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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months ago

Note

Hey, I do not think I have asked this before, but if I have please ignore it. I have seen on social media where the wife will ask the bf, or husband to leave the room, so they can get changed. I was wondering what would Ari, and, or Andy's response to this be?

Guessing Games

Summary: Ari doesn't like being kicked out of your bedroom. Also be sure to check out Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Discussions of Body Image, Manhandling, Discussions of Lingerie, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: I think someone actually asked me this a while ago. Maybe. I vaguely remember my answer. However, instead of rehashing that, this is how I think that would go - with a twist! Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Wisps of steam curl around you as you step out of the shower. Snagging a nearby towel, you take your time drying off before reaching for your favorite body butter, leisurely applying it all over your thirsty skin. Once you’re finished, you carefully don your robe and make your way into your bedroom.

Of course you’re not the least bit surprised to find your bounty hunter laying on your bed, eyes closed, with one brawny arm tucked behind his head. To the average person it would appear that he was sleeping. But you knew better.

Last night you’d promised to take a day trip with him to a classic car show that was happening a couple towns over. And, ever the early riser, your man was itching to get on the road. Which meant he was trying to keep a handle on his patience so that he didn’t accidentally piss you off while trying to hurry you along.

The last thing he needed was to be stuck in a car while you pouted for two hours. Having experienced it once before, it was definitely not his idea of a good time.

“You were in there so long I was beginning to worry you might’a drowned.” Although his tone is deceptively light, there’s no missing the hint of impatience.

“The hot water felt extra good this morning. Besides, it's not gonna take me long to get dressed.”

“Eh,” he sighs, adjusting his position so that he’s now sitting up in bed, his big body resting against your numerous decorative pillows. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you make a beeline for your closet. You’d already picked out your outfit the night before, which made things a hell of a lot easier. Grabbing one of your more colorful sundresses off the rack, you hold it up to yourself in the mirror.

“Well, that’s certainly a pretty little number.” Ari muses, sitting up a little straighter so that he can get a better look at your dress. “Christ, I already know if I bring you to the show wearing that, every fella in a ten mile is gonna forget all about those damned cars.”

His words make your cheeks heat. Even though you were pretty sure he was exaggerating just a tad, it still made you feel good. But just in case…

“Um…” Turning to face him, you once again hold the garment up to your chest. “Do you think I should maybe wear something else then?”

“Hell no.” He growls, tossing a pillow into the air and catching it with ease. “Let ‘em look. I don’t give a fuck about you showing off those gorgeous legs – as long as you remember you’re coming home with me.”

“Now how could I possibly go and forget a little detail like that, sugar?” You giggle, blowing him a tiny kiss which he then pretends to catch. As gruff and rough-and-tumble as your man could be at times, he also had no problem making you melt.

It was just part of his irresistible charm.

“You’d better not, baby. Otherwise I won’t be held responsible for what happens if I’m forced to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to my truck.” He gives you a hard look before reaching for his phone, letting you know he’s not kidding.

It might sound crazy, but the longer you two were together, the more you’d begun to realize that there was a small part of you that got off on riling him up. Not all the time, mind you…

But you’d also learned that sometimes pricking your bounty hunter’s temper was well worth whatever punishment would ultimately come your way.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to refocus on the task at hand. You needed to get dressed rather quickly so that you could spend a little extra time in the bathroom putting on your face. Even though you planned to go for a more natural look today, you still wanted to give yourself enough time to be satisfied with the results.

However, before you did all that, there was one more thing you had to take care of. And you were better off doing so without the benefit of an audience.

“Alright, Beast.” You hum, gingerly draping your dress across the end of your bed. “How about you give me a little privacy so I can go ahead and get changed?”

During your latest social media deep dive, you’d come across videos of women asking their significant others to leave the room while they changed their clothes. Many of the reactions had ranged anywhere from confusion to concern. Although there had been a few who seemed not to care one way or the other.

And while you were pretty sure that Ari would fall into the first category, there was a part of you that wanted to see for yourself. So what better time to try it than on a day where you already planned on teasing him for the next few hours anyway?

“Huh?” He sets the device on his chest so that he can give you his full attention.

“Ari.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “I need you to step out so I can get dressed.”

“Oh. Right.” Your man grunts dismissively before swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. “Guess I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

‘Wow.’ You think, cocking your head in surprise as you watch him give a brief stretch. You honestly hadn’t expected it to be that easy. Sometimes this man really was something else.

“Wait a minute – hold on.” Ari rumbles, dragging a hand through his shaggy locks. “How come I gotta go?” The roughness of his tone alone is enough to make you want to clench your thighs together.

“Because I wanna put on my clothes.” You reply innocently, as if it should be obvious.

“And why the hell would I need to step out for that?” The tell-tale tick of his jaw and flare of his nostrils lets you know that he’s not happy.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Maybe because I’m not really in the mood for an audience right now?”

“Baby. Swear to God.” He groans, briefly closing his eyes long enough to count to ten. “I have seen every inch of your body more times than I can count. And let me be the first to tell you, it has been the honor of a lifetime.” “I…um…okay.” You hadn’t really been expecting him to say that.

