#this is just off the top of my head so if anyone has idea I’d like to hear them! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sordidmusings · 3 months ago

Text

Well Earned Praise - Mihawk x Reader

Art by mugibara

Summary: Mihawk is a man of few words and many gestures. Lucky for him, you understand them all quite well. Lucky for you, he knows when to use those spare few words.

A/N: This is a little celebratory piece for @feral-artistry ! She's made a huge landmark in higher education recently that she's worked her ass off for and deserves all the treats and hype!! I was lucky in getting this one out for it too bless up lol I usually can only get possessed by ideas to flesh them out but being able to get them into actual words in a timely manner??? Near unheard of lol That said, it's only a ficlet but I hope you and anyone reading enjoys!!

It’s heaps of domesticity and Mihawk being what could even be called playful lol there has to be at least a tiny bit of that in there for him to have suffered Shanks for so many years so well 💀 in canon its hidden in stuff like him calling Zoro a rabbit - like you can’t tell me he doesn’t also say that shit to amuse himself on top of belittling opponents

Word Count: ~2.1 k

Warnings: gn!reader, straight up fluff, banter, Mihawk being the Most Obvious in his own way, favoritism, Perona and Zoro are there too, you have a place in all their hearts, found family undertone, family dinner with the edgelords, Mihawk being supportive of your accomplishments in a hopefully in character manner lol

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“And what has you so happy?” Mihawk drawls.

You’ve barely set foot in the kitchen by the time the question leaves him. Your bright mood from your recent accomplishment is undoubtedly buzzing from you and likely tripped off his haki. Or at least you’d write it off as that if you hadn’t been speaking about it coming up the past few weeks.

Despite his prodding tone, you know that’s just his normal voice and not his grumpy one from all your time living at Kuraigana. There’s also a lack of the miniscule brow or eye twitch that usually precedes The Grumpy Voice. Instead his face is its usual stony facade, looking much too brooding in contrast to the apron Perona had complained him into. It lacks any of the color or frills she wished, but you are sure with enough prodding she will one day get one or the other on your dour host. The one thing that truly binds you all together at Kuraigana is an innate persistence (easily gaining the name “stubbornness” when not in your favor). It is a formidable weapon you wield both for and against each other. Usually against, but that ratio is growing more favorable by the day. Luckily its bad run is mostly in bickering and banter, not actual harm.

“I know you’re getting old, but I didn’t know your memory was already going,” you goad, walking to join him at the prep table at the far end of the kitchen.

“I don’t make the effort to remember the chirping of birds,” he responds blandly, disproving his statement by alluding to the fact that he listened to your frequent gushing about it to Perona. All the while, he continues chopping vegetables with insane speed and accuracy. It will always amuse you to see the world’s greatest swordsman use those skills to harvest and chop veggies. His choice on which you’re starting to recognize as the mix to make your favorite meal.

“Uhuh,” you reply, obviously incredulous. “I suppose you don’t have much room in that head of yours for anything besides swords play.”

“It’s dangerous to insult the one handling your food you know,” he warns with the barest hint of humor warming his low voice.

“This cook wouldn’t stoop to poisons,” you assure him, “though I will need to watch my back during sparring.”

“If you’ve actually taken to my lessons, you’d know to do that anyway,” Mihawk chastises with narrowed eyes. You chuckle at his predictability - always so prickly if he felt you weren’t taking your crafts seriously.

“We both know I’d be dead if I didn’t,” you point out. The silence, save for the steady thumping of knife on cutting board, is his begrudging agreement.

That silence quickly turns comfortable, its ease built on a few hundred hours of peaceful companionable silence that you’ve shared. Mostly they were filled with quiet sips of wine, rustling pages, crackling logs, and calm music. Your favorite is when the sweet serenade of the night’s bugs leaks in the cracked windows, heralded by a cool breeze playing with the curtains. A few hundred more hours spent in travel and training built quite the familiarity and warmed your heart from simple attraction to true affection for this untouchable man.

That affection only makes you treasure these moments more. Seeing him in an apron performing a homemaker’s duties isn’t only amusing; there’s a twinge of vulnerability to it. This man, who is an embodiment of death collecting its due for most, is comfortable with you seeing such human pieces of himself. He’s connected with you and your housemates enough to let you each have your mark on him in subtle ways. There is proof enough of it in this kitchen - now always well stocked with sake and sweets, the allowance of a few cutesy mugs ready for use, fresh eggs from the chickens he’d gotten for convenience and definitely not because of your love of animals. (You hadn’t broken him on goats yet but you were far from giving up on that one).

Your thoughts are interrupted by him breaking the hypnotizing motion of his knife to back away from the counter.

“I need to stop in the garden,” Mihawk explains. He casts a pointed gaze at you on his exit. “Don’t go in the fridge.”

The moment he’s taken his exit, you disobey the order. More like a poorly veiled hint. The bright lights of the fridge spotlight quite the treat for you. There’s a menagerie of desserts taking up the top shelf, everything from macaroons to tiramisu to cheesecake to fruit tarts. The colorful display almost kept you from noticing the restock of your drawers of charcuterie below. He really spared no expense; rare cured meats and exotic cheeses were huddled around a large supply of all your favorites, a variety of mustards, jams, and preserves in cute little jars tucked neatly to one side. You can’t help how gooey the gesture makes your heart and how that feeling’s definitely still going to be all over your face when he gets back.

Accepting that fate, you don’t even try to hide it when he comes back through the door with fresh herbs in hand. Mihawk goes through the motions of wiping off his boots and making his way back, all nonchalant confidence, until he looks at you and is struck frozen. He stands and holds your loving gaze for a long stretch of breaths. He’s the first to break your eye contact, looking the closest to unsure that you’ve ever seen him. His face would never tell, but his shoulders curl just a bit up and forward before you see him shove them back into their usual sure posture.

You think he’s going to leave the whole thing unacknowledged, as he’s wont to do with your increasingly common Moments. He shatters that thought when he lays a hand on your arm as he passes, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth from his large palm leaves a lasting impression on you. The ravenously yearning part of you - the one you try to keep settled - begins telling you how deliciously warm he must run, how he must be the perfect spot for a nap, how those warm hands would feel easing your muscles, how they would feel-

“Managing to get lost while standing still? Should I worry about that with you too?” Mihawk teases. It’s quite impressive how droll he can be when he lets himself.

“If I say yes, does that mean I’m free of being his human compass?” you joke.

“Only until it’s time to be rid of you both,” he answers easily.

“What?” you ask in mock offense. “No send off party? No tearful goodbyes? And here I thought you were the sentimental type.”

“Obviously,” he agrees, gifting you the first tiny, crooked smile of the night.

Wanting to end on a high note, you let the conversation go and instead focus on trying to find ways to help. It goes poorly. Every task you make for is suddenly already being done by Mihawk, or he’s suddenly blocking you from the means to start. Many an ingredient is intercepted, dish grabbed first, or scraps thrown to trash and compost. The absurd game of keep away it makes is funny to you at first but soon becomes frustrating.

“You’re treating me like an invalid,” you huff.

“I didn’t know you were so fond of labor,” Mihawk drawls. Sly eyes slide your way. “Should I put you back on prepping the new beds?”

“No,” you answer quickly. The new garden spot was chosen for convenient location not ease of creation; the ground was mostly clay and full of rocks with the top carpeted thick with sod and weeds. It would have to be cleared off, rocks dug out, manure and sand and peat moss shoveled in, then all mixed thoroughly to break up the clay. It was grueling work. It was Zoro work.

Mihawk goes back to his cooking with an air of satisfaction. You settle for watching and stealing bites to eat from the food he’s making. He pretends to be annoyed. It lets you both play a new game of keep away where you try to sneak and snatch and he tries to swat you away, usually without even taking his eyes off his task. This continues until the meal is nearly done, when he sends you off to your room to “look proper for a nice meal”. You pretend to be offended but he doesn’t buy it.

You don’t want to spend long getting ready, much more set on spending time with the others, but you also didn’t want to let an excuse to dress up go to waste. By the time you’re headed to the usual dining room, you’re layered in expensive fabric with a fresh face and freshly styled hair.

Mihawk is awaiting you at the grand doors, unfortunately lacking that apron. Instead you get him in a flowing shirt, textured in subtle filigree the same deep red as the whole. It is, of course, open to show off his Kogatana and the sun-kissed skin it rests on. As you get closer, you notice his pants are tailored slacks and his boots have been replaced with dress shoes you wouldn’t have even guessed he owned. Not for a lack of class or style, but for a lack of people and occasions he’d deem worthy of the effort.

You feel almost silly thinking he’s going through all this effort for you but there’s no other explanation. When you stop next to him, you could swear that even his beard is freshly oiled and combed. You’re too lost in your appraisal of him to notice how his own heated eyes are roving over you. You catch them for a brief moment before they fix to your face. To interrupt the loving taunt about to move your tongue, Mihawk holds the door open for you and gestures you inside.

Zoro and Perona are sat at the table behind pristine place settings. They haven’t even noticed the sound of your entrance over their own bickering. Perona always looks dolled up, but there’s something a little extra in the detail of her makeup and not a single hair on her head is out of place. What’s much more surprising than her is that Zoro looks all cleaned up. He’s still in his usual style but not a speck of dirt is on the clothes and his hair looks slightly damp from a recent shower. It’s hard not to laugh at the idea of Mihawk commanding him to bathe like one would a defiant child and Perona having to throw him in the bath like he’s a hissing cat.

Before you move to join them, Mihawk’s hands catch your shoulders. Their capability for gentleness will always amaze you, and this caress to halt you is no exception. His thumbs swipe across your skin a few times, seeming to relish the motion, before he leans forward. There’s a moment where his cheek brushes the crown of your head before his breath floats over your ear and neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. His lips, surprisingly soft, tickle the tip of your ear as he whispers to you. The words strike you and leave you frozen even as he brushes past you towards the table, leaving the scent of spiced cologne in his wake.

Your housemates finally notice you and both send toothy smiles and celebratory cheers your way. You feel almost bad that you have to shake yourself off to match their energy. Once you get close to the table, Zoro is trying to convince you to share his best sake with him while Perona tells you that’s dumb and you should instead focus on looking through the gifts she’s gotten you. You only laugh as dark fabric and frilly stuffies are shoved your way to intercept the persistent attempts to place an o-choko by your plate.

Mihawk sighs at the commotion, muttering something about wanting a peaceful dinner for you as he pulls out your chair. His grumbling is undercut by the softness easing the lines from his face. When you meet his eyes as he pushes your chair in, you notice the usually violent amber of them has darkened to flowing honey. His words ring in your head loudly again, causing a loving smile to warm your face. He answers with a brief smile of his own, the smallest curl of his lips and crinkle of his eyes, but it's enough to set your heart racing. It pumps electricity through you, tingling your fingertips and sending his words to spin even faster in your head. Even when your heart calms and is instead made full from loving company, you hold the sound of his voice in your mind.

It’s the first time you’ve heard the words from him, and now that you know their sweetness, you’ll chase that high in all your endeavors.

“I’m proud of you.”

#mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece #also wrote this instead of kinktober hsjdfkjsdkfdjsk #dedication?? who is she #one piece fluff #gn reader #reader insert #one piece x reader #mihawk x you #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk fanfiction #my writing

352 notes · View notes

reidmotif · 1 year ago

Text

And For My Next Trick...

Summary: Reader is invited to a Halloween party where she doesn't know anyone. Everyone seems absolutely insistent she has to meet a mystery man who'd love her costume ALTERNATIVELY: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, light mentions of drinking, oral sex (f recieveing), handcuffs during sex, one shitty “now you see me” magic sex reference (sorry), heavy making out, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Why did I agree to this? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party when they work for the damn FBI?

The answer was of course, summed up with a simple “Penelope Garcia”, a force of nature when it came to swaying people into novel life experiences, as she’d done with me in this moment.

When I offhandedly recalled that I hadn’t been to a Halloween party since college, Penelope grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me a little, eyes wide like saucers, like she couldn’t believe what I’d said.

“What?! What have you done since then to celebrate, then?” She asks, watching me intently.

“Nothing.” I respond, plainly, watching as her face morphed into one of further disbelief than before.

“What can I say?” I say, giving a laugh at her over-exaggerated antics at my admission, shrugging in the face of it. “I just don’t vibe with it.”

“What’s there not to ‘vibe’ with?!” She says, still holding onto my shoulders, absolutely unable to accept that I may have grown out of Halloween as the appeal of the holiday slowly dwindled with age.

“Everything.” I respond, still laughing. “I don’t like over-drinking, I don’t like sexy costumes, I don’t like being scared. Halloween’s less fun when you’re older.” I listed and reasoned off the top of my head, as Penelope stood there shaking her head, not accepting my answers in the slightest.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to let the spirit of Halloween die inside of you so young.” She responds, incredibly serious and unmoving. “You can have fun without all that! Come on! I can prove it to you.” She adds, definitively.

I raise an eyebrow, watching her with an amused expression. “Can you now? And how’s that?”

“Spend Halloween with me!” She retorts, instantly. She smiles big, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she grew more and more excited at the idea.

“Aren’t you spending Halloween with your work friends?” I ask, knitting my brows. “Your FBI work friends?” I say, in that tone, letting her know that there was definitely a part of me opposed to spending any day of mine with people I didn’t know whatsoever.

“Oh come on! Don’t give me that!” Penelope says, nearly pouting in front of me. “It’ll be fun! They’re my friends and they’re sweet and I think they’d love to meet you! You’ll have fun. Trust me.” She says, looking deep into my eyes as she willed me silently to say ‘yes’ with her expression alone. I stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over before she breaks my thoughts with a, “Please?” and in a quick moment, she’s overcome all my defenses and I nod, weak to her pleas.

“Okay! Okay! Fine!” I say, smiling a bit. “I’ll go. But I swear, if all I get out of the night is shit-faced drunk with a hangover the next morning, I’m never trusting you with my plans ever again.” I warn, raising an eyebrow and she just shakes it off, smiling wide.

“Deal. You’ll have fun, I promise.” She reiterates, and I nod, not realizing what I’d gotten myself into at that point.

So that night, when Penelope pulled up in front of a bar after picking me up from my apartment, I gave her a quizzical look, tilting my head in confusion.

“I thought this was a work party. You guys have work parties at bars?” I ask, knitting my brows.

Penelope giggled as she put the car in park, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea.” I stare at her, patiently waiting for her to elaborate, and she does, continuing in her excited fashion without requiring any prompting from my end. “We rarely have time for any ‘parties’ of the sort, given the whole insane schedule thing, so when we get a chance to host a shindig like this, we go all out.” She says, grinning wildly. “Especially when it's Halloween.”

I got out of the car, trying to discern what she meant, but gave up, deciding to just nod and go along with it, knowing more questions would just confuse the hell out of me anyway.

“Did I mention I absolutely love your costume?” Penelope compliments, I smile, waving her off.

“I literally dug it up from my senior year of college. I’m just glad it fits.”

The number I was wearing, in question, was a sparkly red leotard, with black stockings. A bit of height was added to my figure through the kitten heels on my feet, and adorning my neck was a traditional bowtie, alongside a little top hat with red detailing around the head. On my waist hung a stuffed bunny, adding a bit more intention to the outfit.

A magician’s assistant, in all its glory. It was a bit showy, but I figured most people would dress up regardless, and I wasn’t about to pay money for another costume for a holiday I rarely paid any mind to in the first place.

“Whatever it is, it’s working for you.” Penelope says with a wink, leading me into the bar.

The bar felt absolutely alive, buzzing with energy as multiple people walked around in costume, fog machines set up on multiple fronts to add a bit of a ghastly ambience to the scene, Halloween music playing in the background as people chatted each other up. The lights were dimmed, and I followed Penelope deeper into the party.

She turned around, handing me a cup with an unidentified liquid, and urged me to drink with her.

“It’s just punch! I swear!” She says to me, over the music, and I down the beverage quickly, glad she was obeying my request of not leaving the party absolutely wasted. It left the distinct flavor of artificially flavored cherry in my mouth, and I looked at her, wondering where she’d take us next, but before I could say anything, a blonde woman dressed as a black cat approached the two of us and Penelope immediately wrapped her arms around her, smiling.

“(Y/N)!” Penelope says, “This is JJ, JJ, my plus-one for the night, (Y/N)!” She exclaims, excited to introduce the two of us.

I shake JJ’s hand, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you- I love your costume, black cats are my favorite.” I say, and she grins gratefully.

“Last minute costume. Can you tell?” JJ responds, and I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I respond warmly, already feeling a sense of kinship with the woman, her smile and lighthearted nature easing me into the interaction.

“Your costume.. magician?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she gives me a look-over.

“Magician’s assistant, actually, but yes.” I say, laughing a bit. “I suppose in a certain light I may just look like a sexy magician, in hindsight.” JJ laughs at the joke, making me laugh a bit more as well.

“God, people here are going to think you and Spencer came here together.” JJ says, smirking, pouring herself a glass of punch.

“Spencer?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I won’t spoil his costume, but trust me. You have to find him at some point in the night. He’d love your costume.” She says the words with a playful lilt, my curiosity piquing at the idea of this mystery man who’d apparently be enamored by my choice of clothing tonight specifically.

