn’t in love with her anymore. He knew she still loved him too, but in the same way an owner can’t hate a pet that constantly bites them. Except Wade was a pet who got cancer and abandoned her, not to mention put her life on the line on multiple occasions (although to his credit, he did save her and the entire timeline). But to put it simply, somehow the two most fucked up people had the healthiest breakup ever.

Even given the chance, Wade knows he wouldn’t go back to Vannessa because it could never be the same. Wade used to painfully long for his past before seeing a motivational poster that said “keep chugging along” with a creepy looking animated train. Then it really clicked for him. Vannessa wasn’t his happy ending, even though she had given him many in the past. If he had chosen to stay with her instead of being a lab rat for Francis St. Fuck, she would have been. But is dying of cancer and leaving the woman you love alone for the rest of her life a happy ending? He realized that if he kept looking to the past, he would forget that he had created his own weird little family, even if it wasn’t what he originally planned. He would also forget that he has a smoking hot girl in front of him that he’s quickly growing more attached to.

Wade has been quiet and staring directly at a wall for a long time, and it’s starting to really freak you out. “Wade..?” You try gently. He snaps out of it, shaking his head and laughing a little. “Jeez these flashbacks just keep getting longer and longer, like hello that’s what sequels are for.” You stay silent, looking at him expectantly. “Oh right!” He moves closer to you, taking your hands in his.

“Yes. Yes I do still love Vannessa.” your heart drops, and you quickly pull your hands from his.

“What the fuck Wade?”

“No! Wait let me finish, I do still love her, but not like I did. She used to be my everything, the only reason I lived and then later, the reason I tried killing myself but that’s beside the point- what I’m trying to say is that she’s my past. And I get us still being friends is like, totally not the norm but I promise there’s nothing there anymore. I just, care about her I guess. But I don’t want to keep letting my past get in the way of things that are happening now.” He looks you in the eye for the last part, and you almost tear up at the sight of The Wade Wilson being serious for once, and to you of all people. You take a few seconds before replying.

“I know she’s a huge part of your very unconventional life, and I don’t want to get all psycho and say that I don’t want you to see her because really, I truly don’t mind. Just kind of had a jealous monster take over for a second. I’m sorry.” You give him a shy smile.

“Hey, I’m just surprised you still haven’t realized you’re fucking an avacado’s abortion. That’s a win in my book.” You both laugh and you take his face in your hands gently, smiling. You don’t really have much to say, you still feel silly, even more so that he’s essentially calmed all your insecurities. So you just stare at him, the drinks in your system letting your fingers dance across his face, just taking all of him in. Wade can’t handle it.

“I think I like you.” He blurts out. He cringes, he can’t believe he just confessed like a middle schooler. “Bad Deadpool.” he whispers to himself.

You laugh and then bring his face to yours for a clumsy kiss. “I think I like you too. Avocado abortion face and all.” You kiss him again, slower this time, trying to avoid the staples poking out of his scalp when you place your hand on his neck. He pulls away slowly, eyes still closed. “Good Deadpool.”

#deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson #x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #stark!reader #fluff #fanfiction #imagines #request

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harknessxo · 24 days ago

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Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You get to have your happy ending with Agatha in the end.

Warnings; smut, fingers, cunnilingus (A receiving), strap on use, mommy kink, praise/degradation kink.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 2

A/n: A lot of people wanted a part three and here it is. This is the final part!

Monica was outside like she said she would when they released you. The car ride was a bit awkward especially after your outburst. She would glance over at you every now and then, not sure what to say. She was worried about you and the fact that you seemed to have some sort of attachment to Agatha. She knew that you were a good person and that you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease.

“Y/n…can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you really love her?”

“I…” you paused and remembered what Agatha had told you, “No, no I don’t. I don’t know what was going through my head. I’m sorry for my outburst,” you lied, chuckling nervously. She let out a sigh of relief, her grip on the steering wheel loosening.

“Thank god. I was worried about you. You seemed so…possessed.”

“Hah…I guess I just needed some time to process everything….”

“I understand. It’s a lot to take in. But I need you to promise me something, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me that you will go see a therapist. I know a good one in town. She helped a friend of mine a while ago.” She could tell you were acting a bit. She just wanted what was best for you.

“I…I promise.”