“Which is exactly why you don’t need to hide from me.” Your man continues, gifting you with a dazzling smile. “I love your curves, Bird. Love explorin’ every sweet, soft inch of ‘em every chance I get.”

“Beast…”

“I mean, how many men can really say that they’ve actually gone and found the woman of their dreams?”

The sheer adoration in his eyes is enough to make your heart skip a beat. Unable to hold his gaze, you choose to look away as you work to swallow the lump in your throat. While you weren’t entirely sure what you’d done to deserve someone as wonderful as Ari, you had no plans on letting him go.

Come hell or high water.

“Seriously. No matter how you shake it, I’m a lucky man.” He gently lobs a pillow at you, making you squeal. “And I plan to keep saying it until the day I die.”

“Jeeze.” You sniff, dashing away a quick tear with your thumb. “You, uh, really know how to boost a girl’s confidence.”

“I only care about my girl and her confidence.” Comes his gruff response. “That’s it. Everyone else can kindly fuck off.”

“Duly noted, handsome.” You tell him, suddenly feeling bashful. “But I, um…” Tamping down a giggle, you try to choose your words carefully. “I’m not kicking you out because I’m ashamed or anything. I’m kicking you out because I bought you a present…for later.” You toss the pillow back at him. It hits square in the chest before falling to the floor. “And I’m not ready for you to see it just yet.”

“Oh, is that right?” A wolfish grin spreads across his features as understanding dawns. “Go on and lemme see. Give me a little somethin’ to look forward to.”

“I just said it’s a surprise.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“If I guess right, will you let me see?” Ari tries again, not bothering to hide his excitement as he launches himself off the bed.

This man loved watching you walk around wearing nothing but lingerie, almost as much as he loved peeling it off of you.

“No, Ari.” You can’t hold back your laugh as you take a step back.

“Is it red?” You’re forced to bat away his eager hands when they reach for the belt of your robe. “Maybe with a little ribbon and some silk?”

“None of your business!” You squeak.

“It’s my surprise. Meaning it’s meant for me.” Grabbing your hips, he pulls you flush against his hard chest. “Which definitely, most certainly, makes it my business.“ He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

God, he was such an incorrigible menace.

“Be a good boy and go downstairs so I can finish getting ready or we’ll be late getting to the show.” You tell him, squirming in his hold.

“What about something tight, black, and lacey?” His voice dips an octave as his hands to the globes of your ass, giving them a proprietary squeeze. “I’m thinkin’ with a set of thigh highs and garters. You know - like the ones you wouldn’t let me buy at that shop back in Crendlewood.”

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see — stop that, damn you!” You cry when Ari begins nibbling along the column of your throat in between teasing kisses, making you giggle.

“C’mon now, darlin’.” He rasps, his thick fingers digging into your tender flesh. “We both know I’m not gonna last that long.”

“I believe in you.”

Undeterred, your stubborn bounty hunter decides to change his approach. Abandoning your neck, his advances move lower, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as he does.

“It’s your fault I already have such a hard time keeping my hands to myself.” He tells you as he nuzzles his nose against the thin fabric of your robe, his warm breath making your nipples pebble. “You can’t just tease me like that without giving me a taste.”

A sharp nip of teeth has you rising on your toes, unintentionally giving him better access to his intended target. Followed by your strangled moan when you feel him release his grip on your ass so that he can undo the ties of your robe - finally revealing your nude body to his heated gaze.

“Fucking beautiful.” He snarls reverently, making your core spasm. “And all mine.”

“Yes, yours.” You agree, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Later.”

“Now.”

“Beast.” You breathe, doing your best to ignore the slick coating your thighs. “Later.”

Grumbling under his breath, Ari levels you with a glare as he takes a step back. You didn’t have to ask to know that he was currently weighing his options.

On one hand, he really did want to go to the car show – almost as much as he wanted to unwrap you his surprise. At the same time, he also hated whenever you made him wait for a taste of you. It always made him so damned impatient.

“Fine.” He grunts, his face looking like he just swallowed something supremely unpleasant. “I’ll go. But you gotta give me a hint first.”

“I do?” You reply, sounding both amused and exasperated.

“‘Fraid so. You either give me that or no deal.” Ari crosses his arms over his broad chest, making it clear that he’s not moving until you give him what he wants.

“Fine.” You parrot, before spinning on your heel to retreat to your closet. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Tossing a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s not looking, you pull out the gift bag you’d hidden under a pile of blankets. Digging through the tissue paper, it actually takes you a few seconds to find what you’re looking for. Clutching the item in your hand, you return to stand in front of your bounty hunter before handing it over, pressing it into his palm.

It’s a pale pink garter. That came with a matching colored bustier and g-string. A fact that your man would no doubt appreciate later.

“Well shit, Duchess.” Ari groans, staring down at the lacey scrap of fabric in his hand. “I think I might’ve just changed my mind about this whole darn trip–”

“Nope!” You swiftly interrupt, snatching back the garter. “A deal is a deal, cowboy. Now, out you go.”