“I have to find my husband.” She quickly adds, “But it was nice meeting you! Have fun!” She says, sauntering away, and leaving me and Penelope alone.

“Okay- so I was thinking we could look at the games they have here and then-” Penelope says, but I stop her.

“Who’s Spencer?” I ask, my interest in the subject not being fully satiated here.

“I work with him!” Penelope responds, and I laugh at her uncharacteristic briefness.

“Penelope, you work with everyone here.” I say, and she laughs.

“Okay, okay, but- seriously! I don’t want to spoil the surprise. It’ll be much better if the two of you run into each other.” She says, and my fascination only increases. “So.” She says, trying to segue into another topic, but I shake my head.

“Pen- if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna try and explore on my own, yeah?” I say, trying to seem as polite about it as possible, but she understood immediately.

“Don’t worry. I understand completely.” She says, with a wink. “You’ll know him when you see him.” She says, before walking away, and I was left alone, beginning to traverse through the party.

I met a number of characters that night, engaging in pleasant conversation and accepting some alcohol in small quantities, keeping myself in the right headspace so that I could continue my search for the man that’d been brought up to me before. When I’d bring his name up in conversation, as to get a hint to where the man would be, I’d always get the same reaction. A flash of recognition, and a smile. A “Do you two know each other?” and when I’d shake my head, they’d follow it with a, “He’d love your costume.”

For God’s sake! I knew he’d love my costume! Every living soul at this party had told me so! I’d love to just see the guy at this point!

I was just about to give up my search for the man, when I finally spotted a small crowd in the corner of the party that was a bit quieter than normal. I made my way into the group of people, coming to the front to be met with the sight of a man in a costume.

A magician’s costume.

“For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.” He says, looking around the crowd, and the moment his eyes land on me, I raise my hand above my head, and he nods, gesturing me over.

He speaks quietly, grinning a bit at me. It’s boyish and sweet as he looks me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Magician’s assistant?” He asks, with a little bit of laughter in his voice, and I nod, and he responds by nodding back. “I love it.”

“I know.” I say, laughing. He looks a bit confused, until I say, “Trust me. Practically everyone at this party has been telling me to find you-"

I suddenly realize there's a good chance this may not even be the aforementioned 'Spencer'. "Oh, God, I hope you are him, otherwise this’ll be really awkward.” I say quickly, realizing I hadn’t even described my plight in the first place to the stranger in front of me, before he quickly alleviated my nerves.

“Spencer Reid.” He says, grinning.

“Thank god. You are the right person.” I say, with relief. “(Y/N).”

“Alright, (Y/N).” He says, smirking. “Ready to help me with this trick?” He says, putting on a bit of a performance for the people gathered around us, and I nodded.

“Pick a card, any card.” He says, fanning a deck of cards in my direction, all face-down. “Show it to the audience, but don’t tell me the card!” He says, dramatically, turning away entirely and covering his eyes with his free hand, and I found myself giggling at the silliness of it all. I quickly picked a card from the middle of the deck, the two of hearts, ironically, and showed it to the audience, who all nodded in recognition.

“Have you picked your card?” Spencer asks me, still turned away and I reply.

“Yes, I have.”

“And have you shown the audience?” Spencer continues, in the same, climactic tone from before.

“I have.” I say, with a smile.

“Alright. Put her back into the deck, and tell me when you have.” He replies, still totally turned away, his eyes shut.

I place the card back in the deck, nestling it between the cards and he grins as he feels the disturbance to the deck. “The card is in the deck.” I confirm, and he turns back, beginning to shuffle the cards with fast, adept fingers. I watch his hands carefully, before he draws my attention back to his face by speaking to me.

“So, (Y/N), what brings you to this party in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the building.” He asks, casually, his hands still moving quickly.

“Oh- what?” I found it impossible to focus on both his hands, and the conversation, so I turned my attention towards the latter. “Penelope.” I respond, after processing the question. “She’s my friend, she told me to come. I don’t know anyone here besides her.” I add, answering his question.

“Ah.” He responds, cooly, keeping direct eye contact on me the entire time, and I was unable to tear myself away from his gaze. “Do you make it a habit to come to parties where everyone’s a stranger to you?”

I laugh a bit. “Absolutely not. I mean, everyone’s been nice so far, I’d say, so it’s not half-bad.” I continue, relaxing into the banter with him. His aura was magnetizing. Maybe it was the magician persona he was putting on, maybe it was the fact that he was dead handsome, but I found him increasingly attractive with every passing second.

He grinned, and I noticed that as our conversation dwindled, his hands began to slow. “Alright. Now, if my magician senses prove me right, is..” He takes a long second, making a show out of pulling a card out of the deck, “this your card!” He finishes, showing a.. six of spades.

I laugh a bit nervously, “Uh, no?” I felt a blush rising to my face as he seemed to grumble, looking more thoroughly through the deck.

“This?” He asks, holding up a three of diamonds.

“Nope.”

He holds up a queen. “This one?”

“Still no.”

“God, I swear..” He finally shows me the entire deck, watching me intently. “Do you see your card anywhere here?” He asks.

I scan the deck, expecting to see the two of hearts but didn’t, and I furrowed my brows.

“Is it not there?” Spencer asks, a specific lilt in his voice, as he grins playfully at me, and I look at him, still confused.

“No, but I swear- I did put it back.” I say, looking through the cards in front of me one last time.

“That’s strange.” Spencer responds, beginning to think. “Do you mind if I just..” He suddenly took a step closer, invading my personal space in such a swift manner, I barely had time to process what was going on.

I could feel his breath hitting me from above, as I turned my gaze up at the man in front of me. I could see him clearer, this way. The way his brown eyes watched me as well, the pink of his lips, the way his soft hair fell across his forehead. He reached forward, causing my breath to hitch before he slowly found my hat, lifting it from my head.

“(Y/N), do you mind checking your hat for a moment?” He says, giving me the article of clothing.

“Oh, I-” I stutter a bit, before taking the hat from his hands slowly and looking inside, seeing-

No fucking way.

I pulled out the two of hearts, which had somehow found its way into my hat.

“How- You-” I say, before he stops me.

“Show the card to the audience.” He says, grinning, and I do.

“That’s your card, isn’t it?” He muses, and I nod, absolutely dumbstruck.

He gives a little smirk. “Take a bow. For being such a good assistant, you know.” He says, and I bow my head a little, still trying to wrap my head around how he managed to do the trick in the first place.

The little group around us gave small claps and dispersed once the trick was over, leaving me and Spencer alone.

“So..” I start, but he laughs and interrupts.

“Before you ask me, no. I will not tell you how I did that.” He says, almost reading my mind.

“Come on!” I say, grinning. “You have to. That’s- that’s impossible.” I stammer.

“I just did it, didn’t I?” He says, with a bit of cockiness in his voice, which made him even more attractive than before.

“Okay but- No way!” I say, trying to think. “You must’ve planted it there. Or-”

“I planted the card in a hat that had been on your head the whole time?” He responds, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“But-”

“No ‘buts’.” He says, smiling. “It’s just magic. And a magician never reveals his-”

“I swear, if you finish that cliched sentence..” I warn.

He raises his hands up in surrender, that boyish grin still gracing his face. “Okay! Okay! It’s true though.” He adds, and I find myself rolling my eyes.

He notices my displeasure, and laughs a bit. “Okay, tell you what. What if I taught you how to do the trick? That way I’m technically not flat-out telling you how to do the trick.” He says, and I nod, excited.

“Wait- yeah. I would do that, in a heartbeat.” I respond, and he looks animated at the prospect.

“It’s a bit loud here.” He says, raising his voice a little over the music in the bar. “I know we just met but- uh. Would you wanna come to my apartment?” He asks, a bit hesitant. “In the name of magic.”

I watched his expression carefully, and saw the implicit desire painted in his eyes.

Wow. This costume must’ve worked a lot better than I expected.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” I respond, sweetly. “Lead the way, magic man.” I say, a bit teasingly. There was something exhilarating about knowing that there was a good possibility he wanted me, the same way I found myself wanting him.

He smiles, offering his arm to me as we walk out of the bar together. He leads me to his car, opening the door of the passenger seat to me like a true gentleman, and I smile, getting in. He starts the vehicle, beginning to drive away from the bar.

“Have you always done magic?” I ask, attempting to start a conversation with the man next to me, who was still a near stranger at this point.

He laughs a bit. “Yeah, actually. Before I ever started working for the FBI, I learned as a kid.”

“What do you like about magic?” I ask, a little lamely, still trying to continue the flow of discussion between us, making an effort to know him better.

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have too many friends growing up, so when I did.. I liked to entertain them.” He lets out a dry chuckle, a bit self conscious. I listened intently, finding myself more intrigued by him as he opened himself up to me. “It sounds silly, but I’ve always just enjoyed the feeling of making someone feel.. wonder.. amazement..?” He adds, hesitantly. “It’s just nice.” He finishes.

“That was probably way too personal for a question about magic, huh?” He says, after a moment.

I shake my head. “No! No. That’s a great reason. Probably better than anything I could ever come up with for any of my own hobbies.” I say, trying to make him feel at ease, the way he had for me before.

He smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”

“So about that trick..” I start, grinning.

“I’m not telling you how I did it!” He says, laughing. “You gotta work for it.”

“Oh, come on.” I exclaim, before pausing.

“Okay, tell me this. How many ways can you do that trick? Is it only with specific cards?”

“Nope.” He responds. “I can do that trick 52 ways. It’s all in the hands” He says, a little bit of pride in his voice.

“52 ways, huh?” I say, grinning. “My god, Spencer Reid. You must be really good with your hands then.” I say, trying to flirt just a bit.

“Oh, you have no idea.” He responds, and for a second, I hear a hint of lust in his voice, and I realize I wasn't insane for thinking he wanted me back. I could feel his tone causing my cheeks to heat up, and my panties getting wetter in an instant.

“Oh?” I respond, my voice suddenly hoarse.

“Yeah.” He responds, voice a bit deeper than before.

“I’m sure you could show me once you get to your apartment.” I say boldly, testing the waters and I see him lick his lips, nodding.

“I’d like that.” He responds, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, driving a bit faster than before.

As soon as we made it past his front door, Spencer was pushing me against the wall, planting his lips on mine in a frenzy, as my hands went to take off his coat, both of our intentions clear at this moment.

His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me closer against him to the point where I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. The sensation caused me to moan, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth, exploring as we continued to seek pleasure from the other, not paying mind to the consequences of our spontaneity.

His hands began to move to the zipper of my leotard, slowly pulling it down as my hands went to his belt, undoing it as quickly as I could. I felt something in the pockets of his slacks, and pulled it out to reveal a pair of handcuffs.

“Not my government issued ones. They're apart of the costume gear” He says, immediately, beginning to kiss at my neck. “We could use them, if you want.” He murmurs, his hot breath right at the hollow of my collarbone.

I breathed in sharply, nodding. “Oh, god. Yes.” I could feel him pulling me by my hips, his lips never leaving the expanse of my skin as he pushed me onto his bed, caging me in between his arms as he continued with his ministrations.

I could hear the soft moans of pleasure drawing out from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut. For an instant, I couldn’t feel his presence on me, until my hands were being raised above my head, and the small “snap” of handcuffs could be heard against me. I watched him, his gaze determined and lustful, checking the handcuffs to make sure they weren’t too tight, but that I couldn’t escape.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, beginning to kiss my fingertips, and making his way down my arm. He finally manages to pull off my leotard, and in a moment of what I could only describe as carnal desire, he rips open my stockings, discarding them on the floor as he made his way to the growing wet spot on my panties.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He growls, his breath hitting my wet heat, and I moaned at the sensation alone. He slid my panties down, leaving me entirely bare while he stayed mostly clothed, only adding to the appeal of our encounter.

He settled in between my legs, and I watched him, my breath coming out in short, small gasps.

“I need to taste you.” He murmurs, and I nod.

That’s all it takes, and he’s nearly devouring at my cunt. I can feel his tongue everywhere, languidly working at my sex before circling around my clit. I throw my head back, and feel my hands itching to grab at his hair, to grind against his mouth. It’s like he could feel my desperation, smirking against me.

“Patience.” He murmurs, and I grumble a bit, but the annoyance quickly dissipates as he moves to suck around my clit, causing an entirely new slew of sensations to rack my body. I can feel myself writhing, and he hooks his hands under my thighs to keep me in place. Before I can even tell him, I’m coming against his face, my body convulsing in his touch as he continued to eat me out like he couldn’t get enough.

He only stopped when I weakly moaned his name, looking up at me through my thighs, my wetness coating his chin. “Please- I need you.” I say, trying to now fulfill the growing ache that came from being so painstakingly empty. He nodded, understanding me immediately and moving to undo the handcuffs. Immediately, my hands wrap around his neck as I feel him free his cock from the confines of his briefs, and I briefly glance down, taking note of his size, and knowing how well I’d be fucked in a few brief moments.

He guided his member to my aching cunt, and pushed into me, inch by inch. I could feel my breath snatched away in an instant, as my jaw dropped in a quiet moan. He seemed to enjoy the sensation of entering me as well, his eyes closing in concentration.

“So warm.. so perfect.” He murmurs, moving down to kiss my jaw. “Can I move? Can I please move?” He begs, the neediness in his voice apparent.

I nod, feverishly. “Yes. Please.”

He immediately starts moving in a fast pace, using a strength I didn't know he had in him. I could feel myself shifting up the bed with every thrust he pummeled into me, and every movement of his hips only elicited longer, louder moans. It seemed to spur him on, as he pushed my legs to my chest to gain an even deeper angle, which had me screaming in pleasure at that point.

“I’m not gonna last..” He moans out, and I nod, indicating we were in the same boat. His hand slipped in between our bodies, finding my clit in an attempt to have me finish before him.

“Please, pretty girl.” He moans, his movements never letting up. “Come for me.”

I do, feeling myself tighten around his cock, as my walls spasmed all around. It seemed to push him towards his release as well, as I felt his warmth seep into my deepest point. He pulled out of me, exhausted, laying beside me on the bed.

His hands reached over for me, and I made my way into his arms, laying my head on his chest, feeling our rapid heartbeats calm down together after our act of passion. His chest rises up and down, as does mine, and we bask in the afterglow of what just took place.

“We never did get to that magic trick.” I say, finally speaking, my words coming out a little breathlessly.

I can feel his laughter as he places a tender kiss to the top of my head, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. “After that, I’ll teach you whatever you want. Sure you could teach me a thing or two too, hmm?"

“Deal.” I say, closing my eyes and relaxing in the warmth of a man that was no longer as stranger than before.

wow!! sorry for disappearing on you guys like that!! idk how long it's been since my last post, all i know it's been a while and i'm very deeply sorry!! i hope this makes up for it. i actually wrote this as a submission to @imagining-in-the-margins 's meet cute challenge, so! fun fun fun. please reblog, like, comment, or whatever!! i genuinely love seeing what everyone has to think . just as a warning, my posting may get sporadic for the next month or so, but i promise by december we're gonna be on that weekly fic grind. again, so sorry for the sudden disappearance!!! i appreciate everyone very much for their patience!!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

3K notes · View notes

godhandler · 23 days ago

Text

yuuji x reader, idiots in love, 1300+, besties who have never had a kiss before <3

teenage midnights are for the delinquents, the up-to-no-good kids, the bad influences– namely, you and best friend!itadori yuuji. the stolen liquor bottles clink-clinked under your hoodies as you sneaked out the Jujutsu High kitchen, headed towards The Big Tree to execute the next part of your mission: try out alcoholism.

gojo-sensei would have your heads if he knew what you two were up to. “careful, up ye go!” yuuji hoists you on his back so that you can reach up to one of the thicker branches and pull yourself up there. “don’ ye drop the bottles on my head.”

he’s a long way from Sendai but the accent stuck like gum under a school desk. you watch him easily climb up The Tree and sit on the branch (which bends a little under his weight) with you. the thick foliage now veils you two from the outside world, which is great because yuuji’s already producing the bottles from under his hoodie. “soju, whiskey, white rum,” he reads out your loot, “do ye think iss enough?”

“how should i know, i’ve never drank either.” you reply, before a pressing concern hits you. “yuuji, what if we get too drunk and fall off the tree?”

he pauses his attempt to bite the cap off the whiskey before taking his yellow hoodie off. you let your eyes wander (why not? not like he’ll notice) across his collarbones, biceps, the outline of his abs barely visible through his tank top, the promise of facial hair under his jaw. he wraps his hoodie around your waists together, tying the sleeves into a knot, temple-like circle of protection around you two.

how could anyone not fall for yuuji? how could you not? but itadori yuuji is a teenage boy, and like all teenage boys, he’s never comprehended the idea that the pretty girl he has a crush on might like him back. he doesn’t see the way you look at him when he’s not looking, he doesn’t get that you enjoy his company a bit more than a friend would. he doesn’t know that he’s not the only one in love.