“Good. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Here,” she took out a paper card from her purse, “This is her number.” You took the card from her and read out the name.

“Christina Raynor.” Monica nodded.

“Yeah, she’s a good therapist. I think you’ll like her. Just give her a call and set up an appointment, okay?”

“Will do.” Just as you finished your sentence, she pulled up in front of your house and put the car in park.

“Alright, we’re here. Do you need me to come inside with you?”

“No, it's fine. She’s in jail now.” You joked uncomfortably and she chuckled.

“You’re right. She’s locked up tight. I still can’t believe she got away with all those murders for so long…”

“Me neither,” you didn’t like the thought of talking bad about Agatha so you just hugged her to get it over with, “Thank you, Monica.” She hugged you back, squeezing you tightly.

“You’re welcome. Just take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

You bid her goodbye and went inside your house. It felt so empty, you wanted Agatha to be here with you. It was 6 pm by now and you were nowhere near tired. You decided to sit on your couch, exactly where Agatha had sat earlier that day, and watch some tv. It was hard to find anything to watch, almost every channel talking about the serial killer being put behind bars. It made your blood boil.

The news kept going on and on about Agatha and her crimes. Some of them were praising the police for finally catching her, others were speculating on how long she would get in prison. You tried to change the channel but it seemed like every channel was talking about her. It made you miss her even more. The way she touched you, the way she kissed you, the way she spoke to you. You missed everything about her.

Then you remembered the brooch. You took it out of your pocket and looked at it. Brushing your fingers over the symbol on it. You didn’t know what it meant but you knew it meant a lot to Agatha. You had no idea why it was so important to Agatha but just looking at it made you feel a strange connection to her. It almost felt like she was right next to you, watching over you with her cold, blue eyes.

The following days felt like torture. You had scheduled some appointments with the therapist Monica told you about like you promised. She seemed to see right through your act but you didn’t give in.

Every time you would go into her office, she could sense that you were lying to her. You would tell her how happy you were to be free from Agatha and how much you were enjoying your freedom but there was a part of you that missed her. Christina could see it in your eyes, even if you tried to hide it. It was like there was a void inside of you that only Agatha could fill.

“Alright, let’s try this once again, what happened the morning after Wanda’s murder?” Christian asked. She’s been asking the same questions every session trying to get something out of you.

“This again?” You sighed.

“Yes, again. You’ve been dodging the question every time I ask you about it.”

“I woke up, Monica called me to look at the news and I saw Agatha was the killer. I cried like everyone does then someone rang my doorbell. I went to look and simply found a flower on the floor and then Agatha kidnapped me. Happy?” She jotted something down on her notepad before looking up at you again.

“Who left the flower on your doorstep?”

“Agatha.” You answered flatly and she leaned back in her chair, eyeing you carefully.

“And why do you think she left a flower?”

“I don’t know…” you acted dumb. You knew why she left it. She left it as a way to apologize for killing Wanda. Christina sighed, clearly getting frustrated with you.

“Y/n, you can’t just act like you don’t know. I need you to be honest with me.”

“I am. I don’t know why she left it.” She closed her notepad, crossing her arms.

“You do realize that lying to your therapist isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

“Look, I’m only here because I made a promise to a friend. I am fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply.

“Being ‘fine’ and needing therapy are two completely different things. Clearly, you have something that you’re not telling me and I think it has something to do with the fact that you have developed Stockholm syndrome and you choose to ignore it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never love someone who killed my best friend,” you lied. Saying that sentence almost physically hurt you. Christina chuckled, shaking her head.

“That’s exactly the problem, sweetheart. You do love her. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you do.”

“Alright, are we done here?” You were starting to get agitated.

“Yes, we’re done for today. But I’m telling you, the sooner you accept your feelings for her, the easier it’ll be to deal with this whole situation.”

You simply gathered your things and left. The whole day your thoughts would go to Agatha. Was she actually coming for you? Did she actually love you? Was everyone else right? You shook your head, trying not to let those thoughts get to you. The drive home was miserable, you dreaded go back to an empty house. Everyday you hoped Agatha would be there when you got back but it’s been almost a week and no luck.

You arrived at your house and opened the door, being greeted by the same deafening silence that had plagued your home the past few days. It was late now, nearing 8pm, and you hadn’t eaten anything yet. You sighed as you closed the door behind you, dropping your bag and keys on the floor. You were hungry but you had no energy to cook.