“But what if we–”

“I will meet you in the living room.” Ignoring his protests, you waste no time shooing him out of your bedroom before brazenly shutting the door in his now-pouting face. “Go watch TV or something until I’m ready.”

“This isn’t fair.” Your grumpy bounty grouses, banging his fist against the wall.

“I promise to make it up to you later.” You tease, allowing your robe to fall to the floor as you begin putting on your jewelry. “I might even let you take a few pictures if you ask nicely.”

“Damn it, baby!” Ari hisses as he finally heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time while he debates the best way to go about dealing with his increasingly uncomfortable hard-on.

It was going to be a long fucking day, especially now that he’d gotten a glimpse of what you planned to wear underneath that flimsy little sundress. Opening your freezer, he wonders if it’s too early to consider icing his balls. Perhaps he’d be better off waiting until after your road trip.

“God, I am so fucked.” He mumbles as he fishes out a half-frozen bottle of water before twisting off the cap and taking a sip. “And all because my girl has the nerve to look so goddamn pretty in pink.”

END

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solar-wing · 10 months ago

Text

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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writella · 4 months ago

Note

Pookie, more Negan x reader to celebrate 1k?🤭

for you? well ofc! ♡

cw: negan x fem!reader, smut, light somnophilia, fingering, rubbing, wc- under 1k.

His sleeping beauty rests one floor above the wives’ quarters.

Alone.

Yeah, yeah, call it special treatment, favoritism.

It is.

The time on his watch reads 10:55 am. It’s a Sunday.

He should have come to you earlier. Slipped in your bed while he was still in his nightwear. Pretend you two are a regular couple for just an hour at least, hold you close, have morning sex.

But he’s late and he hates it. This is the one day of the week where he can be late for everyone else, but of course one of his guys just had to have a fight with a couple of workers already throwing off the entire schedule for the day and he had to manage it.

It doesn’t matter now though, because as he opens the door he sees just as he suspects— you’re sleeping in.

His beautiful girl in his room he reserved just for you. So silent and serene and away from everyone else that he can kneel down on the floor near your bed and unabashedly admire you. Take comfort in your softness. Treat you in a way no one expects.

As he takes you in, he sees the lace and flowers of your nightgown peek through from an arm that is placed over your blanket, exposing your shoulder. Admiring the sight, he takes his hand and wisps the backs of his fingers to swipe bits of your ruffled hair out of your face. He tries as gently as he can but already he sees your eyes fluttering. You breathe in, eyes almost lifting to an open until you settle. You breathe out and dig your head into your pillow on one side.

Negan kisses your shoulder and then slides the hand farthest from your face inside your blanket. His fingers slip down the cotton of your gown until he finds your mound, then your lips, and pushes his fingers inward, starting to rub. He draws gentle circles, and instantly you’re rustling. Your lower body jerks, only once, involuntarily. One hand lightly goes to hold onto his wrist as you find it and your head turns to his direction. With hazy sleep in your squinted eyes and a sweet scratchy voice you let out a croaked whisper, “Negan?”

“Yes, baby,” he answers in a deep, dark alto voice; like flowing chocolate; he still had his morning voice.

Negan’s fingers slide down your leg and under your gown, sliding back up to the now exposed skin to him and he slots his fingers between your lips again. He loves how you never wear panties at night. You make it so easy for him.

He feels a slight slick around your hole and works at your clit again to make you wetter. Your pussy lightly pushes up into him and your eyes stay closed. He takes his hand closest to your face and rests it on your breast and you take both of your hands to hold that one. You squeeze his hand just as your squeeze around nothing down below— his fingerings bringing heat to your body everywhere.

“N- mm- uh- Negan,” you moan out. It’s small, a little whiny, and choked out, but your eyes and nose are scrunched up. You’re still sleepy.

He keeps rubbing circles as your keep trying to push yourself up and down, left or right onto his finger tips and then he slides down, your wetness growing just as he wanted it to, and he slides a finger in. He works it in and out— not too slow, nor too fast.

He takes his hand from in between yours and places his forearm over your pillow so he can get closer to you, kissing your lips and swallowing your whines as he continues to pump with the over hand down below.

“Feels good, baby?” He asks, looking over your swollen morning features and your head that slightly shakes from side to side at the feeling on him working on you.

“Oh, yes!” You answer, light and breathy, in a princess voice. “Mmmm,” you sigh, “would feel even better if you did this,” to which you demonstrate with your hands going under your blanket and back onto his wrist. You take his palm and place it on your puffed clit and rub down and inward as he continues to pump you as best as he can with his fingers. “Oh, yes,” you nod, “mhm”loving the feeling of pressure from top to end, “like that Negan.”

He smiles, fast and lust filled as he rests his head on the bed, continuing to watch your expressions of sleepy awe and pleasure as you both work on getting you to your high.

God, you looked so heavenly with your mouth wide open like that, always ready for those pretty little moans to roll out on that slick tongue. He started imagining his cock choked up in there. It made his semi-hard on stir into a full. “Fuck,” he draws out.