“don’ worry, i’ve gotcha. we won’ fall now.” “yuuji, we’re tied to each other, not the tree. now we’ll just fall off together.”

you stifle a shared giggle at his idiocy (everything is funnier when you’re breaking rules). “i don’ mind,” and even in the dark you can tell that his cheeks are as cherry-pink as his fluffy hair. “i’d fall with ye alright.”

as carefree as you can affect, you try to look elsewhere, at the glittery tokyo city skyline and the stars overhead because you’re blushing hard as well. how can you not when he says things like that?

you clear your throat: “aren’t you cold, yuuji? it’s december.”

he flexes his arms at that, “i’m strong, don’ worry.”

“lemme–” you scoot closer to him, almost nose-to-nose (or chest-to-boobs, in yuuji’s mind, who is desperately trying to not think of it), sharing body heat, so mammalian. the branch shakes when you move. the bottles, squeezed between the two of you, clink. “–warmer now?”

“ye-yeah,” he picks up the whisky, “wanna try?”

“damn, we didn’t bring glasses, yuuji!” “what are ya even talkin' about? just drink normal,” which is what he says, but as you give him the bottle back after your first sip (“yuckk, it’s disgusting, like hand sanitizer!”) he realises his grave mistake. you put your lips on the rim, you drank from it, your tongue licked off the drop at the end. it’s like an indirect kiss.

“i… i guess so, yuuji, but you don’t have to take it like that. you can… uh, you can wipe the rim before you drink? my mouth is clean, i brushed–and i floss too–”

fuck, i said it loud out? yuuji panics a little. “no, no i don’ mind, i didn’ mean it like that! yer clean! there’s no need to wipe the rim–”

“i really don’t mind, now that you say it, it is like an indirect kiss–”

“– i don’ wanna wipe the rim! i’d indirect kiss ye anytime!”

the world is never rawer than it is at fifteen.

yuuji backpedals as gracefully as a dying cockroach. “i’m drunk. ignore me.” he hasn’t even had a single sip. “that was sukuna speakin’.”

internally screaming at his own cringefail behaviour, the boy doesn’t realise that despite whatever throne he’s raised you to in his head, you’re just the same as him. the most pathetic creature of all humanity: a teen in love.

courage. have courage! i’m a strong independent woman and i speak my mind!

but it comes out as a whisper, “i don’t mind indirectly kissing you, yuuji.” and you immediately backtrack as well: “i’m sorry. i’m drunk too.” you had ONE fucking sip.

yuuji can feel your breath on his neck, your lashes fluttering against his skin. anymore of this and he’s going to melt into a puddle. he doesn’t even realise when his hand reaches under your hoodie to rest against the curve of your waist. but you do, you can’t help shivering at his touch– his rough palm, his fingers curled, nails slightly denting crescents onto your soft skin.

she’s warm, it occurs to him. “in movies people get drunk and indirectly kiss all the time, i’ve seen it. but they don’ do it indirectly… so-so we’re drunk now–and–”

“yuuji,” you tell him. “kiss me.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice.

heart jackhammering in his chest, he bends down over you, memorising your pretty face and your closed eyes and your cutely red cheeks and your little pout for a second. you miss the first time, your lips landing instead on his chin, and while you giggle he brings his other hand to cradle your ear and lead you to his mouth properly.

it’s soft. his lips are soft. you can’t help bringing your arms around him, brushing your fingers into his hair. “-ah!” his mouth gasps open when teasingly pull his locks, and you can feel his smile on your lips before he lightly nips your bottom lip. A hand strokes the side of your waist gently. it’s such a fragile dream he’s lucked into, he doesn’t want to wake up any time soon.

he’s the bolder one: his tongue presses through your mouth, shoulders visibly heaving as your tongues meet. your hands shake. his tighten onto you.

he licks up the length of your tongue, drinks your moans down, lets you suck on his tongue. there’s a tent in his pants that he hopes you haven’t noticed (of course you have, sitting as close as you are) but you’re both way too embarrassed to mention it. he doesn’t even dare to move his hands up towards your breasts– at best, he’s grazed the edges of your bra. that’s okay. all in good time. this is only the first time you’ve kissed. drunk on potent youth under the star-wide sky, it feels like the first of a lifetime-full of kisses to come.

“ye do taste like hand sanitizer”, a thought from his buzzed head that he mumbles out. “and yer so soft.”

“you have soft hair… lips too,” you reply.

“kiss me more,” he drops his forehead to yours, “or i’ll die, i’m tellin’ ya.”

you break apart only when the sky starts to lighten from pitch black to purple, dawn threatening on the horizon. he’s not done and neither are you. he kisses you one last time, a birdlike peck on your lips, the tip of your nose, a little pinch on your waist. there’s quite a few last kisses. every time he decides just one more and that’s it.

the untouched bottles clink-clink in your laps as you sigh into his neck. he rubs your back and arms, keeping you warm as the temperature starts dropping. his cheek rests on the top of your head and you can still feel him blushing through your scalp. there’s so much to say– wow, that was amazing or i think i have feelings for you or i want to do this again or keep touching me– that you end up saying nothing at all. nothing but–

“ hey, yuuji…” “mmm?” “i think your hoodie’s all stretched out now.”

a/n: gojo next day– aah yuuji-kun did you sleep well last night teehee

masterlist new!

187 notes · View notes

risuola · 8 months ago

Text

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

629 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 8 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [17] - Disagreements

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Petty fights can start out of nowhere.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Waking up and not finding Bucky in bed next to you wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

He always woke up before you, but this was the first time you were hearing a second, very familiar voice booming through the house and you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes.

What on earth was your father doing in your apartment this early on in the morning?

You pushed the covers off of you and looked around the room for Alpine but she wasn’t there either. Grabbing the first thing you found -which turned out to be one of Bucky’s crisp white button up shirts- you pulled it over your tank top and shorts, then went downstairs, following the voices.

“If this has been your plan all along,” your father’s stern voice reached your ear from Bucky’s office, “I swear to God—”

“I don’t have any plans,” Bucky’s much calmer voice replied and you pulled your brows together, approaching the doorframe but still shielding yourself from their gaze. Alpine meowed when she saw you, running to you but neither of them seemed to notice it.

“No?” your father asked. “So this is not some sort of elaborate plot to take over my territory?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why was she having a briefing with Rogers?”

“Because I don’t think my wife should be kept out of the business entirely,” Bucky said as you bent down to scratch at Alpine’s head before straightening your back again. “It’s the new generation, we do things differently now.”

Your father let out a furious breath.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t care what you do with your own business, but if you’re putting ideas into my daughter’s head—”

“Arthur, she’s smart as fuck, you do realize that?” Bucky snapped, making you smirk. “There’s no idea I can put into her head that she hasn’t thought about to begin with.”

“Not to mention,” you said and stepped into the office, making both of them turn to look at you. “She has a phone. So if you wanted to see me, you could just let me know.”

Your father gritted his teeth and stole a look at Bucky. “Give us a minute.”

If it were anyone else, you were sure they would be hurrying off to the door because you had seen your father intimidate countless men throughout your life, but Bucky didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest as he leaned back to his desk.

“This is my house,” he replied, making your father blink a couple of times.

“And I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”

Bucky turned to look at you as if silently asking if you wanted him to leave and you shook your head, then crossed your arms.

“Anything you want to say, you can say it in front of my husband,” you told him, making Bucky grin proudly. “So?”

Your father’s glare at you was enough to make the sudden chill of nervousness shoot through you, but you didn’t let it show on your face as he shook his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I literally woke up to you guys’ yelling to be honest—”

“Having a meeting with Rogers,” he cut you off impatiently as if he didn’t have the time for your jokes. “What is that about?”

You let a smirk pull your lips.

“Did Ian come and cry to you about it?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“He did let me know, yes,” he said. “As he was supposed to. Seeing that you weren’t planning on telling me about it, I’m glad he did.”

“You have your messenger boy there already,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s clear you don’t need me to tell you anything.”

He took a deep breath like he was trying his hardest to stay calm and you stole a look at Bucky who gave you an assuring smile, watching you two.

“Sweetheart,” he said, the slight condescending tone in his voice making you clench your jaw. “I know that you want to be a part of the business, and Bucky is for some reason fueling this nonsense, but—”

“He’s not fueling anything,” you growled. “I happen to have my own mind, unlike what you seem to think.”

“Y/N—”

“I mean who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“Okay!” Bucky cut you two off before your father could answer. “Can I suggest we all calm down before anyone says anything they might regret?”

Both you and your father looked at him before turning to glare at each other again and your father pursed his lips, heaving a sigh.

“I’m not trying to patronize you,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Might be too late for that.”

“But I need you to be safe,” he said, making Bucky frown for the first time. “And becoming a part of the business…”

“To repeat, I can make my own decisions.”

“I’m not putting her in danger, Arthur,” Bucky said, his voice calm despite the stern expression on his face. “You know I would never.”

“Right,” your father scoffed and gave you a warning look. “Y/N, I mean it. What you’re trying to do—”

“What makes you think I’m trying to do anything?”

“Because I wrote the playbook you’re following,” your father replied. “I taught you every single trick, and now you’re going to turn around and treat me like I’m clueless?”

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

“I’m not doing anything that you haven’t been doing with me for years now,” you said. “You pushed me out of the picture, you’ve been treating me with kid gloves and you have the audacity to give me that speech right now?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I’m only doing what your mother would like, for you.”

You let out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No,” you said. “You’re doing what you would like, for me. And I’m done letting you.”

You could see a muscle in his jaw ticking as he glared at you for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“We will talk later when you’re calmer,” he said and stormed out of the office before you heard the front door slam. You rolled your eyes and turned to Bucky who gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Good morning,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” you asked back and Bucky waved a hand in the air.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Hungry though. Breakfast?”

You huffed out a laugh and nodded your head.

“Yes please,” you said. “Jesus, what a morning.”

It wasn’t that you kept the fact that you were meeting Ethan this afternoon a secret, it was just that you didn’t think Bucky needed to know about it. This marriage was fake yes, and it wasn’t like you were having a secret affair meeting, you two were just friends and it was a normal gather up with your friend.

Or at least, that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of the whole morning.

You drummed your fingernails on the table and reached out to grab your cup to take a sip of your latte, but lowered it when the wind bells by the door chimed and your gaze fell on Ethan. He looked around the café, then gave you a small smile and approached you as you stood up.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a curt hug and you smiled as he pulled back, then sat down again.

“Hi,” you said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you two,” he said as he sat down and ordered a coffee. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said. “You?”

“Busy a bit. You look—” he paused for a moment when his eyes fell upon your wedding ring. “Married.”

You let out a nervous laugh and heaved a sigh.

“Mm hm.”

He pursed his lips together and took a deep breath.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, making you shake your head.

“Ethan…”

“I do,” he said. “I’m—It was stupid to say all that shit. Trust me, I wanted to text and apologize so many times, I just didn’t think you wanted to hear my voice.”

You rolled your eyes at him in a lighthearted manner.

“Ethan, you happen to be the only person in my life who’s not…” you trailed off and he gave you a small smile.

“Who’s not following the same career path?”

You clicked your tongue. “That’s one way to put it,” you said, making him chuckle. “So yeah, I reacted badly as well. I was very tense when we had that conversation.”

He offered his hand. “Truce then?”

You scoffed a laugh, then reached out to shake his hand.

“Everyone knows I’m a big fan of truce,” you said and he grinned, then thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee.

“So,” he said after taking a sip of his coffee. “How is it then? Do guns go off when you and Barnes enter the building or…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Ethan.”

“Do you guys do that Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit?”

“Wrong movie reference.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Does he still dislike me?”

The correct and honest answer would be that Bucky didn’t even think about Ethan, at least in your opinion. Not only did he have bigger problems what with HYDRA and their attacks in the city, his dynamic with the other bosses were bound to get tense with you officially becoming a part of the business.

So, he was probably too busy to sit around and think about Ethan.

“Nah I don’t think so,” you managed to say, leaning back. “That night at the club, I know he was an asshole but we were…things were weird between us then.”

“I’d say so,” he said, and licked his lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you said. “As long as I can answer it hypothetically, that is.”

“Is it real?”

That managed to make you pull back slightly and you blinked a couple of times before heaving a sigh.

“I don’t understand what you—”

“Because I’d like to think that we had something, back at college,” he said, making your brows furrow. “And that night at the club, you weren’t looking at him like…I could’ve sworn you hated him, Y/N.”

“Like I said, things were weird between us then,” you muttered, turning the coffee cup in this saucer and he shook his head.

“And it changed that fast?” he asked. “Listen, I’m going to shut up if you don’t want me to talk about this, but if it’s not real—”

“If it’s not real, you’ll save me?” you asked with a scoff. “I’m not some princess in a castle Ethan.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Hypothetically, even if it weren’t—”

“Hypothetically,” he cut you off. “I’d happily wait for your divorce.”

That made you stop talking as your eyes snapped up to his and you gawked at him in a dumbfounded silence.

Ah.

Alright, this was…

The idea was quite lovely, to be honest. As you had told Becca, being with Ethan would be so simple, he was a civilian so there would be no ulterior motives or plotting or any of the tension you knew each and every couple in business had. Not only that, but Bucky had broken your heart so terribly all those years ago and you were sure that if you decided to see or treat this marriage like a real marriage, he would do it again.

Unlike Ethan.

Dear God, it would be so peaceful.

But you knew you couldn’t deal with whatever this was when you were going for your father’s crown. This right here was a distraction, and you couldn’t entertain the idea of a distraction.

You clicked your tongue and sat up straighter, checking the time.

“Sorry, I just remembered I had this thing,” you muttered, desperate to get away and he stood up as you did.

“Y/N,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry if that sounded—”

“No no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I don’t…I get what you mean, I really do. And as much as I know you mean well, saying this now is very disrespectful to Bucky so I’d rather if we didn’t speak about this again.”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head.

“Understood,” he said. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you asked and gave him a short hug, then walked out of the café, your heart beating fast.

“What the fuck was that?” you muttered to yourself as you got into your car and let out a breath, then started driving.

As you walked into the Barnes skyscraper, you were still trying to comprehend just why the hell, out of all things to say to Ethan, you had chosen ‘disrespect to Bucky’ as your answer. What Ethan had said wasn’t even so bad, you had been reminding Bucky that you two would eventually get a divorce and even talk about all the things you’d do on your second wedding and marriage to someone else, but when Ethan so much as mentioned waiting for your divorce, you had decided to draw the line?

This was rather absurd.

You rolled your shoulders back as someone escorted you to the elevator and pressed the button for you and you checked your reflection in the mirror until you got to the top floor and the doors opened.

“I can find my way, thank you,” you said told the bodyguard and walked out of the elevator to make your way to Bucky’s office.

“Is he in?” you asked the receptionist who stood up when she saw you.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Great, thank you,” you said and knocked on the door, then opened it to step inside. Bucky was sitting behind his desk, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the computer screen, but he turned his head when he saw you and raised his brows.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said and approached the couch to fling yourself on it, crossing your legs. “So my father didn’t call me after this morning, has George called you?”

“No.”

The curt answer made you tilt your head and you frowned at him.

“Have you heard from anyone else?” you asked. “Because I feel like—”

“How was lunch with Ethan?”

That made you stop talking and you raised your brows, your stomach doing a flip.

“Are you having me followed?” you asked sharply through your teeth and he let out a bitter chuckle.

“I don’t need to have you followed,” he said. “You met the guy in my territory in case you forgot.”

You licked your lips, crossing your arms defiantly.

“So what, am I supposed to report back to you every single thing I do now?”

“I think I’d like to know if you’re meeting your ex -who by the way, still wants to fuck you- like a week after our wedding, yeah,” he shot back, making your jaw drop.

“Easy there, cowboy.”

“Y/N we had an agreement—”

“Does it look like I’m sleeping with him from where you’re sitting?” you asked. “I know the agreement. You don’t sleep with anyone else and neither do I, until our divorce.”

“Then?”

“Then I can have lunch with whoever I want.”

“To repeat, he wants to—”

“It was a friendly lunch and he just apologized for reacted badly when I told him we would be getting married,” you defended yourself hurriedly, knowingly leaving out the part Ethan said about your potential divorce and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh I wonder why he reacted badly to us getting married,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What could it be? Any ideas?”

God damn it.

“This is not even a real marriage,” you hissed as you leaned in, careful not to speak too loud in case anyone outside could hear. “Or did you forget about that part?”

“Did you forget about the part we’re supposed to act madly in love?” he asked back, his voice calm unlike yours and even though he did have a point, the petulant part of you refused to acknowledge it, so you did the first thing you thought of and got up from the couch.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m done I said!” you snapped over your shoulder and walked out of the office without looking back, making your way to the elevator. Your heart was beating in your ears and you grabbed your phone, and touched Becca’s name as the doors closed, the elevator moving.

“Hey,” Becca’s voice reached you. “What’s up?”

“I snapped at Ethan for disrespecting Bucky and then snapped at Bucky within the same hour,” you said and she paused for a moment, then hummed.

“I’m getting the wine ready,” she said. “Grab some sushi on your way here?”

“You got it,” you said and hung up the phone, then leaned your head back to the elevator wall. “What the actual fuck am I doing?”