“What’s got you so gloomy, sweet girl?” A voice suddenly said. Your head almost instantly turned towards the direction of the voice.

“Aggie?” She chuckled as she emerged from the shadows, stepping into the light. She was leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face, extending her arms outwards.

“Did you miss me?” You ran into her arms, clinging to her like she was your lifeline while tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you sobbed. She was quick to wrap her arms around you, pulling you against her body as you clung to her. She gently stroked your hair, running her fingers through it as she shushed you.

“Shh… it’s okay, baby girl. I’m here now.”

“How did you get out?” You asked, curiously. She smirked again, tilting your chin up so that you were looking at her.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that but we must hurry. They will be looking for me soon and they will most likely come here first.”

“Okay…oh!” you stopped abruptly, searching for something in your pocket, “I kept it safe like you asked,” you smiled, handing her the brooch. She smiled when you handed her the brooch, taking it from your hand and inspecting it carefully. A look of relief washed over her face as she saw that it was undamaged.

“Good girl…” she put the brooch on your shirt, “I want you to keep it. Now, be a good girl and get your things. We need to leave before they come.”

“Okay!” You were about to run upstairs but she grabbed your arm before you could go any further.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, mommy.” Agatha smiled, pulling you flush against her again. She put a finger under your chin, making you look up at her.

“You're so perfect for me, baby, I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.”

“Please kiss me!” You begged. She chuckled, amused by how needy you were already. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her hands grabbing your hips to pull you even closer to her. You pathetically melted into her. You would have fallen if it wasn’t for her hands on your hips holding you up. She felt you go weak in her arms and she broke the kiss for a moment, just to whisper against your lips.

“So sensitive, baby. You’re so desperate for me but let’s get your things,” she started leading you upstairs so you could pack essentials. After all your things were safely packed, she led you to a black SUV outside. You were confused on how she was able to get a hold of it but decided to not ask questions. She opened the passenger side door and gently pushed you into the seat before going around to the driver’s side. She started the car and pulled out of your street, starting the long drive to what was meant to be your new home.

“Where are we going, mommy?”

“A place I have set up just for us, sweetheart. Somewhere no one will find us.” She reached over and placed her hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as she drove. She was clearly enjoying the fact that you were already calling her mommy again.

“You promise? I don’t want to have to go through that again. Everyone kept telling me that you were using me and that you didn’t actually love me-”

“Don’t listen to those fools, baby. I love you more than you could ever know. They’re just jealous of the fact that you belong to me and no one else.” She scoffed at your words, her grip on your thigh tightening.

“Really?”

“Of course, baby girl. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and I’ll continue to love you for as long as I live. No one will ever take you away from me. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine?” She chuckled at your question, a small smirk on her face.

“All yours, sweetheart. You own me just as much as I own you.” You smiled sweetly at her, intertwining your hand with hers.

“My best girl,” she said, kissing the back of your hand before continuing to drive in comfortable silence. The drive was quite long but you didn’t care as long as you had Agatha. By the time you arrived at your new home in the middle of nowhere, the sun had begun to rise. The house was in the middle of the woods, far away from any signs of civilization. There was a lake not too far away from it and it was beautiful. Agatha parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door for you and holding out her hand for you to take.

“Aggie, this is beautiful,” you gushed, looking at the house and its surroundings. She chuckled as she took your hand and pulled you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against her side. She looked at the house and then back at you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I knew you’d like it, baby. I picked it just for you.”

“How were you even able to get it?” She smirked at your question, giving your hip a squeeze as she started walking towards the front door.

“You don’t want to know, sweetheart.” You just nodded in response and she handed you the keys so you would be the first to go in. She watched as you opened the door, her eyes glued to you the whole time. You were practically buzzing with excitement as she stepped inside after you, shutting the door behind her and pinning you against it.

“Mommy?” Your voice trembled with anticipation. Her eyes darkened as you called her that again. She pushed herself up against you, her body pressed against yours as she looked down at you.

“Do you want mommy's fingers?”

“Mhm!” You nodded your head desperately. She smirked again, loving how desperate you were already. She grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at her.

“Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“No. Only you can.”