He starts kissing the corner of your mouth, and a cheek, and neck, whispering with that dark chocolate rasp in your ear how, “You’re being such a good girl, baby. Getting so wet for me this fast. I think you’re ready, huh?” To which you whine and nod in response, your back already arching as you try to push his palm into you deeper and deeper. “Mmhm. I know you are. Such a pretty little slut for me. I’m about to make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

#negan smith smut #negan smith x reader #negan smith x reader smut #negan smith fic #negan smith fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x reader smut #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith x y/n #negan x y/n #negan smith x you #negan fanfiction #twd smut #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction

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cuinaminute229 · 24 days ago

Text

With death comes life part 3

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

a/n: this took a while but here it is!

part 1 part 2

...

It almost feels impossible.

Agatha without magic.

But you know the truth as if it were engraved into your very soul. She is powerless.

The knowledge leaves a bad taste in your mouth. This is so much more than a binding. At least that would still leave the lifeblood of a witch's magic alone even if unreachable.

But Agatha's powers aren't bound. They're missing.

With furrowed brows, you glance back up at her. She's not looking at you, her posture rigid as she studies the polish of the piano. A single painted nail drags against the paint as if she wants to peel it away to see what's underneath.

Something happened to her. Something chased her to the road.

This is a witch's last resort after all.

You want to ask. The question is on the tip of your tongue but you hesitate.

If this conversation continues all that will be returned is insults and profane remarks. You don't want to argue, not like this.

Not when her emotions simmer just underneath your own. Her anger, her pain, her grief. It would be too much when added with your own.

You close your eyes, lower your head and force out a slow breath. You need to think; you need to find Rio.

You need answers that Agatha won't give.

The feeling of your fingers brushing over the delicate skin of your wrist is grounding, calming. There is no physical mark from her touch. She hasn't intended to hurt you, at least not like that.

Yet, the soft pulse of your magic as it comes to the surface feels like relief. The way it dances along your fingers is familiar as the sight of falling stars.

Your emotions turn bittersweet when you remember how Agatha loved mixing magic with you. Seeing her purple and your white dancing together was always a sight.

It was breathtaking when Rio joined in, that subtle smile on her face.

She always said it was for research. Was her magic untouchable to others, was she just a siphon? She had so many questions and you were never one to deny her.

That first time she asked is a memory you will never forget.

Agatha laying in bed next to you, heavy with sleep, daring to ask the question fully conscious Agatha wouldn't dream of.

She was curious; she was terrified. And still you held little hesitation as you reached out to the fire-lit ceiling above and pulled your magic to the surface.

The wisps of white magic danced around like a small cloud, lighting the room with its glow.

The look on her face when she overcame her hesitation and matched your movement was worth everything. The astonishment, the relief.

Agatha's magic isn't volatile by nature. Sure it's unchecked, wild even, but it doesn't lash out first. It doesn't take until there is no choice.

To be able to see the swirls of white and purple magic dancing together, to know that it was possible. You know those moments were special to her. Even after she learned someone had to blast her to activate that pull.

With a very subtle glance up you can see that you're not the only one thinking about that time long ago. Her gaze is lowered to your wrist, a pinch in her brow as she watches silently.

The twitch of her fingers tell you enough. That subtle reflex to bring her purple to her fingers and reach out for you, the muscle memory of moments long gone.

When she steps back you let her. The notion is clear she will walk away if you will.

You flex your fingers, letting your magic settle as it's pulled back from the surface. You decide that this trial is more important than shared history and pain. If you focus on the goal here you don't have to look at you, you don't have to notice her.

When you glance up you see her watching you. Those baby blue eyes of hers are looking at you with a coldness that's familiar.

No more vulnerability between the two of you. You can’t help but wonder if there was ever a chance this wasn’t doomed from the start.

You don't say anything as you turn and walk away. This middle ground is fragile, to speak now would break it so you don't.

When you turn the corner you find Alice. She's looking at a picture with a sense of recognition. She glances at you when you step closer, giving you a fleeting smile.

As you look at the picture you can see the resemblance Alice shares with the woman. “Your mother?” You question with a glance at her.

She gives a small nod.

“She loved singing. It was her passion, right after showing me how to play soccer.” Alice smiles and you watch her closely.

“She died when I was sixteen. There was a fire, her hotel room. They said it was a freak accident but it felt like more."

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable but you feel the need to continue on if only to give the protection witch some privacy to wrestle her own emotions down.

With a quick glance around your eyes land on a single ajar door. You walk over and step through with ease, this room is still part of the trial.

It's a sound booth, you conclude as you glance around. The wide expansion of glass at the front of the room shows off the lounge. The witches scattered as they look for a clue they don't know what is.

“Boring isn't it?”

You glance back at her and scoff. It is boring, that you can't argue with but you have other concerns at the moment.

“Rio,” you say her name with a warning, turn to lean back against the soundboard that sits below the window.