Chapter 18

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob! bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob boss bucky barnes #mob au #mob!au

412 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months ago

Text

Finally // beautiful stranger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Summary: You’ve got your heart broken once and you refuse to do it again. When a tall, green-eyed stranger walks into your life, you have to make sure he’s going to stay before letting him in completely.

Square Filled: finally // beautiful stranger by halsey (2020) for @spnsongchallengebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Your eyes, so crisp, so green Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet You got hips like Jagger and two left feet And I wonder if you'd like to meet

The only twenty-four-hour diner is across town from where you live but you find yourself in it anyway. The place isn’t busy considering it’s nearing one in the morning but you don’t want to go home. If you do, you’ll think about him and you really don’t want to cry yourself to sleep. At last here, you can compose yourself not to cry in front of people.

That, and you’re always hungry after getting your heart broken.

“Let me top your coffee off,” the waitress says and fills your cup again.

“I want another round, please. Bourbon. Neat.”

“Sure.”

When the waitress leaves, you finally notice the two men on the other side of the diner. One has his back to you but the other one is facing toward you and by God, this man is gorgeous. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see his crisp green eyes. Like candy apples. The sight makes you sad. Your ex was just as beautiful, and here you are eating your sorrows away. You look down and take a bite of your pie with a sniffle. The waitress comes back with your Bourbon, and you take a big gulp of it.

The green-eyed man says something to his friend before walking over to you.

“Are you okay?”

You down the rest of the Bourbon even though it burns. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, because of pig-headed men. I hate men,” you scoff and take another bite of your pie.

He chuckles not at you but at your comment. “Can I sit?”

“Sure. Want some of my pie? Alcohol fills me up and I won’t be able to eat this all.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He takes your fork and scoops some pie onto it before eating it. “My name is Dean.”

“I hope you treat your lady better than my man did, Dean.”

“I don’t have a lady but if I did, I would.” You nod and take the fork back for another bite. “Want me to beat him up?”

Maybe it’s your drunken brain or maybe it was genuinely funny, but you laugh at the thought of your ex getting beat by some stranger.

“You might not be able to take him on. He’s pretty big.”

“You clearly have no idea who I am, sweetheart. I’ll get my brother to help.” You giggle and bite your lower lip to stop your grin from spreading too wide. “What a shame.”

“What?”

“I know I shouldn’t be hitting on you but that guy doesn’t know what he gave up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had a woman with the most gorgeous smile. If you were mine, I’d never want to stop seeing it.”

You smile again, this time, a shy one. It makes you sad because all beautiful men are like this.

Your voice is velvet through a telephone You can come to mine, but both my roommates are home Think I know a bar where they would leave us alone And I wonder if you'd take it slow

You and Dean kept in touch after meeting him half-drunk and crying over another man, and you’re kind of nervous to let him in more. You have a daughter who you love dearly, and bringing in strangers isn’t something you want to do to her. You don’t want her getting to know someone, bond with him, only for him to leave. Her father didn't want her so how can you expect anyone else to stay?

You and Dean hang when you can, when you have someone else to watch her, but finding a sitter is hard enough as it is. You don’t make a lot of money because you depended on your ex-boyfriend for everything. You didn’t have to work when he paid for everything. You’re trying your best even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice,” Dean says over the phone.

His voice is so velvety smooth that it makes you get butterflies from words alone.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy. It’s been hard to get away.”

“I get it. Look, I have some free time now. I’d like to see you.”

You think of Amelia and how you can’t leave her here alone. She’s only six, she needs someone to watch her.

“I’d love to, Dean, but I have a daughter here that I can’t leave alone. I can’t afford a sitter right now otherwise I’d say yes.”

“Right. Of course, I understand.”

He sounds disappointed. You bite your lower lip in thought. Your sister lives a few houses down from you. If she says yes, you can leave and hang with Dean at a bar or something. You don’t want him coming here. As much as you like him, you’re not ready for Amelia to meet him.

“Let me ask my sister if she can watch her. I’ll text you if I can or not.”

“If you can, I’ll be at Joe’s. I hope to see you there.”

You immediately dial your sister because it’s a lot harder for her to say no to you over the phone rather than text.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Okay, don’t say no right away. Just listen to me.”

“You want me to watch Amelia?”

“Just for a little bit. Maybe a couple of hours. I met this guy. His name is Dean.” You hear her sigh which makes you pause. You know this sigh. It’s a disappointed sigh. “Jess, it’s not what you think.”

“You just broke up with Trevor how long ago? You already met someone?”

“It’s not like I’m going to marry him. I just… I can’t explain it. He’s nice…”

“Trevor was nice.”

“Jess, please? Just a couple of hours. I’ll pay you if you want.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she sighs. “Fine, I’ll watch her only for two hours.”

“You got it. Thank you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I’d hate to see you hurt over yet another guy.”

Trust me, me too. After she comes over, Amelia is happy to see her aunt. Joe’s is only ten minutes from your place, and you text Dean you’ll be right there. He’s in the back playing with darts when you arrive, and you head over with a smile.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, her name is Amelia. She’s my pride and joy. My ex was her father, and you know that didn’t end too well. I’d have you come over but I don’t want her meeting someone still so new, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. Trust me.”

“I like you, Dean. I just need to take it slow.”

“Whatever you need to feel safe.”

Just like that, you fall for him a bit more.

I grab your hand and then we run to the car Singin' in the street and playin' air guitar Stuck between my teeth just like a candy bar And I wonder if it goes too far to say

After two months of dating, you decide it’s best if he gets to meet Amelia. You’re not sure if it’s going to crash and burn or work out but you have to put faith in this decision. Dean has been nothing but good to you, so you’re taking the chance he’ll love your daughter. Amelia knows you’ve been seeing someone. She’s not stupid. She’s a very smart six-year-old--too smart for her own good.

“Dean is almost here.”

“Do you like him, Mommy?”

“I do,” you smile.

Amelia shrugs and goes back to coloring. Dean shows up in his gorgeous Impala that you love riding in. He even let you drive it once which was thrilling. You leave Amelia coloring in the living room to greet Dean at the door. He keeps the kiss short and sweet knowing your daughter is here. You turn to let him in when you see your daughter standing right behind you with her hands on her hips.

“Hi, you must be Amelia. My name is--”

“Are you gonna break my Mommy’s heart like Daddy did?”

You’re taken aback by the question. Dean doesn’t seem scared by her sass, in fact, he encourages it.

“No, I won’t.”

“You better not, mister. I know how to fight.” Dean can’t help but laugh. “You better be a good one.”

“Okay, why don’t you go play in your room.” Amelia leaves without another word, and you close the front door with an apologetic face. “I’m sorry about her. It’s been rough lately.”

“She’s a cute kid. I know we agreed to stay in tonight, but what do you say I take you and Amelia out? Maybe to a zoo? I bet she’d love seeing the animals.”

You look out the window and see his shiny black car. You love his car but it’s not suitable for Amelia.

“You know I love your car, but there are no seatbelts. I am not putting my baby in a car with no seatbelts.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You two settle on the couch and put a movie on that you both love. Within the first act, he pulls you into him and wraps his arm around you. You should be happy, and you’re trying really hard to be, but Trevor behaved the exact same way. He was so nice and loving in the beginning but he let his true colors show later on. Had you not run when you did, you would have had bruises on your body from him.

Still, through all that fear, you can’t seem to stay away from Dean.

I've never recognized a purer face You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place Used to think that lovin' meant a painful chase But you're right here now and I think you'll stay

It’s been a week since Dean promised to take you and Amelia to the zoo. He promised to have a car that is safe enough for your daughter, so you’re not sure if that means upgrading the Impala or getting another car altogether. Dean loves his car so you don’t think he’d give up his precious car for you.

“Amelia, are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait to see the lions, Mama! And the giraffes!”

“If you’re lucky, you might get a kiss from a giraffe.”

Amelia giggles as you help put her shoes on.

“I hope you keep this one. I like him.”

“I like him, too.” Then again, I liked the other one. A car you don’t recognize pulls up to your house, and you take two steps outside to see who it could be. Dean exits and smiles when he sees your confused face. He’s not driving his beloved Impala. He’s driving a new version of a Dodge Ram. “Whose car is that?”

“Mine. I bought it yesterday.”

“Why?”

“It has seatbelts.” Your heart melts a bit. “Now I can take Amelia out without you worrying about her safety. I hear this is a really good car.”

“You’d do that for her?”

“I’d do that for you.”

You want to move toward him and kiss him but you’re stuck. You can’t move. You’re shocked because Trevor would have never done this for you or Amelia. He loved driving sports cars that were never safe for children, and he refused to get a car that could support her.

Dean might be a keeper.

Oh, we're dancin' in my livin' room And up come my fists And I say, I'm only playing, but The truth is this I've never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss And I'm terrified, but the truth is this I said Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms and I know That beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong And I hope Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall

Amelia is sleeping but you and Dean wanted to have date night. Your sister isn’t in town to watch her and you didn’t want to take her to a bar at such a late hour. Dean offered to bring the date to you, which is why you two are slow dancing in your darkened living room. The only source of light is the candles you lit prior to him coming.

Soft rock flows through your speakers at a low tone so as not to wake Amelia, but Dean doesn’t mind. Dean runs his hands down your waist and grips your hips gently, and you lean up to press your lips against his. You’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even Trevor. He says all the right things, does all the right things, and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter.

You’re still terrified but it’s a good terrified. You’re scared of what this could mean, not that he could break your heart.

You pull away from him and stare into his beautiful green eyes.

“Don’t make me regret falling for you,” you whisper.

He leans his forehead on yours.

“I won’t.”

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

203 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 7 months ago

Text

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, fingering, p in v, suspected cheating, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

This is the Coriolanus x Reader ending AKA ending 1. The next ending I wrote AKA ending 2 will be for Crassus x Reader.

This is also a bit long.

Masterlist

Ending #1-Coriolanus:

“How're you feeling?” Coryo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder as you sit together on his bed. You're literally nestled into him; his arms are wrapped around you while yours are wrapped around him.

“I'm fine.” You lie.

“No, you're not.” The blonde with a halo of golden curls tells you. Of course, he knows you're not fine. He knows everything about you; knows you better than you even know yourself.

“I don't want you to leave.” You confess, struggling to hold back tears.

Coriolanus had received his conscription letter for the Peacekeepers that day. A letter that changed everything the two of you had planned for your lives. It definitely changed Coryo's plans, since he was going to make things official with you. Make you his girl.

But now he's been drafted into service in the Peacekeepers. Apparently there's a dire need for Peacekeepers in District 8. Coriolanus says apparently because he's abso-fucking-lutely positive that his father's behind him being drafted into the Peacekeepers. All because he wants you to himself.

Coriolanus isn't stupid, he did graduate the top of your class at the Academy. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. With how his father keeps looking at you lustfully paired with the sudden conscription notice, well the blonde boy just knew he was being shipped away from you so that his father, General Crassus Snow, could poach his girl.

You.

Coriolanus also knew that it was now or never to tell you about his deep running feelings for you; to warn you about his father's dark and lecherous intentions towards you.

“Y/N, baby, we need to have a serious talk.” The curly haired blonde tells you, his baby blues boring into you with such seriousness that it was somewhat unsettling.

“About you leaving in 2 days?” You ask, sniffling.

“Yes,” Coryo nodded, “that's part of it.”

“Then what's the other part of it?” You curiously ask.

Coriolanus hits you with the bomb of, “I’d like you to be my girl; wait for me.”

“Wait for you? But, Coryo, Peacekeepers serve for 20 years and-” You begin to voice your worries only to be cut off and silenced by Coryo's lips pressing onto yours in a desperate, needy kiss.

Any thoughts that were in your head float away as you feel the softness of your best friend's lips crash into yours. Your instincts take over and before you can blink, you're grabbing Coryo's shirt and returning his kiss. Your lips slot against his in inexperienced motions.

Neither one of you has much experience, so your kiss is full of bumping noses and lips that're smooshing together in excitement and neediness.

Pulling back for air, Coryo leans his forehead on yours and nearly pants, “Wait for me, Y/N.” His baby blues look so vulnerable as he pleads, “Please, wait for me.”

So, of course, you promise to wait for him.

And that promise is what's having Coryo kissing you and pawing at you, begging you to fuck him before he has to go away. To let him make you his girl in every sense of the word.

You're nervous, having never been with anyone before, but you agree to sleep with Coryo. You figure that he'll be sweet and gentle since he's never been with anyone either. You think that the two of you losing your virginity to each other will be romantic and like it's portrayed in novels and romcoms.

But it's anything, but that.

Coryo's got no idea what the hell he's doing once the two of you get naked. For all of his bravado and confidence around everyone in the public eye, he's just a touch starved boy that needs somebody to love him so much. So much that it's borderline pathetic.

But, he's obsessed with you. And that obsession gives way to him nervously slotted between your legs, kissing and sucking on your neck while fingering your tight virgin hole with his long, slender digits. He's a bit awkward with his movements at first, but after you tell him what feels good and what feels off he starts to get the hang of things.

Coryo's thumb experimentally presses into your clit, swiping it back and forth, as his fingertips press against that spongy spot hidden deep inside of your wet cunt. His fingers, long and slender, slip smoothly in and out of your pussy.

Your chest heaves up and down as you feel a tightness form in your lower belly. “Coryo, I think I'm close.” You tell the curly-haired blonde, voice a wavering gasp.

“Wait.” Coryo ordered, his baritone desperate as he ordered you not to cum. “I wanna be inside you when you cum.” He tells you, pulling his hand out from between your legs.

You've never had anyone, other than yourself, make you cum before- but you felt the need to cum right now, so despite the hesitation you felt about losing your virginity you agreed to let Coryo be your first. Be inside of you when you both cum.

As soon as you said okay Coryo placed a shaky hand on your thigh, holding your leg spread wide while using his other hand to help guide his fat cock inside of your tight, innocent hole. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you feel him push every large agonizing inch of his dick into your wet, but too tight pussy.

Coriolanus, being a greenboy in bed, had no idea what he was doing or how to make the first time not be so uncomfortable for you. All he had was his baser instincts to rely on.

You let out tiny whimpers as your best friend’s large cock tore you open; he let out a guttural moan at the tight feeling of you. And when he finally pushed past your barrier and fully sheathed himself inside of your snug, wet warmth the both of you let out high pitched moans and groans. Your sounds of first time pleasure and pain sounded like a beautiful duet in the still of the night.

Your cunt felt so good around his cock. So much better than his hand does when he jerks off. So much so, that Coryo couldn't control himself; he ruts into you at a fast and needy pace.

He can't help it. You just feel too damn good.

Since you're already at the tip of the edge, Coryo's frantic rutting doesn't bother you. In fact it makes your orgasm bubble up and over.

And he just continues fucking into you at a sloppy, desperate speed, as he ride out your high. Coryo buried his head of platinum curls into the crook of your neck as he groans and whimpers while chasing his release. He's desperate to cum, so his rutting gets quicker in a last-ditch effort to empty his aching balls; to relieve his throbbing 8 inches of hard cock.

Being inexperienced, it doesn't take Coryo too long to cum while whimpering your name desperately.

Coriolanus collapses on top of you, his body acting like a weighted blanket. He doesn't ask if you like it or if it was good. But he does kiss you and tell you that he's gonna miss your pussy when he's gone.

And that you better not let anyone else use your cunt while he's gone cause it's his to play with; nobody else's.

Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

So goddamn much.

You felt so alone…

You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.

No.

Crassus noticed it right away.

And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.

The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.

You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.

Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?

Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.

Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.

Because you want him.

And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…

Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

But you truly did hold onto hope that Coriolanus would make his way up the ranks and quickly. Your sanity depended on it.

Despite Crassus’ attempts in trying to console you, you missed Coryo and wanted him. At least Crassus’ suggestion of taking up a hobby to help clear your mind seemed to help a little.

And what hobby did you pick up?

Baking.

Baking helped you deal with the loneliness Coryo's absence brought you. It also helped you forge a friendship of sorts with Crassus since he became your official taste tester for your treats. Oh, and you just sprung that on him one day. You didn't ask him if he wanted to taste your homemade goodies, just shoved some cookies at him one day and told him to eat it and let you know if you needed to tweek anything.

Baking also helped you deal with Coriolanus' betrayal. A betrayal that, sadly, you heard about from his own father:

Crassus.

While baking some cookies for Yule, the phone rang. Since Grandma'am was old, hard of hearing, and taking a nap it was up to you to answer the phone. Especially since Crassus was at work. If he was home then he would've answered the phone.

But he wasn't home, so answering the phone fell on your shoulders.

You dusted your flour covered hands off on your apron while exiting the kitchen and making your way to the main sitting room of the house; where the phone was at. Sitting on the chair right next to the phone, you picked up the video phone and answered with a simply sweet hello.

Coryo's face appeared on the video screen. “Hi, my darling rose. I've missed you so much.” He greets you with a wide smile that shows off too many of his pearly whites. “I've got some great news, baby.”

But you didn't want to hear it.

No.

Not after what Crassus told you a couple of weeks back.

“I just took an Elite Officer's Placement Exam.” Coriolanus beamed, his cheeks hurting from smiling so manically.

But you weren't smiling. In fact, you didn't see how this news was great for you. Not with what you learned about him lately.