“Fuck, angel. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl,” she claimed your lips, shoving her tongue in your mouth. You tried to keep up with her pace but it was difficult when she was so hungry for you. She was relentless, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands roamed your body. She pushed her knee between your legs, applying pressure against your core.

“Hmph!” She grinned against your lips, pulling away to nip at your jawline as she continued to apply pressure to your core with her knee. Her hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place against the door.

“Mommy, please!” You needed her and fast.

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” She teased, nipping at your neck before sucking on it, determined to leave marks all over your skin.

“I need you,” you whined, your hands gripping onto her shirt. She groaned at your whine, her resolve breaking as she picked you up and carried you further into the house. She was still marking up your neck as she made her way towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of marks behind as she went.

Once you were in the bedroom, she placed you on the bed and the both of you scattered to take your clothes off. She wasted no time in removing her clothes, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you did the same. She quickly climbed onto the bed and pinned you down, straddling your waist as she leaned down and continued marking up your skin, making sure to cover every inch of your body with hickeys.

“S-stop teasing,” you whined pathetically, trying to push her down to where you need her most.

“Nuh uh,” she pinned your hands above your head, “Do I have to tie you up again, hm? I bet you would like that.”

“But mommy-” you sobbed.

“No buts, baby girl. I’m in control here, remember? I’ll do whatever I want with you,” she said in a dominant tone, her grip on your wrists tightening as she nipped at your earlobe.

Tears of agony rolled down your cheeks as you tried to grind your hips against her for any sort of relief. Not having her for a week was absolute torture. She smiled at your tears, seeing you so desperate was a sight she would never get tired of. She chuckled as you tried to grind against her, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.

“Aw, is someone being a needy little girl? You really can’t wait for me to touch you, can you?”

“I need you so bad,” you sobbed again.

“I know, sweetheart. But I want to hear you beg for it. I want to hear you beg for mommy’s fingers,” she cooed in your ear, her voice low and sultry as she continued to hold your wrists and hips down with ease.

“Pretty please? I’ll be good, mommy!”

“God, baby, you sound so pretty when you beg,” she let go of your wrist and instead gripped to the back of your neck, pulling at your hair, “Say it again,” she demanded.

“Pretty please?” you said again, this time with an innocent tone knowing it would make her spiral. Agatha let out a low groan at your tone. She could feel her resolve crumbling once again as she looked down at you. You were too cute and too desperate and it was driving her insane.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” she slipped her fingers inside you without warning. She cursed under her breath as she felt how wet you were, her fingers easily sliding in. She started to move them slowly, curling them against your walls as she watched your expression intently. She watched as your brows frowned in pleasure, her hand still pulling at your hair.

“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. You’re already a moaning mess and I’ve barely even touched you,” she said in a mocking tone, her pace slowly picking up as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you. Your hands gripped onto her back, your nails digging into it, leaving moon crescent shapes behind.

She let out a moan of her own at the feeling of your nails digging into her back. It hurt a bit but she absolutely loved it. She continued to move her fingers faster, keeping her pace relentless as she started to suck on your neck again, leaving behind even more marks.

“Mommy! I want- I need m-more!”

“Aww, you need more? My baby’s greedy, isn’t she?” She teased as she added a third finger, curling them all and pushing them deep inside of you. You absolutely melted with the added pressure. It felt so fucking good. She could feel you getting tighter around her fingers and it was driving her crazy. She moved her lips up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as she whispered to you.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just take my fingers. They feel so good inside you, don’t they?”

“Yes! So good!”

“My little slut,” she kissed you as she picked up the pace even more, her fingers moving in and out of you at a brutal pace, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“C-cum?” You babbled out, your speech reduced to gibberish.

“You want to cum, baby?” She asked, a smirk on her face as she kept up her pace, her fingers moving in and out of you at a punishing pace, her thumb rubbing against your clit. You nodded your head, unable to make up words.

“Go on then, baby. Cum for me,” She cooed, her fingers curling inside of you once again as she continued to play with your clit, wanting to see you fall apart completely under her touch. Your nails only dig deeper into her back as you came, drawing blood.

Agatha let out a pornographic moan of her own as she felt you digging your nails further into her back. It was so deliciously painful she could feel her own arousal growing, feeling incredibly needy for you but wanting to focus on your pleasure first.