The green witch gives you a dangerous smile as she stands from the rolling chair she was just in and walks to you. When she's close enough to touch you reach out, brush a hand over the exposed skin of her chest, fingers dancing up her sternum.

As she leans closer, places her hands on either side of you, it's easy to slip out the knife from it's holding at her hip.

The moment you have it in hand she moves. Not away, no that would be too easy. She pushes into your space like a cat caging a mouse.

You feel her hand on your neck seconds after she closes the distance. Everything becomes an afterthought, the knife, your questions, the witches on the other side of the glass. The second hand emotions from Agatha fade like a breeze.

Rio kisses you with a hunger you know runs deep. She pulls you into her with a growl that makes you yield. Her touch feels like the first sparks of a dragon’s fire, it's intoxicating and she knows you love it.

When her fingers brush against the nape of your neck, scratching lightly you swear she's trying to make you melt like a puddle. The sensation almost makes you drop the knife, makes you moan into the kiss.

When she pulls away her eyes are bright with satisfaction when you need a moment. You spread your fingers out over the place where her heart is buried, close your eyes and bask in the feeling of her fingers brushing through your hair.

“You are cruel.” You mutter under your breath when you finally see what she’s done. She’s distracted you from those racing thoughts, the assumptions and questions.

“You looked like you wanted to argue.” She says, states a fact really because she was right. She saw right through you and decided to play her game.

With a soft sigh as she runs her hands down your arms you twist the knife in hand when she pushes closer. Giving you no room to breathe around her, there is only Rio and god do you love it.

“You know me too well.” You raise your chin and she smirks. When her fingers encircle your wrist, the subtle tell of her knowing what you did, you let your hand go limp. There was never a question about if you were going to use it, she never would have let it get that far.

But those few seconds of thinking you got away with it makes you grin at her. You tap a rhythm against her chest, hum softly when she pulls her knife away and puts it back where it was. Her dark eyes never leave your gaze.

“I know you better than the stars know the moon.” Her little proud smile makes you chuckle, you drag your hand down her chest to fiddle with the end of the gap.

With a glance at the window, the sight of a witch looking at the decorated walls, you have to remind yourself to focus. “I do have a question.” You look at Rio who merely raises her brow and waits.

The subtle exploration of her hands at your waist, fingers fiddling with the embroidery of your clothes distracts you just a bit but not enough to derail your thoughts. “Agatha,” She frowns as the name falls from your lips but lets you continue. “Do you know why she’s here?”

The question isn’t even a question, not really. You know Rio’s always kept tabs on Agatha, even when she got a hold of that damned book Rio never stopped looking, never stopped trying to find her.

If something as drastic as Agatha losing her magic wasn’t enough to draw Death’s gaze then you don’t know what could. There is no darkhold this time, there is no magic, only a broken woman still running from her pain and her past.

When Rio bites her lip, glances away, her hands on your waist halting, you know the answer without a doubt.

“Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to her? Who is chasing her?” You try to catch her eyes but Rio refuses, she looks tired. You don’t like it.

“Rio,” Her name on your lips is a plea, soft and gentle. You reach out for her, brush your hands along her jaw and guide her to look at you. She doesn’t want to fight, you know this so you bury down the betrayal you feel. You can feel it later but right now you need answers.

With a defeated sigh she gives in. Explains what she knows happened, what she had to figure out afterwards. Why Agatha is here is only a suspicion, she knows along with you that Agatha doesn’t need the road, she never did.

And finally, who is after her. The Salem Seven. The name makes you groan in annoyance, everywhere they travel destruction seems to follow. The fact that they have a vendetta against Agatha is only personal.

“So you pulled me here with you because…” You don’t finish what you were going to say. This entire situation is like a spark to a wildfire, everything can go wrong with just a snap of a finger.

“She needs us right now. Both of us.” Rio looks you in the eyes when she says the words you don’t want to hear. When silence follows, when it is you who looks away, your touch falling to her shoulders, Rio tilts her head to find your gaze.

The moment she whispers your name as softly as you said hers, you give. You look at her and she softens, gives you a reassuring smile that does nothing of the sort.

“She doesn’t want us.” You tell her. Agatha's screams echo in your mind, she hates both of you for what happened. The memory drowns out everything about what's going on around you. The danger everyone is in.

“And still she needs us.” Rio reminds you gently. You hate that she’s right.

Whatever Agatha is trying to do she can't do it alone. Not like this, not when she's a witch with no magic.

Not when she's on a road that only takes and hardly gives in return. She’s not going to find what she wants here, not in the way she’s imagining. Trick and trials alike, right? The road is famous for not playing fair.

And still, you wont leave. Not when Rio is here, not when Agatha is here.