“I bet your district whore’s really happy about that.” You snidely remark, letting him know that you're aware of his cheating while stationed in 8.

The platinum blonde, who's sporting freshly buzzed hair, swallows a lump in his throat. He keeps a neutral face, but internally he's sweating bullets. He can't help, but wonder who told you that he had a district whore.

“I don't have anyone, but you, my darling.” Private Snow tells you in a voice that's as sweet as honey and as charming as ever. But the way he tilts his chin up ever so slightly and bats his long golden eyelashes portrays a fake innocence; manipulative nature about him.

One that you aren't sure you want to see thru.

But…

You decide that you need to confront Coryo with what Crassus told you.

Taking a deep breath, to calm your nerves and slow down your racing heart, you looked Coriolanus straight in his baby blues via the video screen and told him, “Crassus told me that a couple of his contacts in District 8 told him that you've been with a girl for a few weeks.”

Coryo's freshly shaven jaw ticks and his chest tightens slightly. His eyes widen for a split second, only to go back to their correct size. And then Coriolanus does what he's learned to do best while away in 8. He spins things to suit him; to favor his agenda- his wants, his endgame.

“Y/N, baby, listen to me, please-” Coriolanus gives you the believable explanation of, “I haven't been with anyone. All I did was turn in a thief, that was a girl, for punishment. She was whipped and I helped her out of the town square afterwards.”

A look of longing crosses over his face as he swears, “You’re my girl, darling. My one and only girl, who I'm doing everything I can to return to and be with.” He tickles your eyes with honied words of, “I impressed my superiors and they arranged for me to take the Elite Officer's Exam. After I receive my official passing results I'll be transfered to 2.” Coryo raises his hand and caresses the screen as if he was caressing your face. “Once I'm at the Nut I'll send for you.”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by the private's words.

“Officers, even ones in training, are allowed to have a girl if they want.” Coriolanus smiles brightly. “It's a reward for hard work and loyalty to the Capitol.”

“How long will it take you to send for me, Coryo?” You ask, sounding both curious and apprehensive.

“I surmise a month.” He told you, only to quickly follow it up with a desperate sounding, “But you can't tell my father about it. Promise me you won't tell him, Y/N.”

“Why can't I tell him? He's-” You began to ask, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a loud snap of, “Because he'll try to stop you, Y/N!”

Coriolanus shook his head, only to explain in a whooshing baritone, “My father wants you all for himself; he'll never let you be with me. You can't trust him with our plans, Y/N.” Giving you a hard look, one he's learned as a peacekeeper, he orders in a way that seems like a well meaning suggestion, “If you're getting friendly or close to him, stop it. It'll only tear us apart.”

You worried your bottom lip as a sense of melancholy and, if you'll dare say, guilt, washed over you. You didn't want to lie to Crassus about the plans Coriolanus was striking up for you, especially since you've been growing close to his father.

You surely had a hard choice to make.

You had to decide whether or not to believe Coryo when he claims his faithfulness to you; to run away to be with him.

But could you truly believe that he didn't cheat on you, that he was just doing his job in turning in a thief; making sure she cleared the town square after her whipping.

“Time’s almost up, my darling rose, but I'll write.” Coryo told you, making you snap out of the mental blackhole you were falling into. “I love you.”

“Private Snow, time's up!” You heard a man from off screen loudly about at Coryo, causing him to hang up on you before you ever had a chance to say I love you back.

That night while Grandma’am's sleeping you're in the living room with Crassus, watching an old classic movie on CapitolTV. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into his side while Crassus has an arm loosely slung around you.

To an outsider looking in you'd look like a couple. But you weren't a couple. Just friends.

Right?...

Just when the noir detective was about to press a bartender for information on the movie a breaking news alert broke out and interrupted the film.

“We're sorry to interrupt your current programming, but President Ravenstill is dead. He died this evening, in his bed. The president was sickly and his illness was progressing far worse over these last few days.”

Never had a president died in office in the history of Panem. Usually a president would step down if deathly ill or old and an election would be held to name a successor. But the incumbent president would not officially retire until a presidential replacement was elected.

President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head.

Crassus didn't even seem surprised about the president’s demise.

Well, he shouldn't be since he's been paying a contact of his in the Presidential Palace to slowly poison the president to make it look like the elderly man got sick and succumbed to his winter illness.

“What's going to happen to the country now that the President Ravenstill’s dead?” You ask, looking up at Crassus’ pale blue eyes with worry swimming in yours.

Eyes that're the same icy shade as his son's.

But his holds a coldness while Coriolanus seems to hold- well you can't quite put your finger on it, but the younger Snow's eyes don't light up the same as they used to.

That you're certain of.

“The Senate will rule over the country while the election process is out into motion.” Crassus simply explained. Smirking, he adds, “I’ll be tossing my name in the hat as a presidential candidate for the Old Guard.”

“You're going to run for President of Panem?” You ask the middle-aged man, who you’ve developed a tiny crush on over the last few months, as the breaking news story ended and the tv resumed playing the old classic movie.

“Yes.” Crassus nods. “I believe that I can successfully get this country into shape.” And you don't doubt it. He was a former general; a war hero too.

“Petal, you'll be baking all sorts of cookies and cakes in the Presidential Palace once I'm elected.” Crassus confidently told you. He was already making plans for the two of you to be in the Presidential Palace together. “Maybe you can even give the bakers some of your recipes to bake as well.”

“Maybe.” You reply while watching the movie on TV.

Everything feels so surreal right now. Your entire day feels like a dream.

A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.

And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.

A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.

A kiss that turned into other things…

Yule came and went and so did New Year's. Your relationship with Crassus had turned into something that maybe you shouldn't have let happen. Not when you're waiting for Coriolanus to send you word about his officer's promotion.

You knew that he passed his exams since Crassus told you. It was an offhand remark about how one of his sources in 8 told him that Coriolanus passed an Elite Officer's Exam and would be transferred to the Nut in 2. The older Snow also crudely remarked that he felt his son would be bringing his district whore with him to warm his bed.

And his words had an effect on you. A negative one that made you doubt Coryo's feelings for you; his promises and words as well.

Grandma'am was oblivious to your anxiety. The old woman was too busy being enamored by her son's presidential campaign. A campaign that was running smoothly despite it only being a month in. Grandma'am was positive that Crassus would win the nomination for the Old Guard party and would be one of the official candidates.

And Crassus…

Well…

He was so worried about his campaign and beating his opponents that he rarely noticed you, unless it was to blow your back out in bed. But you weren't complaining about that.

You're a human that craves closeness and touch, you'd be a fool to complain about Crassus fucking your brains out night after night.

But you often wonder if you're together only due to circumstances. Crassus has never told you ‘I love you’ like Coriolanus has. That small fact alone has you leaning towards Coryo's offer to run away and join him in 2 at the Nut.

Surely if Crassus cared about you, even held an ounce of love for you, he'd vocalize it. Right?

And one night when Crassus got home he shifted thru the mail and handed you a letter from Coriolanus. “He's at the Nut in 2 now.” Crassus announced- his line of sight on the return address on the envelope he was presenting you.

“You said he'd be transferred there.” You reply, taking the letter.

Crasuss nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I need to go over some papers for my campaign in my office, so you go ahead and read your letter.” Before walking off towards his office down the hall, he told you, “I’ll be a while, but I'll join you in my room later tonight, petal.”

Left alone, since Grandma'am was visiting the neighbor Pluribus, you took a seat on the sofa and opened the envelope, only to pull out the letter. When you unfolded it, a ticket fell out.

Your chest started to race as you realized it was a train ticket. Quickly, you began to read the letter Coriolanus sent you.

My darling rose,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner, but I was preoccupied with moving to the base on District 2. Living in the Nut, a base carved into a large mountain, is quite the adjustment. Also, my training has taken up most of my time too.

But, I promised to send for you once I was settled in, which is why I'm writing you this letter. Enclosed is a ticket for your passage to District 2. I'll be at the station waiting for you.

And please, my darling, pack light.

Love,

Your Coryo

Staring at the ticket in your hand, you realized that you had a choice to make. A hard choice.

Runaway to 2 and hope that Coriolanus truly does love you; that Crassus is wrong and that his son doesn't have a mistress.

Or…

Stay in the Capitol, where you feel safe, with Crassus who's on a quest to be elected president. But, you're so unsure of where things stand with him.

Maybe if you'd ask you'd get an answer, but you won't ask him. And he won't tell you.

In fact, Crassus thinks that everything's fine between the two of you.

But it's not fine.

Maybe he shouldn't have given you that letter, considering it contained a train ticket for the very next day.

But whatever path you choose, you'll be spurning a Snow.

You made your decision, so there's no turning back now.

Or at least that's what you tell yourself as you look out the window of your seat, watching the scenery while clutching your travel case. The canyons and mountains you see on your way to your destination amazes you. You've never seen anything like it in your entire life.

Yes, you've seen the Rockies from the Capitol, but they weren't like the jagged mountains that touched the clouds you're now seeing. No, the mountains you're seeing now look so majestic. Something that belongs to the world of the giants in the old myths from the Pre-Panem world.

You were on the train for nearly two days whenever you saw a sign reading 'District 2 Welcomes You' accompanied by the station’s large building in the distance.

This was it, you finally made it to 2.

You chose Coriolanus and you know that he'll be waiting for you on the platform.

And when you exit the train with your fellow passengers he's rushing towards you, wearing his officer's uniform complete with the gray cap, and you can't help but think that he looks so handsome. With a huge smile, you run up to Coryo.

And when you reach Coryo you drop your travel case and jump into his arms, that he's spread wide open as an invitation for you to hug him. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck while he holds you so tight. His head leans forward and he captures your mouth in a kiss that's passionate and desperate.

“I missed you so much, baby.” Coriolanus tells you between deep, heated kisses. Kisses that are more spit and teeth than soft pillowy lips pressing together.

Kisses that have nearby soldiers whistling and civilians shaking their heads in awe.

Coryo groans while pulling away from the kiss. Smiling, he caresses you cheek. “First things first, my darling. We need to get to the justice building and make you Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

“You want to marry me?” You ask in an awes whisper.

Of course Coriolanus wants to marry you. It's the only way to ensure that he wins. That he has you.

You being married to the young officer means that you'll never be free to be with his father, General Crassus Snow, ever again.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Y/N.” Coriolanus softly coos, unraveling your hands from his neck before bending down to pick up your discarded travel case. Pecking you on the cheek, much like Crassus had done the night before you left the Capitol, Coryo drapes an arm over your shoulder and urges, “Lets go get married, my darling.”

Once you left the Capitol and became the wife of Elite Officer Coriolanus Snow of Panem's Air Force you never saw Crassus again. Well, at least you never saw him in person. You did see him on campaign commercials and in campaign flyers.

You also got a letter from him once.

And only once.

All it said was:

Petal,

I hope that you're happy with the path that you have chosen. I'm afraid that in time you'll discover that your husband is not the man he portrays himself to be, but in fact a snake. I myself have never claimed to be a saint and I never hide my true nature from you. I am, however, truly sorry that your childhood friendship with Coriolanus was used to manipulate you into eloping with him.

I'm sad that I'll have to occupy the Presidential Palace alone; without the sweet smell of your baking wafting around the large kitchen. I shall miss your baking.

Lovingly yours,

Crassus

Crassus was elected President of Panem and he used his new position to unite the 12 districts with the long since destroyed 13. Crassus also pressed 2 to use their military academies to train children to become ruthless killers; volunteers for the games.

The Hunger Games.

Games in which children of both the Capitol and 13 were excused from. Capitol because it's the jewel of Panem, the ruling city. And 13 because that's the apple of Crassus' eye; where all of his nukes and weapons factories are. Also, 13 is the reason for him being filthy rich considering he's an arms dealer.

And when Dr. Gaul addressed President Crassus Snow with a law change that would drastically affect both the games and Panem as a whole, well, the spurned, cold man signed off on it.

You had 4 children with Coryo. And, sadly, they're all marked as District 2 born and bred citizens because of Dr. Gaul's amendment that all children born on PK bases would be district citizens; would have their names registered for The Hunger Games.

And since Coriolanus was stuck in 2 (he tried to get a transfer to 1 or the Capitol, but it was always denied) your children were also made to join the training academy for tributes.

And when your youngest son turned 18 he was voted by his class to volunteer as the male tribute that year.

When you saw the cold glint in your father-in-law’s icy eyes on the TV, during the tribute parade when the chariot for 2 rode up the Corso and made a stop at the platform Crassus was at, you knew without a doubt that your son being a tribute was punishment. Your punishment for leaving him and picking his son.

You and Coriolanus having to watch your youngest son, Javani, fight for his life in an arena that he should've never been in was unsettling, unfair, emotional, and nerve wracking.

All because you picked the son and not the father. If you picked Crassus your child wouldn't be running around in an arena, hand in hand with a girl from District 12 instead of staying with the career pack alliance. But you picked Coriolanus and now, 25 years later, that choice is biting you in the ass.

But at least you listened to your heart when you ran off to be with Coryo.

And Major Coriolanus Snow was obsessively in love with you. So much so that his infatuation with you grew every second of the day.

But that doesn't lessen the pain in knowing that your son's fighting for his life because of the father you chose for him.

All you can do is hope and pray to the gods that Javani uses both his brawn and his brain to find a way to survive the games. But his possessiveness over the tribute girl from 12, who's his age, concerns you. Because there can only be one winner.

It's like that in both the games and life.

And Coriolanus was the winner of your heart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

245 notes · View notes

cherrrydragon · 5 months ago

Text

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: AND THE WORLD KEPT SPINNING

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ Jealousy, jealousy! "I thought you weren't dating anyone?" You blink. "I'm. Not. I told you, we agreed to be better off as friends." Jon furrows his brows. "But she kissed you? And you guys facetime?" pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: jealousy? wc: 3.7k

You wake up to barking in your face.

Blinking away sleep, the first thing you see this morning is Titus. The cute little guy is barking right at you. You smile under the blanket and reach out to pet him. It quiets him down, thankfully.

“Tt. Finally, you’re awake.”

Damian standing behind Titus with his arms crossed, looking down on you. He has this look of this disdain, but you’ve been around him long enough to know it’s not genuine. You sit up slowly, giving Titus one last gentle pat on the head before focusing on Damian. "Good morning, Damian," you say, your voice still slightly husky from sleep. "What's got you up so early?"

He shifts slightly, his arms still crossed, but you notice a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, almost a suppressed smile. "It’s not early. You overslept," he remarks dryly.

You stretch lazily under the blanket, feeling the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window. "I guess I did," you admit with a sheepish grin. "What time is it?"

"Almost mid-morning," Damian replies, unfolding his arms and stepping closer. "Jon and I were starting to wonder if you'd decided to sleep through the entire day."

“Jon’s here?”

“He stayed the night.” Oh. Hm. “Pennyworth has food for you downstairs.”

You nod, processing the information. It wasn't entirely surprising given how tight-knit Damian and Jon are. Really tight-knit. "Thanks, Damian. I'll head down soon."

Damian nods once, eyes assessing your figure before he turns to leave the room, Titus following obediently at his heels. You swing your legs out of bed, stretching again before grabbing some clothes and heading downstairs.

Alfred is already in the kitchen when you arrive, setting out a simple but hearty breakfast (brunch?) spread. "Good morning," he greets you warmly, his eyes knowing, always knowing.

"Morning, Alfred," you greet back with a trying smile. You settle into your seat at the table, feeling more awake as you take in the delicious smells wafting from the food. As you settle at the table, you notice Jon standing off to the side, his eyes glued to his phone. He looks up, eyes widening when he sees you. He quickly makes his way over to you. “[Name]! Hi.”

You chuckle. “Hi, Jon.”

Jon grins, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that makes you feel instantly more awake. “I was starting to think you’d never wake up,” he teases, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Well I’m here now,” you hum, taking a sip of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

"Yep," Jon says, stretching. "Damian and I stayed up talking for a while. You know how he gets." You only hum, taking a longer sip of your tea.

Damian walks into the kitchen just then, having changed into his usual training gear. He gives Jon a quick nod before turning his attention to you. “I see you made it downstairs without collapsing,” he remarks.

"Yeah, well, I figured I’d save Alfred the trouble of finding my body," you reply with a smirk, taking a bite of the warm, fluffy pancakes Alfred has prepared.

"Smart decision," Damian says, grabbing an apple from the counter. "Jon and I have training planned for this morning. Care to join us?"

You glance at Jon, who looks equally enthusiastic about the idea, then back at Damian. "Uh, sure. Why not?"

"Don't take too long," Damian replies, already heading out of the kitchen with Jon following closely behind him.

You finish your breakfast, savoring the last bites of Alfred's delicious cooking. With a satisfied sigh, you head back to your room and change into your training gear—a simple tank top and sweats will do.

When you make your way to the training area, you find Damian already warming up, his movements precise and controlled. The sound of fists hitting the punching bag and occasional grunts bounce around the room. Jon is next to him, stretching and chatting animatedly. They both pause when they see you enter.

Jon grins widely. "There you are.”

Damian nods in acknowledgment, his expression serious but his eyes holding a hint of amusement. "Took you long enough," he remarks, a touch of teasing in his tone.