“That’s it, baby girl. Such a good girl,” She said as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, looking down at your trembling form with a smirk. She was about to get up to get her strap but you took a hold of her wrist.

“Mommy? Can I taste you, please?” She froze for a moment, not expecting that at all. She wasn’t used to her partners wanting to taste her. Usually she would just focus on them, getting off by giving them pleasure but with you…well, she couldn’t deny that she was very intrigued by the thought.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!” You eagerly responded. She looked down at you for a moment, her expression unreadable as she thought about it. She was tempted to say no just to tease you but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted to see how good you were with your tongue.

“Go ahead then, angel.” To her surprise you pulled her up, making her sit in your face and you immediately got to work, lapping over her wet folds, moaning her sweet taste. She gasped as she felt the vibrations of your moans against her core. She braced herself against the headboard as you continued to lap at her folds, a shiver running down her spine as she felt your tongue on her.

“F-fuck…” she cursed as you worked h your tongue. You didn’t move your eyes from her face. She looked so beautiful when she was in pleasure. She tried her best to keep her composure but the way you worked your tongue was making it difficult. It felt so good, better than she could have imagined and the way you were staring up at her was driving her crazy. Her thighs clenched around your head as she bit down on her lip to try and stifle a moan.

You wanted to hear her moan so you gently bit down on her clit. A gasp turned into a loud moan when you did, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. She grabbed onto your hair tightly, holding you against her as she threw her head back in pleasure. You sneakily slid two fingers inside of her, knowing that would send her over the edge.

Agatha let out a string of curses as you slid your fingers inside her, her back arching and her grip on your hair tightening even more. Her hips began to move in rhythm with your fingers, desperately seeking more of you. With one final suck on her clit, she let herself come undone on your face, her hips halting. Her entire body trembled as she came, a loud moan escaping her lips as she let go of your hair and slumped back against the headboard. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high.

“Did I do good, mommy?” You asked ever so innocently. She let out a breathless laugh, looking down at you with a look of awe on her face. You were absolutely adorable, covered in her slick and looking up at her with those big eyes.

“You did more than good, baby. You did amazing,” she said before pulling you into a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. She grabbed your chin, holding your face in place as she kissed you hungrily, claiming your mouth as hers.

You hadn’t realized how wet you had gotten from that until Agatha placed her knee in between your legs, putting little pressure on your pussy and you whimpered. She smirked as she heard the whimper escape your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you with a smug expression. She could feel the wetness on her knee and it made her desire for you grow even more.

“Aww, is someone needy?”

“N-no,” you tried to deny it, thinking it was embarrassing to get so needy merely by getting her off. She chuckled, not believing your denial for a second. She could see how desperate you were just by looking at you. Your flushed face, your ragged breathing, the way your hips moved ever so slightly against her knee.

“You’re a terrible liar, hon. Do you want mommy’s cock, hm?” Your eyes immediately lit up at the mention of her strap. Her smirk only grew wider as she noticed your eyes light up. You wanted it so bad. She knew exactly what you were thinking and it made her want to tease you more.

“You want mommy’s strap that badly, huh?”

“Mhm!”

“Are you going to beg for it?” She asked in a low tone, her knee still between your legs and putting a little more pressure against your aching core.

“Please mommy? I want your cock so bad!” She let out a satisfied hum at your begging, her smirk never leaving her face. She loved the way you called her ‘mommy’ and the fact that you were so desperate for her was driving her crazy.

“That’s a good girl, asking so nicely,” she said, getting up and walking into the walk in close and came back with the strap around her hips. You looked at it and realized it was quite bigger than the one she used before, making you clench your thighs together. She could see the look of nervousness on your face but she could also see the hint of excitement in your eyes. She climbed back onto the bed, crawling over you and hovering above you with a predatory look in her eyes.

“Nervous, darling?”

“Isn’t it a little too big?” You asked, anxiously. She smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, gently caressing your face with her thumb.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll make it fit.” She got in between your legs, ready to be buried inside you until you abruptly stopped her. She looked at you, concerned for a second until you took her hand and wrapped it around your neck with an innocent look on your face. She didn’t expect you to do that but the way you were looking at her was making her brain short circuit. You were going to be the death of her.