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha all along #agathario #agatha x rio x reader #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #rio vidal x fem!reader #cu:mine

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so-much-for-the-seashells · 4 months ago

Text

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

****************************************************

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff #wolverine smut

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fanwarriorfictions · 9 months ago

Text

Not Again- Part Four

Summary: With the discovery of a special book, Y/n is one step closer to home. The inner court learns even more about her family back home. And Azriel needs a babysitter of his own

Series Masterlist

-Part Four-

Amren found them in the kitchen, food had been waiting for them on the counter before they’d even arrived, the house it seemed was sick of her not eating as well. She’d simply laughed at the nagging presence and started filling her plate. Azriel had entered moments later, a small scowl on his lips from being left in her dust. He’d huffed and quietly filled his plate, he wasn’t kidding when he said flying worked up his appetite.

“I have use of your stray, boy. Go find somewhere else to be.”

Azriel gives the small female an unimpressed look, “nice to see you too, Amren.”

Y/n pushes her half eaten plate away, waving off the wisps of shadows that angrily dance around her at the action, “Did you find something?”

“I had that insufferable songbird pull any books she could find with your Wyrd marks,” Amren says, snapping her fingers.

A pile of books fall onto the counter, old withered pages that look like they hadn’t been opened in many many years. A plume of dust flies off them and Y/n wisks it away with a small breeze.

“Can you read them?” Azriel asks, eyeing the pages one book that’d fallen open.

“I thought I told you to find somewhere else to be?” Amren snaps, though there’s no threat behind it.

“My babysitter here is vigilant in his task,” Y/n sighs ignoring the withering look Azriel gives her, she takes one of the books into her hands and flips through some of the pages, “My mother taught me what she knew of the marks. Protection, locking, unlocking, many things like that, but we never covered gates, it simply wasn’t possible, and she didn’t want me testing fate.”

“Well to bad, it would’ve been useful to know that now,” Amren sighs, picking a book out of the stack, shoving it towards her, “Gwyn said this one practically jumped off the shelf at her.”

Y/n eyes the title and almost drops the book in shock. Azriel takes a casual step closer to peer over her shoulder at the book, a shadow finds her arm and gently wraps around it, a comforting touch.

“You know it?” Amren asks, giving that wisp of shadow a curious look, “I couldn’t read it, what is it called?”

“The Walking Dead,” Y/n answers breathlessly, “in my native language.”

Azriel couldn’t read the book, but he still looks over her shoulder periodically as she flips through each page. She’d been at it for hours, taking notes on the scraps of paper littered over the dining room table. Amren had taken the remaining books to look over, most had been fae scholars from this world musing over the marks, nothing quite as useful as the book in Y/n’s hands it would seem. Amren would also look over the Book of Breathings, see if anything jumped out at her.

Y/n had barely spoken to him the whole time, quietly mumbling to herself once in a while as she wrote. Azriel noticed that her notes switched between his language and her own in sporadic patterns, sentences switching back and forth, one word in one language then the next in the other. Swirling letters that connected in long strokes of her pen. The words were close together, she hardly lifted the pen as she finished one to write the next, like her brain was moving faster than her hand could keep up.

She was so focused that she didn’t notice Azriel slip out the door, didn’t notice when Rhys had appeared and waved him towards the hall.

“How’s research going?” The High Lord asks, “Amren has yet to find anything useful.”

Azriel turns an eye through the door, at the female still engrossed in that book, “nothing yet, though it seems Y/n may put Amren to shame in relentless focus. I don’t think she’s looked away from that book for more than the few seconds it takes to write something down.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Amren she has the competition,” Rhys chuckles, “I hear you two went for a flight today. All over Velaris people are talking about the almighty Shadowsinger chasing after a bird all afternoon.”

He gives Azriel a shit eating grin and Az scowls back at him, “she was determined to leave her babysitter in the dust.”

His scowl deepens when Rhys just laughs, “what? Don’t like chasing after pretty females?”

“I’m sure his ego is just bruised cause he can’t keep up,” Y/n’s voice calls out from the room behind them, “Big strong males tend to dislike being shown up by us pretty females.”

Azriel glares over his shoulder at the female who hadn’t even looked up from her notes, “I can keep up just fine.”

“Sure you can,” she laughs, turning a page, “I won’t hold back next time if that’s what you wish.”

His shadows laugh in his ears and he turns his glare on them. Rhys next to him grins as he walks into the room, eyes taking in the mess of papers full of Y/n’s half put together thoughts. She finally looks up then, acknowledging the male with a small nod of her head.

Her eyes are tinged red, like she hadn’t even blinked in the time she’d been sitting there. She glances at him, grinning at the scowl still on his lips. He glares harder, shoving his shadows down as they continue to laugh at him.

Rhys looks between them, “found anything useful?”

It breaks their stare and her smile falls. Azriel gets the strangest sense that he wants it back.

“Yes and no,” she sighs, “I recognize a lot of it, this was the book my mother learned a lot of what she knows of the Wyrd marks. She used it to open a gate to the place souls rest once to talk to… a friend. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere, I just need to keep looking.”

He notes the pause, the shift of her tone, whoever Aelin had tired to talk to, it was a sore subject. Take a break, she’s sad again, sad, she needs to rest, working for hours, hours, break. Azriel is half tempted to hiss at the nosey little shadows. They’d been at it for the last hour, as soon as the sun started to dip below the horizon, it’s like they switched into nanny mode. He wasn’t sure why they were so concerned anyway, she was more than capable of taking care of her damn self.