You roll your eyes playfully. "I had to savor Alfred's cooking while I could."

Jon laughs, clapping you on the shoulder. "Can't blame you there. Alfred's food is the best."

Damian gestures towards the sparring mats. "Enough chatter. Let's begin."

You join them on the mats, stretching briefly to loosen up. Jon takes his position opposite you, while Damian circles around, observing with a critical eye. "We'll start with some basic drills," Damian instructs, his voice firm. "Jon, you remember the routine?"

Jon nods eagerly. "Of course.”

You shift, widening your stance like Natasha showed you. To normal people, you don’t look ready for a fight at all, but a trained eye can see the way your shoulders are squared, the way your arms are tense. A trained eye like Damian’s.

Speaking of, he is making his way over to you. His hand lays on your back, forcing you to straighten your posture. His touch roams your body as he makes small little adjustments. His touch lingers for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a silent communication. Jon, meanwhile, waits patiently, his focus shifting between you and Damian, gaze intense.

You pray that he lets go soon, because his kind-of boyfriend (the one that can split you in half, and not in a good way) is looking really hard at you both right now. Damian nods once he’s satisfied with your form, hand sliding off of you. He steps back, arms folded and ready to assess.

“We’ll start with some basic striking drills,” Damian suggests, stepping back to give you space. His demeanor is focused, precise, as he guides both you and Jon through the movements. The air in the training room fills with the rhythmic sounds of punches and kicks, each movement honed through years of practice and discipline.

Jon moves with an infectious energy, his enthusiasm palpable as he encourages you and offers pointers. Damian, ever the perfectionist, corrects your form with a sharp eye and occasional terse comments that carry more encouragement than criticism.

After what feels like hours, Damian calls for a break. You sit down onto the mat, breathing out of your nose but feeling exhilarated. Jon flops down next to you, not looking tired at all and grinning. "You’re getting faster," he remarks, wiping sweat from his brow.

"You too," you jest, giving him a friendly nudge. "Though I still think I could take you in a real fight."

Jon laughs, the sound light and infectious. "We’ll see about that."

Damian and Jon exchange a look, their expressions softening as they glance at each other and then back at you. Jon leans in closer, his voice low but playful. "Careful, [Name]. Damian might get jealous if you start favoring me over him."

Damian scoffs. “[Name] would be a fool to not recognize the superior combatant.”

“Yeah, that’s me, right?”

You smile at their banter, eyes bouncing between them. They bounce off of each other so seamlessly, effortlessly. They know each other. What’s that one saying? To be known is to be loved. Suddenly you feel suffocated.

“Well.” You get up and pull your arms up, stretching. It’s a good stretch, one that makes you groan. You feel their eyes on you. “I should go back to the Den. I really gotta start calibrating the badassium,” you pause just outside of the door, thinking, “and make more, actually.”

Damian and Jon exchange a quick glance, their banter trailing off as you mention leaving. Jon's playful demeanor softens into a more earnest expression, and Damian watches you with a hint of curiosity.

"Already?" Jon asks, sitting up slightly as if to keep you from leaving just yet.

You hesitate, feeling the weight of their attention on you. Jon's expression shifts slightly, almost as if he's disappointed by your decision to leave. Damian, ever composed, watches you with that familiar intensity, his gaze unreadable but observant.

"Yeah," you reply with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Work doesn’t get done itself, you know."

Jon looks over at Damian, who is watching you carefully. "Well, if you need any help, just let us know," Jon offers warmly, his tone genuine.

Damian nods in agreement, though his expression remains somewhat guarded. "Indeed. Our resources are at your disposal."

With a final nod and smile, you leave the room. Your hearing picks up and bickering as you walk. Back to their regularly scheduled programming that fast, huh. You shake your head, quickly making your way outside the manor. You won’t bother Alfred, so you’ll catch the subway.

“[Name]!” Or not.

Jon jogs over to you, who is just steps outside of the manor’s grounds. “Let me take you there.”

You shake your head. “Jon, it’s fine–”

Jon decides that it is not fine, apparently, because he wastes no time in scooping you up into his arms and taking off. What the hell, not even a warning?

You wrap your arms around his neck so as to not fall out of his grip (not that he’d ever let you go). “You’re in civvies–”

“No one will see.” You scoff at his assuredness. The wind whips past you, biting at your arms. Ah shit, you should’ve changed before going out. Jon notices your miniscule shiver, tightening his grip around you.

"You know, you didn't have to do this," you remark, raising your voice slightly over the wind.

Jon grins, his expression playful. "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you," he teases, his tone light but sincere.

You sigh, letting the conversation die. You arrive at the Den in record time thanks to his super speed. Jon sets you down gently, touch lingering. "There you go," he says with a smile, stepping back to let you stand on your own.

“Thank you,” you say, despite yourself. You smooth down your clothes, batting away his hand (gently and with a smile so as to not hurt his feelings) when it reaches out to help. “You should start charging for your services.”

“Nah. You’re my only customer anyway,” he hums. God, can he not do that? “Well, you and Damian.” Right. Right right right.

You chuckle softly. "I feel so special." You turn and enter the Den, Jon having moved the rocks already.

With a nod, Jon watches you for a moment longer before turning to leave. "Take care, [Name]. See you soon."

"Yeah, see you," you reply, waving as he heads back towards Wayne Manor. You stand there for a moment, watching him go wistfully before turning to your work station.

You make three more duplicates of the badassium, just for now. The first one will power your nanite chamber, which you can now start building, finally. The sound of metal bending under your hands fills the space.

“Wait, so, does that make you a Bat?” You lied, Victoria’s voice also fills the space. It had been a while since you two had talked, so you thought a facetime would be nice. She’s in a lavish lounge dress, surrounded by even more lavish decor.

“Nah, I still got my own thing going on. We just work together. Like co-workers.” You’re not sure if you’re supposed to tell her these things, but if Bruce has a problem with it he can kiss your ass. Victoria is the reason you were able to make the badassium so fast. Besides, it’s not like you’ll tell her the identities of everyone or anything.

“Well, any juicy details about your ‘co-workers’ you can share?”

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll leave the ‘figuring out their identities’ part to you, since you’re so good at that.” She gives a small innocent smile at that.

You focus back on your work, hands moving with practiced efficiency. Victoria's image on your screen watches with mild curiosity as you assemble the components of the nanite chamber.

"You've always seemed good with your hands," she remarks, a hint of admiration in her tone. "What exactly are you building now?"

"It’s like a big charger," you explain, pausing to scratch your brow. "It’s to charge my suit.”

She hums. “Still can’t believe you just casually made a new element that fast.”

"Well, you did provide most of the materials," you remind her, smiling. "Couldn't have done it without you, hun.”

Victoria chuckles, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, of course.”

You continue working on the nanite chamber, the rhythmic sound of metal being molded and fitted together creating a soothing background hum. Victoria's voice keeps you company, her questions and comments providing a pleasant distraction from the intense focus required for your task.

"So, any new developments on the romantic front?" Victoria asks, her tone teasing.

You roll your eyes, even though you can't help but smile. "Ugh, Tori.”

"Just curious," she replies, feigning innocence.

“Well sorry to disappoint,” you huff, punch a piece of metal into place. “This spider is single and not ready to mingle.”

“I’m just saying, you’re probably the only person Damian pays any attention to.”

“Well, other people outside of our school exist.”

She leans forward. “So, there’s someone else?”

You groan as she laughs. “Well, what about Robin then? The news says you guys are pretty chummy.”

You snort, because who’s gonna tell her? “No, Tori. I don’t have time for relationships, hun. I’m busy with… heroing and stuff.” You turn to face the phone. “But if anything happens, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

"Uh-huh," she replies, clearly unconvinced. "You should just go after what you want.” Oh, Tori, if only it was that simple.

The conversation continues, shifting to lighter topics as you work. Victoria updates you on the latest gossip, her voice a comforting presence as you focus on assembling the nanite chamber. The hours pass quickly, the steady rhythm of your work and Victoria's chatter creating a comfortable routine.

You take the phone, opening your messages with Victoria. “Can you get me these things? It should be simple.”

Her face gets closer to the camera as she picks up her phone to look at the list you sent her. “Of course. Same place?” You nod.

“[Name]? Is there someone here?”

You look to the side, seeing Jon standing at the entrance, rubble around his feet. Oh, what the fu–

“I thought I hear–”

You reach out a hand, motioning for him to zip it. He shuts up, thankfully, eyeing your phone.

Victoria snorts. “Who is that?”

“A dumbass,” you answer dryly. “I gotta go, Tori.” Jon’s identity is vulnerable, so she shouldn’t be around right now. Probably.

She rolls her eyes but blows a kiss. You blow one back and end the call, putting down your phone and sighing. You put a hand on your hip and turn to look at Jon. You gesture for him to speak. “Well?”

Jon’s eyes stay on your phone for a bit, before looking into yours. “What?”

“Jon, I was on a facetime. You could’ve leaked yourself or something.”

“Who was that?” he asks, stepping closer. “Does she know who you are?”

“Oh please, not you too. I would’ve thought Damian would care about that.” You step around him, looking for a wrench. “But yeah, she does. She’s the friend that helped me get all of this,” you smile, arms spreading to gesture to the whole workshop.

“She’s also the person that was kissing me when Damian walked in.” You’re not sure why exactly you said that, but the way his eyes almost blow out of his head is pretty funny.

“Oh, wait, I can tell you the whole story now! Long story short, I accidentally called her ‘Vicky’ as Spinnerette—I call her Tori now, though—so she figured out it was me because I was the only person that called her that. Rookie move, I know, but in my defense I would’ve never guessed she would be able to put together the pieces. Anyway–”

You find the wrench you’re looking for, yay, “–Fast forward a little. She confronts me about it. I thought she was gonna, like, try to blackmail me, but no. She just wants to help. Shocker, right? She grabs my wrist to check out my web-shooter bracelets, and Karen shoots out a web. Just because she felt like it. It sticks onto Tori and before I can get it off the door opens.”

You tighten a screw. “I found out Tori’s a bit of a quick thinker that day, because she quickly jumps into my arms and kisses me. Kisses me! Since, you know, the web was stuck on her and since she was on me you couldn’t see it.”

You smile once you’re satisfied with how tight the screw is. Turning back to Jon, you furrow your brow. He looks… constipated. Like he just ate something sour. He steps closer, closer and closer until you’re back up against the desk. He invades your senses with his presence, his eyes wide and searching yours.

“I thought you weren’t dating anyone?”

You blink. “I’m. Not. I told you, we agreed to be better off as friends.”

Jon furrows his brows. "But she kissed you? And you guys facetime?”

You narrow your eyes. “She kissed me once, and then we agreed to be friends. Only. And friends facetime.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening as he processes your words. Then, it seems like he remembers himself. "Right, sorry. I just... misunderstood."

“Are you okay, Jon?” Did he and Damian get in a fight or something?

Jon's expression softens, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…” He bites his lip, gaze meeting yours for a second before turning away. “I don’t know. Thinking too much, I guess.”

You nod, not having anything to say. “Well, what did you come here for?” You hope he’ll appreciate the subject change.

He scratches his neck. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to…” he glances at your phone, “...bother you I guess.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here. Just, call ahead, or something,” you chuckle, turning back to the nanite chamber.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, I don’t wanna bother you anymore. So. Bye.” And then he’s off. Wow, one moment he’s here and one moment he’s not. You shrug, deciding that for your own peace of mind you won’t dwell on the interaction.

Jon Kent has control over his emotions. He has to, given the power he has. However, the teenage experience might just kill him.

He’s never felt quite like this before. He can feel his hormones all over the place. And it doesn’t feel nice. Whatever Jon feels is amplified by ten. Jon flies back to the Manor, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He lands softly on the grounds, his thoughts still tangled with the image of you… kissing her.

He wishes you kissed him.

Damian looks up, noticing Jon's arrival. "Took you long enough," he remarks, his voice steady and cool.

Jon doesn't respond immediately, his thoughts still swirling. “Did you know?” he asks.

Damian doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because why would he? He tilts his head and Jon elaborates, “About… Tori?”

Damian pauses, thinking. “Victoria?”

“She’s who you… walked in on. With [Name].”

Jon watches as Damian’s eyes narrow before he scoffs. “Yes, I remember. What about her?”

Jon comes to sit next to Damian, seeking out his comfort. “She’s, well. Apparently she knows that [Name] is Spinnerette.” Damian’s brows furrow. “She’s the one who helped get them all their materials and stuff. They were facetiming when I went over there and…”

Damian’s eyes darken, but he says nothing, letting Jon continue.

Jon sighs, leaning back. “It just threw me off, I guess. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

Damian's expression remains unreadable for a moment before he speaks again. "Did [Name] say anything else about her?"

Jon shakes his head. "Not really. Just that they're friends and that she's been helpful."

Damian nods, his gaze distant as he considers this new piece of information. "I see."

Jon sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he tries to sort out his thoughts. "It's just... weird, you know? I didn't expect [Name] to have someone like that in their life."

Damian raises an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Jon shrugs, his frustration evident. "I guess I just thought I knew them better."

Damian studies Jon for a moment before speaking. "People have layers, Jon. We can't expect to know everything about them, no matter how close we are." Damian would know..

Jon huffs, still not entirely satisfied with that answer. "Yeah, I know. It's just... I don't know. Maybe I'm…” he purses his lips, half-amused with himself, “...jealous.”

Damian's eyes narrow slightly, but he keeps his tone measured. "Jealousy is a useless emotion, Jon. It clouds judgment and makes you act irrationally."

Jon shoots Damian a wry smile. "Yeah, I know. You've mentioned that before."

Damian nods, his expression softening marginally. "Just focus on what matters.”

Jon nods slowly, taking in Damian's advice. Silence settles between them for a moment before Damian speaks again, his voice quieter. "If you need to talk... about anything, Jon, I'm here."

Jon smiles at him, eyes flicking to his lips before returning to Damian’s. Damian meets Jon's gaze steadily, his expression unreadable but his intent clear. Jon's heart skips a beat, the intensity of Damian's presence washing over him. There's something unspoken between them, a bond that goes beyond words. Jon swallows, trying to find the right words, but Damian speaks first.

"Come, let's head inside," Damian says, standing up and gesturing towards the manor. Jon follows silently, still grappling with his thoughts.

Jon takes a deep breath, finally breaking the silence. "Damian, I..." He pauses, trying to find the right words. "I don't know what I'm feeling. It's just... confusing."

Damian says nothing, but Jon has known him long enough that Damian isn’t condemning him or anything. He’s chosen to stand with him, wholeheartedly. Jon grasps Damian’s arm as he leads him deeper inside the manor.

Damian Wayne and Jon Kent kissed on New Years, right as the clock turned midnight. Jon Kent really hopes he can kiss you too.

notes:

reader to jon: you’re the most jealous guy i know

jon: you know other guys

jon, hearing reader talking to somebody and immediately booking it to the den: im not jealous how preposterous

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

221 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 1 month ago

Text

The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

90 notes · View notes

willalove75 · 3 months ago

Note

hello hello!! I hope you’re doing well and also super congrats on your baby 🎉🎉

Was wondering if you could possibly write more about domestic Alcina based on that one fic you wrote? Maybe something along the lines of a romantic night in together when it’s stormy outside. I’m a sucker for how you wrote her in a domestic and modern setting and I’d love to see more if you wouldn’t mind ^^’

no worries at all if you don’t take this request!! I just super love your writing for Alcina Dimitrescu and it makes me super happy to read your work when I can 🩵🩵

Hiii! Thank you so much! Baby and I are doing great! He’s the best thing in the whole world, I love him so much🥺😭💕

Thank you so much for the request! An idea for this popped into my head immediately when I read this ask and I’ve been super excited to write it since!! I’m so glad you liked my domestic!Alcina so much! She’s so much fun to write in different settings but a modern Alcina always has me in some kind of a chokehold😂

I hope you enjoy!!

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, teensie bit of degradation kink and mommy kink, and more fluff.

A/N: ITS FINALLY DONE😭 I proof read this once so please ignore any errors or whatever. Or let me know and maybe I'll fix them (wishful thinking lmao) also soft!Alcina is baby.

Rain pelts against the back door while lightning fills the sky with flashes of white. The boom of the thunder makes the house shake. You find yourself curled up on the couch, staring out into the inky, rainy night as you pout. Usually, you’re not one to pout, but tonight, you make an exception. Justifying your sour attitude by telling yourself if anyone else was in your situation, they would be pouting too.

Today is your anniversary with Alcina, a day you were immensely looking forward to. The two of you have been together for a few years now, and every year Alcina would take the reins and plan what the two of you would do on your anniversary. Extravagant vacations, expensive jewelry, on your one year anniversary she even got you a brand new car meanwhile there was nothing wrong with the one you were driving. Alcina spared no expense and always went above and beyond.

This year, however, you begged her to let you plan the day. She could still arrange whatever ridiculous plans she could come up with; because a three year anniversary normally doesn’t call for a two week stay in a luxury resort on a tropical island, but for Alcina, it wasn’t something she thought twice about before booking.

After softening her up with some good sex and puppy dog eyes, Alcina rolled her blue-gray eyes while a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips as she relented.