She could feel her arousal growing even more as she tightened her grip on your neck, just enough to cut off some of your air supply. You gasped but didn’t make any move to stop her. Her smirk returned as she felt your pulse. She loved seeing you like this, so vulnerable and submissive beneath her. Her eyes were dark with lust as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Such a good girl, letting mommy take control,” then she thrusted the strap inside you.

You braced yourself as you tried to take every inch of the strap. She was slow at first, taking her time to push the strap into you. She could see the way your body tensed up as you tried to take all of it, but the way you squeezed around the toy only served to make her want to tease you even more. Once she was fully inside, she leaned down to suck and nibble at your nipples, leaving behind marks on your chest.

Your moans were strained because of the hand wrapped firmly around your neck but she still thought they were the prettiest sound. Her focus then turned to your pussy, watching as her strap went in and out, your walls clenching around it. She continued to move her hips, slowly pulling the strap out before thrusting it back in. The sight of you beneath her, completely at her mercy and taking her strap so well was something she’d never get tired of.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Taking mommy’s cock like a champ. Isn’t that right, superstar?” she praised, pressing her hand against the belly bulge that formed.

“M-mommy-” you babbled incoherently. She chuckled at your babbling, finding it adorable how your mind was already starting to go blank. She leaned down and kissed you, biting your bottom lip before speaking in a low, sultry tone.

“You can’t even speak, can you sweet girl? Too lost in the pleasure that mommy is giving you?”

“Hmmm…” She chuckled again, amused by your inability to form words. She could tell you were starting to get overwhelmed by everything, your body shaking slightly as she continued to move her hips at a steady pace. Her hand around your neck tightened just a bit more, restricting your air supply even more.

“Such a cute little mess you are right now. Just for me.”

“Fas- faster please!” You begged, suddenly finding your voice again. Her smirk grew wider as she heard your pleas for her to go faster. She was loving the way you were begging for her, it made her want to tease you even more.

“Oh? You want me to go faster, darling?” She asked in a teasing tone, her hips slowing down just to mess with you even more.

“No, don't slow down!” you quickly sobered up from being cockdrunk. She chuckled at your quick change of tone, her hips picking up speed once again. She was enjoying the way you were getting frustrated at her teasing, and the way your body jolted with each thrust was addicting to her.

“Don’t be so impatient, angel. Be a good girl and wait for mommy to give you what you want,” she said before letting go of your neck. She put your legs completely against your chest and started drilling into you. The new position allowed her to hit that spongy spot that made you completely spiral with pleasure.

She already knew your body like the back of her hand and knew exactly where to aim to make you fall apart even more. Her grip on your thighs tightened as she continued to thrust into you with vigor, moving her hand to rub your clit, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Yes! Yes!” You sobbed, feeling yourself getting close to your climax. She loved the way you sobbed, the sound music to her ears. She could tell you were getting close and it only made her want to push you over the edge even faster.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Are you gonna cum all over mommy’s cock?”

“Please?” She chuckled at your needy response, loving the way you begged her to let you cum.

“Such an obedient little girl asking for permission. Go ahead baby, make a mess for mommy.” You finally came undone, gripping onto the bed sheets, moaning Agatha’s name loudly. She continued to thrust into you through your orgasm, prolonging it as much as possible. She loved the way you gripped the sheets and the way your body shook with pleasure. She watched you intently, committing every single expression and sound to memory.

“That’s my good little cock slut,” she slowed her thrusts down, trying to pull out until you pulled her closer.

“Can you…can you keep it inside for a bit?” You asked timidly, your cheeks turning a rosy color. She smirked as she heard your request. You were always so shy about asking for things, even after she’d seen you in some of the most compromising positions.

“Of course, angel,” she said sweetly, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the forehead before fully burying the strap inside you, letting out a low groan at the sight of your stomach bulging even more from the added pressure. You clung to her, loving the feeling of being full of her. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close against her. She loved the way you clung to her like a lifeline, and the feeling of your body against hers was intoxicating. She ran her fingers through your hair, soothingly stroking your head as she peppered kisses all over your face.

“You’re so perfect, you know that? My perfect little toy, and I promise no one will take you away from me again.”

Taglist;) @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @daenerys713

#fanfic #smut #agatha harkness #x reader #fluff #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #serial killer #dark!agatha

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