“The gates are the tricky ones,” she continues, grabbing pages of notes, “I’m close to figuring it out, I could probably open a gate, but to get to the right place is the hard part is opening one to the right place. I could just as easily walk right into a hell realm as I could into my own. And as fun as that seems, I’d rather not test my luck.”

“How many realms are out there?” Azriel asks.

“Who knows,” she shrugs, “my mother remembers falling through many, she couldn’t even describe most of them because of how fast she was falling. Give me a day and I think I could figure this out-“

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Rhys cuts in, “surely you could take a break. Maybe join us for dinner? We’ve all stewed up more questions for you, Cassian has a list.”

Yes, yes, yes, dinner, she didn’t eat enough, yes. Mother above, he wished he could get the shadows to shut up.

Y/n hesitantly glances at the papers surrounding her on the dining room table, “I seem to have commandeered the space. I’d hate for it to get stained.”

Azriel could tell that what she really wanted to say was, I need to keep working so I can get home. It was written in the longing glances at the book, in the way she flew towards the horizon like home was on the other side, the way she looked at the sky expectantly, searching for something he couldn’t quite figure out.

“We’ll eat at my home,” Rhys shrugs, “your research will be here, exactly where you left it when you return.”

She looks ready to argue, to deny, to beg to stay, but instead she sighs, “Is dinner a casual affair, or does your lot like to preen?”

Rhys laughs, “It’s whatever you like, preen as much as you wish.”

She hums, “My babysitter and I will be there shortly then.”

Mother, give him strength. She pushes to her feet, giving him that saccharine smile as she walks past him towards her room. Her scent lingers as she leaves, that hint of embers stronger than usual. He can’t help the subtle intake of air, nor the shadow that grazes her wrist like it would wrap around and make her stay.

She’s barely out the door before Rhys is clapping him on the shoulder with a quiet chuckle, “do you need a babysitter? I’m sure Cassian would like to return the favor.”

Azriel snarls at him, “We’ll see you at the house brother.”

Rhys just laughs again, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he moves towards the door, “take your time. I wouldn’t blame you for being a little late.”

“Get out.”

Azriel waits for her in the living room, she’d still been in her room when he’d gotten dressed, which wasn’t surprising since it only took him a few minutes to change into a slightly nicer shirt, he didn’t bother with the preening, Rhys did that enough for all of them.

Heel clicks on the floor alert him to her approach, she turns the corner into the room and Azriel couldn’t stop the way his body goes absolutely still.

He thought night court black suited her but he was wrong, she looked good in it but it didn’t compare to the way she looked in this dress. Deep green of a forest, the silk fabric flows with her body like water, showcasing each of those curves like currents, with accents of silver thread and shining jewels that glow in the light like the stars above. She’d lined her eyes with kohl, giving them that sultry look that could drive a male wild. And her lips, Mother help him, her lips were painted a deep wine red, so dark it could’ve been black.

Gorgeous, she was absolutely gorgeous. He’d known she was pretty, he wasn’t blind, he’d noticed when he’d found her laying in the moonlight, even covered in blood she was beautiful, but it didn’t strike him till now exactly how attractive she was.

“You like what you see shadowsinger?” Her grin is feline and lethal, voice dripping with honey, “I told you I was your type.”

He doesn’t respond, simply continues to look her over. There’s a fire in her eyes that has his shadows whirling around him and when her head angles in that predator way, he’s almost willing to be the prey.

House wasn’t a good discriptor of the giant building that sits before her. Manor maybe, but Azriel had called it the River House. Rhys and Feyre’s personal residence that Feyre had apparently designed herself. The garden in the back had been where she’d fallen into this world, she’d been to frantic to really appreciate her surroundings. It was absolutely beautiful.

Azriel led her through the front door and the interior was just as magnificent as the outside, intricate and elegant, yet it still felt warm and lived in. A multitude of paintings lined the walls as they walked to the dining room. From their conversation earlier, she assumed they were done by Feyre herself. The High Lady had mentioned her art studio, she had a class this afternoon that she would be teaching. Y/n had leaned towards musical arts, but she always loved going to galleries with her aunt Lysandra. According to Rhys, there was a section of Velaris called the rainbow, the artist quarter of the city. She assumed she’d flown through it today with Azriel, the place had been alive, filled with music that she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

As they moved down the hall she could hear the sounds of the Inner Court, as they called themselves, growing closer and closer. Their laughter reminded her of home, of dinners with the cadre and her uncles visiting from Adarlan, or even Nesryn and Sartaq all the way from the southern continent. They were never quiet affairs, always full of laughter and teasing, usually from Fenrys and Dorian on the later.

The last dinner like that had been little over a month ago. She’d dressed up in a gown this exact color. Her aunt Elide had helped her do her makeup, she’d practically had to hold her down in her chair so she could finish, to excited to sit still. It was her favorite nights of the year, these dinners, seeing her family come together all in one place. Sometimes they’d even convince Manon to join them, never aunt Manon, though she’d gotten away with that once when she was a child. It was always magical seeing her and Dorian dance around each other as if they weren’t desperate for the other.