“Fine, draga. You may plan what we do the day of our anniversary. However, I still fully intend to book the European getaway I’ve been eyeing for you.” You look up into her eyes as you lay on top of her, resting your chin on your arms folded over her chest, a wide smile gracing your features. Before you can speak she holds up her finger to stop you. “Only on one condition.”

Arching your brow at her, you ask “what condition?”

“In the condition that I finance whatever it is you are planning.” You go to argue and she cuts you off again. “Absolutely not, I will not have you spend your hard earned money on our anniversary. You may plan whatever you like, but you’re using my credit card.”

You roll your eyes at her and groan in disapproval. Before you can register her movements, Alcina’s large hand lands a firm smack on your ass. A yelp escapes your lips; your ass is already red, raw and sore from the night's earlier activities.

“Don’t make me spank that attitude out of you my darling. You know I won’t show you mercy.”

Rolling off of Alcina and onto your back, you cup your ass as you let out a whine.

“God damnit!”

Alcina smirks and before you can recover from the sting, you feel her weight settle on top of you.

“So, have we fixed that attitude? Or is a punishment in order?”

“Nooo.” You whine. “Fine, I’ll use your card.”

“Good girl.” Alcina says as she trails her lips and nose up and down the side of your neck, her skin just barely brushing against yours.

After the multiple rounds the two of you just went, you were convinced that you were tapped out for the night. However, in typical Alcina fashion, she knows exactly what to do to elicit a response from your body. As she places feather-light kisses up your neck, her hands slide up from your hips to the dip of your waist. Her hands travel higher until her fingertips are skimming the sides of your breasts. Even with the weight of her breasts on top of yours, you can still feel the sensation of your nipples hardening against her skin.

A familiar wetness forms between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight as Alcina presses her thigh against your cunt. She smirks at how easily she’s able to arouse you. Sitting up, Alcina hooks one of your legs over her hip and rocks into you, grinding her cunt against yours.

“Mmm, I love how wet I can make you with just a few light touches. My sweet, sensitive girl.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a filthy moan as she picks up the pace. Before you know it, the two of you are rutting against each other, crying out each other's names as you chase your highs together.

The closer your anniversary got, the more excited you were for what you had planned. From morning until night, you had the whole day planned out. For breakfast, you were going to take her to her favorite cafe for coffee and pastries. After breakfast, the plan was to walk to her favorite art museum, which conveniently happened to be only a couple of blocks from the cafe. Knowing Alcina, even though she’s been there hundreds of times, the two of you would be wandering around the museum for hours. Especially since a new exhibit was supposed to open up a couple of weeks before your anniversary. It would be lunchtime by the time you were done at the museum, so you planned to have a picnic set up in the park in her favorite, secluded spot. You spared no expense on buying all of her favorite meats, cheeses, crackers, spreads, and of course, a couple of bottles of her favorite wine: Sanguis Virgnins. After lunch, you planned to walk around the park a bit and then before sunset, head to the beach for a sunset walk along the water. For dinner, you made a reservation at her favorite restaurant that overlooks the ocean. To conclude the evening, you planned to have rose petals scattered across the floor and candles lit around the house to set the mood for a passionate, romantic end to your anniversary.

Everything was set and perfect, now you only had to wait for the day. For days you were on the edge of your seat with excitement, hoping Alcina would love what you’ve curated for the two of you. It wasn’t until yesterday did things go south. A storm warning lit up your phone screen as you and Alcina were having dinner. The storm was supposed to veer off into the ocean and bypass you completely, but as if god himself wanted to shit all over your perfectly planned day, the storm came straight up the coast and landed practically at your front door.

Alcina knew how excited you were to surprise her with the perfect day so she insisted on doing as much as you possibly could. So on the morning of your anniversary, the two of you headed over to the cafe. Even though you were only outside just to get in and out of the car, by the time you finished breakfast and made it to the museum, the two of you were soaked to the bone. To make matters worse, the museum had the air conditioning on full blast, which caused the both of you to shiver as you tried to enjoy the artwork. You weren’t even in the museum for half an hour before you decided to cut your losses and head home.

So here you are, sitting on the couch staring out into the storm and pouting. After you got home, Alcina went to shower. She invited you in but you were too down and didn’t want to bring her mood down also, so you declined her offer and changed into comfy sweats and made your way downstairs to the living room.

“Draga?” Alcina’s voice pulls your focus away from the dark, dreary outdoors.

“Hm?”

“My darling, don’t look so upset.” She says as she makes her way over to you.

“I can’t help it, I am upset! I had the perfect day planned and it got completely shat on.”

Alcina comes to a stop in front of you and lifts your chin to look up at her. When you’re standing you have to crane your neck to look up at her, but when you’re sitting? You basically have to bend your head as far back as it can go.

With her other hand, she cards her fingers through your still-damp hair, gently scratching at your scalp.

“I’m sorry your plans got rained out, draga. But we still have plenty of time to turn this dreary day around.”

You place your hands on her hips, that are practically eye-level with you, and smooth your thumbs over the silk of her robe. “I guess.”

“Besides,” she says as the hand in your hair slides to the back of your head where she slowly grabs your hair by the root, just the way you like it. “You weren’t the only one who planned something for today. And luckily, the inclement weather has no effect on what I have planned for you tonight.”

She gently pulls you up by your hair as she leans down and brushes her lips against yours. “So, what do you say, iubirea mea? Come, show me what you have here.”

Alcina pulls away before you can lean in to kiss her and she grabs your hand, leading you into the kitchen where the spread that was supposed to be for your picnic is laid out on the island.

Picking up a few items and inspecting them, Alcina raises an eyebrow and smirks at you when she recognizes all of her favorite, super fancy meats and cheeses.

“This is quite an impressive spread you have here, draga.”

You pick up a jar of caviar and turn it over in your hands as you speak. “Yeah, this was supposed to be our lunch, which was supposed to be in our favorite spot in the park.”

Alcina’s eyes soften at your words, touched at the thought and little details you put into your plans.

“Well, even though it’s past lunchtime, it would be a shame to let all of this go to waste, don’t you think?” She says, trying to bait you, but you can be just as stubborn as she is. So you just shrug your shoulders, mumbling an “I guess” in response.

She walks around the island and takes the jar of caviar out of your hands. Knowing how much you love her hands, she makes a show of popping the jar open and dipping a tiny spoon into it. When that doesn’t work, she offers you the spoon, knowing damn well you hate caviar. You take one whiff and you scrunch your nose and pull away.

“Oh stop, it doesn’t even have a smell.” She says before popping the spoon in her mouth and slowly closes her lips around it. Always one for theatrics, she slowly pulls the spoon from between her lips and rolls her eyes back and moans in pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”

When her gray eyes open and meet yours, you can’t help but shake your head and let out a small chuckle at her antics. She leans in to kiss you and you pull back, avoiding her lips.

“Nuh-uh. I am not kissing you when you most certainly taste like fish.”

Alcina rolls her eyes for real this time and sets the jar and spoon down on the counter. To your surprise, she grabs the ball of mozzarella with her hands and pulls a chunk of it off. Splitting the piece in two, she leans her head back and drops the cheese into her mouth. After a couple of chews, since she is never one to speak with food in her mouth, she swallows it and arches her perfectly manicured brow at you.

“Better?” She says, flatly.

You can’t help but smile at her and nod your head. She leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Open.” She says once you part, still holding the other piece of mozzarella in her hand.

Opening your mouth wide, she drops the piece of cheese onto your tongue and you happily chew it. This time it's your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and let out a moan - only it’s genuine, you’re not trying to put on a show like Alcina was earlier.

When you open your eyes, you open them to Alcina sticking her finger into her mouth, cleaning off the remnants of the cheese. Your mouth goes dry and your pupils dilate as you watch her. She always knows how to get you going and offers you her other finger to clean, and because you’re a total slut for this woman, you part your lips on command and take her finger into your mouth.

You caress her finger with your tongue a few times before Alcina presses down on it, pinning it in place. Her lips part and her eyes dilate as she looks down at you with her finger in your mouth and she slowly thrusts her finger back and forth across your tongue. With each thrust her finger goes a little deeper and deeper and you whimper around it. After one final thrust that goes deeper than all of the other ones, nearly making you gag, she pulls her finger from your mouth and captures your lips in a kiss. Cupping your face in her large hands, Alcina flicks her tongue into your mouth, once, twice, and as you lean in for a third swipe, she abruptly pulls away.

An actual whine leaves your lips before you can stop yourself and Alcina chuckles, brushing her nose against yours. She pulls away and makes her way back around the island, putting a small plate of food together.

Looking up at you, feigning innocence, she cocks her head to the side and asks “aren’t you going to eat?”

You let out a groan, now that you’re almost uncomfortably wet, you rub your thighs together and make your way next to her. Alcina smirks, knowing just how turned on you are. Her little plan to distract you is slowly coming to fruition.

Some time passes by and you end up sitting on the counter while you and Alcina feed each other different meats and cheeses and refill each other's wine glasses well before they need refilling. She spreads your favorite fig jam on a cracker and puts it between her teeth, offering you the other half. With a giggle, you bite into the other half. As you’re each chewing your piece, in an uncharacteristic move, no doubt fueled by the copious amounts of wine you’ve both had, Alcina presses her lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh as she kisses you while you both have crackers and jam in your mouths and you feel Alcina smile into the kiss. She places both hands on either side of you on the counter, caging you in and continues to kiss all over your face, jaw and neck. In a fit of laughter, you try to lean back but she wraps her arms around you and pulls you to the edge, her hips slotting perfectly between your legs.

By the time her kisses come to a stop, the two of you are giggling like teenagers and you wrap your arms around her neck as you nuzzle into each other. When you pull back, you still have smiles plastered across your faces and you see the sparkle in Alcina’s eyes. When you’re this close to her, you can really see the crows feet in the corners of her eyes and the delicate smile lines that line her perfectly plump lips.

Your heart stutters in your chest at the way she looks at you so lovingly. It still amazes you that you were able to melt the heart of the self-proclaimed Ice Queen. There was a time where you weren’t sure if you were ever going to get past the layers and layers of walls she had built up over the years before you met. It took time and patience, but she slowly let her walls come down brick by brick. There were a few times where you thought you were never going to see the real her and you debated on ending the relationship. Alcina always seemed to know when you were reaching that breaking point and even though it was hard and wildly uncomfortable, she tore down a few more walls and let you further in. She showed you the scared girl underneath that cold exterior. The girl that was terrified of having her heart broken again, each time you saw past another wall you melted for her.

There was one time where you were literally walking out the door after an argument over her keeping you at arms length. The only thing that stopped you was the way her voice cracked when she called after you. When you turned around you saw her lips trembling and tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. That night she broke through the rest of her walls and let you completely in. She told you things she’s never told anyone else before. Told you about her childhood, her tumultuous relationship with her family, how they tried to marry her off just to get rid of her. She poured her heart out to you and you knew then and there that no matter what else happened, you were going to be the one that protected her fragile heart from then on.

“What?” Alcina asks as she stares back into your eyes.

“Nothing.” You say as you shake your head. “I just love you so much, Alcina.”

“Și eu te iubesc atât de mult, draga mea.”

(I love you so much too, my darling)

Alcina takes your wine glass from your hand and sets it down next to hers on the counter. Before you can protest she silences you with a kiss. It starts out soft and slow, but before you know it your kisses become more passionate, more frenzied. Her hands slide from your hips to underneath your ass and you grab the hair at the back of her head with one hand and hook your other arm around her neck.

In one swift movement, Alcina lifts you off of the counter and you squeal into her lips. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you up the stairs as if you weigh nothing, and heads into the bedroom. Often times when the two of you get to this stage, since it’s not the first time she’s carried you into the bedroom, Alcina will unceremoniously toss you onto the bed and either pounce on you, or torture you by making you wait. As you brace yourself to be tossed, you’re surprised when her grip on you tightens and she gently lays you down, allowing some, but not all, of her weight to rest on top of you.

Alcina looks at you in the most tender way. Her eyes take in every detail of your face and you can’t help but do the same, admiring her naturally long eyelashes, the blues and grays that swirl in her irises, and her lipstick-free lips that look all too kissable. She brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face before cupping your cheek and capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss. The kiss intensifies when you feel her lick against your lips and you eagerly let her in. More of her weight settles on top of you when you pull her closer, her hips slotted perfectly between your legs. As you’re reveling in the feeling of her on top of you, Alcina takes you by surprise by taking your bottom lip between her lips and sucking on it, drawing out a moan from your lips. She nips at it before letting it go and dives in for a hungrier kiss. You can’t help but roll your hips into her as she claims your mouth, and she groans into the kiss, rolling her hips into you in response. If she was wearing her strap right now she’d be buried to the hilt and the thought sends a shiver down your spine.

Chuckling at feeling you shiver, she rolls her hips into you again and again, a little harder each time. You desperately try to grind into her but there just isn’t enough friction at this angle and you let out a pitiful whine before you can stop yourself. Alcina smiles into the kiss and slows down before pulling away. She rubs her thumb across your eyebrows, softening the furrow that developed between them once she stopped kissing you.

“Do you want your present now, sweet girl?” She asks as her fingers dance across your skin.

“Mhm.” You hum, nodding at her with a smile.

“As you wish. There are just a few things that need to be done before you get your present.”

“Like what?”

“Well, first things first, this,” she says, tugging at your sweatshirt. “Needs to go.”

Alcina sits back on her heels, giving you space to sit up. Her hands slide under your sweatshirt, letting out a purr when she feels bare skin underneath her fingertips.

“Nothing underneath? Today must be my lucky day.” She teases.

She helps you pull your sweatshirt up, her hands stopping at the sides of your ribs. You pull it over your head and toss it onto the floor. She guides you to lay back down, each of her hands palming a breast as you fall back into the mattress. Cold fingers send a chill down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and your nipples to harden at the touch. Alcina gropes and massages them before squeezing one and dragging her tongue across a hardened peak. A gasp of surprise escapes from your lips and you hum and roll your hips as she mirrors the action on the other side.

Alcina peppers your chest with kisses and small bites, soothing over each sting with her tongue. Once she is satisfied with the marks she left, her fingers hook into the waistline of your sweatpants.

“Next, these need to go as well. May I?”

Your hips roll at the question and you nod your head, not wanting to let her hear the desperation in your voice.

Alcina lets out a tsk.

“Use your words.” She reprimands.

“Yes, god, take them off!”

“Good girl.” She says with a chuckle and she begins to pull your sweatpants down your legs.

Her eyes glow with lust as she pulls them off, realizing you’re bare underneath those as well.

“And no panties either?” She hums. “You spoil me, draga.”

Your sweatpants are cast away, landing somewhere on the bedroom floor and immediately forgotten about. Alcina takes a moment to admire you sprawled out, naked on the bed before her. A faint flush develops on your cheeks and across your chest as her eyes roam over every inch of your body.

“Doamne, ești uluitor.” She whispers to herself.

(“God, you are breathtaking.”)

Even though you’re not sure exactly what it was that she said, you feel your flush deepen and you instinctively cover your face with your hands, a sudden bout of shyness overtaking you.

“No, no, don’t hide.” You can hear the smile in her voice as she takes your hands and pulls them from your face, holding them at your sides but not restraining you. “Let me see you, draga.”

You open your eyes to see her gray-blue eyes staring back at you and you can’t help but smile up at her.

“You are so beautiful, my love.” Alcina says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

The kiss doesn’t last long before Alcina pulls away and sits back up. Her hands slide down the hourglass of your waist and down your thighs, coming to a rest at your knees.

“Now, there’s one last thing that needs to happen before you get your present, my sweet girl.”

“What?”

Alcina spreads your legs apart, opening you up wide for her.

“I need you absolutely soaked for what I have planned next.” She says as she drags the back of her knuckles up your already dripping slit, just barely nudging your clit. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You pant. Her thumb brushes over your clit a few times before slowly circling it. “Fuck, yes, I can.” You moan.

“That’s my good girl.” Alcina says before settling herself between your legs.

She teases your clit with her fingers for a few more seconds and just before you become too impatient, she holds you by the back of your knees, spreads your legs wide, and licks a broad strip up your cunt, flicking your clit with her tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a guttural moan as she repeats the motion over and over again. Just as your legs begin to tremble, Alcina pulls away and removes one hand from your leg. Looking up at her, you see her lips, nose and chin glistening with your arousal and she sucks two of her fingers into her mouth, her eyes never once leaving yours. Heat pools in your belly when she releases her fingers with a pop and they disappear below her. Without taking her eyes off of you, she effortlessly slips them into you. You’re the one who breaks eye contact when she pushes them deep into your pussy and curls them into that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

With your eyes rolling into the back of your head, Alcina nips and licks the inside of your thigh as she gently massages that sweet spot inside. It’s enough to have you moaning her name, but not quite enough to get you where you so desperately want her to take you to. Alcina senses your growing frustration and gently laps at your clit, adding even more pleasure to your body. You don’t feel yourself getting close until she takes the hardened nub between her lips and sucks at it, occasionally flicking her tongue over it. At the first spark of arousal that shoots up your spine, you cry out as your hands grab at Alcina’s head, burying your fingers into her hair.

Just as you’re about to get to the edge, Alcina pulls her fingers out and releases your clit from between her lips. A pathetic whimper leaves your lips and you look down at her in disbelief.

“What-”

“Patience, draga, you can’t come yet.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because I said so. Now be a good girl and spread your legs wide. You can take more of me, can’t you, draga?”

“Yes, fuck, please. Fill me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, draga.” She says with a dark chuckle.

Before you can react, Alcina slides three fingers into your cunt and sets a near brutal pace. You collapse back onto the bed with a cry as she fucks you harder and harder. Your legs tremble around her and just as you’re about to reach your peak again, she slows down, taking your impending orgasm with her.

“Fuck!” You cry. “Why?!”

“I already told you, I’m just getting you ready for what’s to come, my love. Patience.”

She thrusts her fingers in and out of you, keeping you right on the precipice of bliss until she’s satisfied with how drenched and stretched out you are.

After edging you once more, Alcina pulls away all together and sits back up.

“I think you’re ready for your present now, don’t you think?”

“God yes, please!”

“Is my sweet girl's tight cunt all wet and stretched out for me?” She teases as she hovers over you.

“Yes, fuck.” You breathe.

Alcina places a soft kiss on your lips and moves off of the bed and towards the walk-in closet.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

You wait, impatiently, for Alcina to return and when she does, she’s holding a double ended strap-on dildo in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other and a towel slung over her shoulder. The dildo is purple and quite large, both in length and girth; it’s easily one of the biggest toys you own. Now you get why Alcina needed you so stretched and wet.

She sees the excitement in your eyes as she makes her way towards the bed and lets out a low chuckle.

“Are you excited about your present, draga?”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, all you can do is mumble “mhm” and nod your head; your eyes never straying from the toy in her hand. Your legs unconsciously open wider for her as she approaches.

Alcina kneels in front of you on the bed and guides you to lay back down before popping open the lube. She coats her end in the lube and makes a show of using two fingers to spread her lips wide. You can already see how wet she is and that her clit is enlarged and puffy. It takes all of your self control to stay where you are and not pounce on her and bury your tongue inside of her. Noticing the look in your eyes, Alcina teases you by slowly rubbing the toy between her lips, letting out tiny gasps as she nudges her clit with the tip. Just as you feel yourself begin to clench around nothing, Alcina slides the toy into her cunt and throws her head back, letting out a satisfied moan.

When she looks back down at you, her irises are all but swallowed by her dilated pupils. Wordlessly, she pops open the lube cap again and this time coats your end in it. You think she’s going to wipe the excess off on the towel but instead, she cups your soaked pussy and spreads the remaining lube all over you. She takes you by surprise when she shoves three fingers deep into you again, making you cry out in pleasure. After a few twists and thrusts, she pulls them out and begins stroking the cock jutting out from between her legs.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?”

“Yes, fuck, please. I need it.”

Alcina lets out a chuckle. “We haven’t even started and you’re already begging for my cock? Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You whine.

She takes a moment to admire how turned on and eager you are, her eyes focused on your throbbing pussy and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at you, so wet and clenching around nothing already. Since you’re so desperate, you’re going to be a good girl and take mommy’s whole cock. That’s fine with you, isn’t it, draga?”

“Yes! Please, please give it to me. I’ve been so good.” You let out a whine as Alcina rubs the head of the purple strap up and down your drenched slit, just barely brushing over your clit.

“You have been a good girl for me tonight, so I won’t tease you too badly. Let me get you a little more stretched before I fuck you into the mattress. Is that alright, sweet girl?” She asks as she slowly pushes the head between your lips and past the first ring of muscle. It's deep enough for you to clench around, but not enough to get any pleasure from, just the sensation of the head stretching you out.

You whine and try to rock your hips to get her deeper, but Alcina grabs your legs underneath your knees and spreads you wide, holding you in place.

“You’ve been such a good girl this far, don’t make me punish you this early.”

All you can do is whine in response and try to not squirm on the bed. Finally, Alcina decides to stop teasing you and without warning, sinks the entire length of the strap into you and you let out a strangled cry.

“Fuck, I stretched you out so nicely and you’re still so tight.” She says as her eyes flutter from the pleasure she’s receiving from her end of the strap.

Alcina pulls out and thrusts back into you again, she does this a few more times before she begins to lose her composure and she pushes your knees so far backwards they’re practically at your ears. At this angle, with you so spread, Alcina is able to pull out and fuck you deeper and harder as she sets a pace that causes you to cry out with each thrust.

“Good girl.” She purrs. “Look at you, taking my cock so perfectly. God, I love all of the little noises you make when I fuck you.”

Just as you feel like your orgasm is about to build, Alcina switches her pace and bottoms you out, with her hips flush against you and begins to grind the cock deep into your pussy. A surprised gasp escapes your lips and you whimper each time she grinds into you.

“Oh fuck! Alcina!”

“I know baby, it feels so good doesn’t it? That’s it, keep taking it.”

Outside, the storm begins to pick up. The room is occasionally lit up by the lightning cracking across the sky and the thunder continues to shake the house. But with Alcina being buried so deep inside of you, neither of you give it any attention.

The room is filled with the sounds of both of your moans and cries and the sound of her hips slamming into you over and over again. Alcina lets go of your legs and you wrap them around her, keeping her close. Your arms wrap around her neck and you pull her down into a sloppy kiss of clashing teeth, tongues and noses. She bites down on your lower lip, nearly breaking the skin and you rake your nails down her back as she rails into you over and over again. She cries out from the mixture of pleasure and pain from your nails. One of her hands wraps around your neck, just the way you like it, and she adds a slight amount of pressure to the sides.

“You take my big cock so well. Look at you, such a perfect little fuck toy for mommy, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck.” You whine as your eyes roll back.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me, I can’t wait to make you explode.” She says with what sounds like renewed determination as she switches her strokes to long, hard ones.

The new pattern causes you to arch your back into her, letting out a guttural moan. Her relentless pounding causes your orgasm to build once more, this time much more quickly. As Alcina feels you begin to clench harder and tense around her, she lets out a dark chuckle.

“You’re so close already, I can feel how hard you’re clenching. You want to come so badly, don’t you, my sweet girl?” All you’re able to muster is a whimper and a slight head nod. “Tell me, tell me how badly you want to come.”

“So fucking bad. Please, please don’t fucking stop.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m nowhere near done with you, draga. Especially not before you give me what I want.”

Knowing what she means, you let out a whine and tightly grasp at the hair on the back of her head. Alcina reaches between your bodies and her thrusts falter for just a moment. Before you can even complain, the cock begins to vibrate inside of you and you cry out for her.

“That’s it, draga, that’s it. Don’t fight it, give it to me my love.” She says in an unexpectedly soft tone, especially given how hard she’s fucking you; but you’re too far gone to really notice.

After a few hard thrusts you’re right on the edge and you can hear how wet you are each time she slams into you.

“Fuck, Alci, fuck, please, please, make me, I’m gonna-”

Before you can finish your ramblings, your orgasm hits you like a bus. Your back arches off of the bed and your eyes roll to the back of your head. A scream rips through your vocal cords as the intense pleasure takes over your body. As Alcina fucks you through it, you feel a rush of liquid between the two of you. Your orgasm gets splattered across your thighs and lower stomach as Alcina’s thrusts continue until your body collapses back onto the bed. She slows her pace and comes to a stop, the strap still nestled deep inside of you as you clench around it while your body trembles from the intensity of your orgasm.

Alcina buries her face into your neck and you feel her panting against you as she catches her breath. When you finally come back into your body, because you’re pretty fucking sure you soul was separated from you for a few minutes, you run your fingers through Alcina’s hair and hold her close.

“Holy shit.” You pant. “That was crazy.”

“That was so fucking hot.” Alcina mumbles into your neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you squirt that much before, we’re fucking drenched.”

You let out a breathy chuckle and Alcina presses a kiss into your skin. She sits up and slowly pulls out of you and you whine from the loss.

“Oh hush, don’t think I’m done with you just yet.” She says with a devious smile. “I still have to come.”

“How you didn’t during that is actually insane.”

“I came close a few times, but that’s not how I want you when I do. And as you well know, I usually get what I want.”

You can’t help but laugh at her arrogance. Does she usually get what she wants? Of course she does. But you have her wrapped so tightly around your finger that more often than not, you get what you want too.

“Oh? Then how do you want me?”

“Ready for more already?” She asks with an arched brow.

“I will be, I just need a minute.”

Alcina leans down and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues dance around each other as your hands wander across your bodies. After a couple of minutes, Alcina pulls away and has you flip onto your stomach. She begins to pull your hips up and you get up onto all fours. Before you can get comfortable, you feel Alcina’s strong grip on the back of your head as she pushes you down onto the pillows, face down, ass up.

“Just like that.” She says as she holds your head down and spreads your legs wider.

Even though you’re drenched, Alcina still pops open the lube and coats the toy in it again. Both of you agree, there’s never such a thing as too much lube. Plus, the last thing she wants is to subject you to any kind of friction burn. The two of you have been down that road before and even though it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it definitely put a damper on the night and kept you out of commission for a couple of days.

She rubs the toy against you a couple of times before slipping it back in. A few slow, long, deep thrusts have you mewling beneath her and you hear her smirk with pride at how easily she can unravel you.

“For my final gift to you tonight,” She says as she keeps her thrusts steady. “You can come as many times as you want.” You let out a satisfied moan that turns into a cry as she thrusts hard into you. “Don’t get too excited, there is a catch.” She says as she returns to her slower pace. “You can come as many times as you want, but I won’t stop until I come. Alright?”

You know if you used your safe word she would stop in an instant. As torturous as the orgasms she forces upon you can be, they’re also other-worldly and there’s definitely a part of you that never wants them to stop, even if you’re a trembling, overstimulated mess.

Eager for her to start, you whine a “mhm” and nod your head. A sharp smack lands on your ass and you yelp both from the surprise and the sting.

“Use your words. Do you understand me?” She says as her tone darkens and the grip on your hair tightens to the point of almost being painful.

“Yes! I can come over and over again and you won’t stop until you come.”

Another sharp slap meets your ass and Alcina immediately soothes it by running her hand over the mark that is definitely starting to develop.

“Good girl. Now be a good little slut and take my cock like the perfect little toy you are.”

Alcina immediately sets a brutal pace, slamming her hips into your ass over and over again. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t have been able to keep the moans and whimpers from slipping through your lips. The grunts coming from behind you as Alcina fucks you spurs you on and you rock back into each thrust, causing her to let out a groan.

“Fuck, good girl.” She says, smacking your ass again. “I love your cunt, taking my cock so perfectly.”

The first orgasm hits you hard and you cry out as you tremble underneath her. It came faster than you were expecting but you’re too blissed out to care that this will inevitably be the first of many orgasms in this position.

Alcina’s pace doesn’t falter or slow down as you come and you whine from the slight overstimulation.

“I told you, draga, I’m not stopping until I come.” She says between pants.

The next two orgasms come one right after the other and you cry out while you shake underneath her. Alcina tightens the grip on your hair and pushes you harder into the mattress while she digs her fingers so hard into your hip there’s no way there won’t be small bruises there later tonight.

You lost count of how many times she made you come by the time you feel yourself losing steam. Her thrusts begin to falter just a bit, signaling she’s getting close. Cracking open one of your eyes, you see Alcina in your peripheral. Her eyes are screwed shut and her lip is caught between her bottom teeth. She tries to keep quiet but you can still hear the small moans and whimpers that escape from her as she gets closer to her release.

With a renewed determination, you slam your hips back into each of her thrusts and she lets out a groan of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, draga, good girl. God, yes!” She says as she throws her head back.

Alcina stops holding back her moans and her thrusts start to lose their rhythm, her low moans and whimpers get higher and higher the closer she gets to her release.

After one high-pitched moan, you can feel the hand in your hair begin to tremble and she releases her grip. Alcina falls forward until there isn’t an inch of room between your bodies, catching herself on her hands that landed on either side of you. She buries her face into your neck and sinks the strap deep into you before grinding down. The closer she gets, the sweeter her moans are when she cries into your skin. With her forehead resting against your cheek, you sink your fingers into her tousled hair, holding her against you.

“Baby, I - I’m gonna -” she whimpers softly into you. “Oh, oh! Oh fuck!”

Her body trembles on top of you and as she fucks herself through her orgasm crying out your name. You hit your peak once more and try to grind back into her as much as you can with her laying on top of you. Your bodies tremble in overstimulation as you both slow down, loud moans and cries softening into quiet whimpers and panting breaths.

The two of you lay there for a couple of minutes as you catch your breaths and come down from your highs.

“I just need a moment and then I’ll get off of you. I’m sorry, I must be crushing you.” She says softly. You can hear the vulnerability in her voice that she lets through only when she’s with you in the privacy of your bedroom.

For someone who is so strong and confident in herself and her body, Alcina also holds many insecurities about her size. She’s learned to accept and embrace the space she takes up, but in quieter moments, she’s opened up about how there are days she hates feeling like a giant. Especially when you’re so small compared to her, with nearly a foot in height difference between the two of you, she often worries about putting all of her weight on you, or afraid she’s going to do something that will hurt you.

She moves to get up and the hold you have on her hair tightens, keeping her against you.

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I like the feeling of your weight on me. It makes me feel safe.” You quietly admit.

“Are you just saying that?”

“Nuh-uh.” You hum. “I promise. I always feel so well protected by you, but when you’re on top of me like this, I feel like nothing in the world can hurt me.” You say as you do your best to nuzzle into her.

It takes a few moments of an inner battle inside of Alcina before you feel her relax, the rest of her weight settling on top of you. After a quick wiggle to adjust so you can breathe, you let out a content sigh and you scratch at your scalp. Alcina snakes her hands underneath you and holds you tight.

You feel something wet on your shoulder just as you hear Alcina sniffle above you.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is thick and you try to turn your head towards her as much as you can.

Alcina shakes her head and takes a quivering breath in.

“I’m alright.”

“Baby why are you crying?” This time you try to turn your body a little to get a better look at her but she keeps you pinned in place.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“For what, honey?”

“For loving me. All of me. You have no idea how much I treasure you.”

“Can I look at you?” You ask.

Alcina nods her head and slowly pushes herself off of you before sliding out the toy still buried in you. As you roll over, Alcina removes her end of the you and tosses it onto the towel at the end of the bed. Stretching your arms out towards her, Alcina crawls into them and you place a kiss at the top of her head, holding her tight.

She sniffles again and you pull back from her and place your knuckles under her chin, raising her gaze to look up at you, as she’s done to you countless times.

“I love you so much. Every inch of you. Every part of you, even the parts you don’t like about yourself, I love them and I always will.”

Looking into her gorgeous eyes, she looks up at you innocently. Alcina may be a lot of woman, but in moments like this you see the young girl she keeps buried inside of her. With all six foot three of her curled into you, you can’t help but cuddle her like she’s your size.

Alcina slides her hand into your hair and pulls you into a deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made up for when words failed. The kind that conveyed so much love it made your heart nearly burst.

When your lips part you wipe the trail her tears left behind and she lets out a huff before sitting up and wiping her eyes.

“Ugh, well this wasn’t part of the plan!”

You let out a chuckle while rubbing your hands over her thighs.

“Maybe not, but I do love when you’re soft.” Alcina rolls her eyes at you. “What? I love seeing the soft side of my big, bad, intimidating girlfriend.” You say as you wrap your arms around her waist and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

Alcina playfully rolls her eyes at you before wrapping her arms around you and pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a surprised squeal and laugh as she pulls you down.

“I’ll show you big, bad, and intimidating.” She says, flippantly snapping her teeth at you.

“Oh no, I’m so scared!” You say with almost too much sarcasm in your voice as you laugh.

Alcina scoffs at you.

“Don’t be fresh!” She says as she goes to tickle you.

“No! No, no, no!” You yelp, trying to squirm away from her.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere!”

The two of you end up in a pile of limbs and laughter before she finally gives up on tickling you. The drastic shift of moods tonight has you absolutely wiped but Alcina convinces you to shower with her before going to sleep.

Once you’re both done and ready for bed, you notice the rain has finally stopped and all you hear outside is the sound of frogs croaking in the distance. Alcina holds you against her and kisses your forehead.

“I truly am sorry your plans got rained out today, draga.” She says. “Perhaps we can reschedule what you had planned for next weekend?”

“You really want to do that?”

“Of course I do! You put so much time and effort into it. All of the little details you decided to add, like my favorite foods or my favorite museum, it means so much to me that you wanted to do all of those things with me for our anniversary.”

“Well, yeah. I have fun when you have fun. Besides, it’s not like I get many opportunities to woo you.” You say with a smirk.

Alcina laughs and kisses the side of your head.

“We shall have to remedy that, then.” She puts her fingers under your chin and guides you to look up at her. “Happy anniversary, draga mea. Ai toată inima mea. Te iubesc atât de mult îngerul meu.” (You have my whole heart. I love you so much my angel).

“Happy anniversary, Alcina. I love you.”

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 fanfiction #re8 #re8 village #re8 alcina #resident evil village

121 notes · View notes