She would sit there and watch her family, watch the way everyone loved each other. How her parents would stare into each others eyes and grin like someone had told a joke. How her uncle Aedion would dance with her aunt Lysandra to music only the two of them could hear. How uncle Chaol and aunt Yrene would bicker together with smiles still on their lips, to the utter annoyance of her cousin, Josefin. She watched them all, and hoped one day she would have someone who would love her just as fiercely

“Where’d you go, princess?”

Her mind drifts back from that far away place across the stars, finding Azriel’s gaze on her. Stoic as always, but she could see the bit of concern behind those whiskey eyes. It warms something in her, just barely, just enough for her to give him a small but genuine smile.

“Home,” she says quietly, “I was home.”

“So you’re telling me, a demi fae is one of your strongest warriors,” Cassian says, throwing quotes around the words, “and the guys power is death, just pure death? And he’s how tall exactly?”

Y/n laughs, “My uncle Lorcan has described it to me as death, I’m not sure what that means exactly, it was a gift from the old God of Death, Hellas. It looks like Azriel’s shadows, though they’re not sentient little creatures more like whips of shadow that he controls. I don’t know how tall he is exactly but he’s taller then you, he’s taller than all three of you males, actually. You should see the height difference between him and Elide.”

Azriel couldn’t help the small grin on his lips as his brother continues to pester Y/n over the apparently giant uncle of hers. It’d started with him asking about her father, and then the rest of his cadre. She’d told them all about the mighty warriors. Fenrys, who she could only describe as very very pretty, he could shift into a giant white wolf, and winnow, though not quite as much as those here could. Lorcan, the giant shadow wielder, who’s name is apparently Lord Lorcan Lochan, to everyone’s utter amusement. And a mysterious figure named Vaughan, who she admits wasn’t around a lot when she grew up, usually away in Wendlyn, he could shift into a massive osprey.

“There’s no way, he’d have to be like seven feet tall,” Cassian argues, mouth opening to ask yet another question.

Nesta elbows him in the side, “I want to hear more about the shapeshifter.”

“Lysandra,” Y/n supplies the name with a warm smile, “Her favorite form is a snow leopard, lethal creatures, but the softest fur you’d ever felt in your life. When I was a child she’d let me cuddle up next to her by the fire to take naps.”

“You’d mentioned a sea battle earlier,” Mor chimes in, “what was the creature she shifted into.”

Y/n’s eyes light up, “One of my favorite stories, I would beg to hear it again and again. It’s called a sea dragon, the companions of the Mycenians of old Terrasen. When they were banished from their home centuries ago the sea dragons all died out and it became legend that once the dragons returned, so would the Mycenians.”

Azriel watches her, enraptured by her stories. It had been like that the whole night. She’d been stolen away by Feyre as soon as they’d arrived, more and more questions being thrown at her throughout dinner. He’d taken a seat across from her next to Cassian, who had by far asked her the most. But she met each one with a story, that look in her eye from out in the hall hidden but not gone. She’d seemed lost, far far away, and so sad. He’d almost turned around and brought them back to the house of wind just so she could keep looking for a way home, just to erase that look. But when she’d smiled at him, all he could do was stare.

“During the war my mother had traveled to Skulls bay.” She talked with her hands, Azriel noticed. “One of the missing Mycenians was there, she’d figured it out a long time before that when she was still an assassin, when she’d wrecked the whole port to free hundreds of slaves. Captain Rolfe, the pirate lord, was not happy to learn the assassin who’d ruined his island was actually the long lost Queen of Terrasen. He refused to send aid, so my mother did what she does best, she schemed. Her and my aunt devised the plan to bring the sea dragon back. The battle didn’t go quite as planned, the valg had sea wyverns, vicious and powerful. But that sea dragon form, huge and magnificent was stronger, smarter. She used them against the valg forces, sending those beasts straight into the hulls of their own ships. My mother tells me that she could barely keep up with Lysandra’s speed, if you blinked she was gone. It was close, she was badly wounded, but she won.”

“Wow,” Elain breathes, eyes sparkling, “That’s amazing.”

“My uncle Aedion tells it better,” Y/n shrugs, smiling at the memory, “He always told me that it was then that he decided he could not live without her. When he saw her bleeding on that beach still in that huge form, half wild from the fight, he wasn’t afraid of her even though she looked ready to bite his head off.”

Cassian laughs, hooking an arm over the back of Nesta’s chair, “I know the feeling.”

Nesta looked half tempted to bite him right then to prove his point. Cassian simply grins at his mate, that telltale look in his eyes that would usually have the pair leaving early at any moment.

Azriel rolls his eyes at the pair, looking towards the female across from him. To find Y/n already looking right back. She’s got that overly sweet smile on her painted lips that she knows gets under his skin. He gets the sense that she enjoys it, the way he glares at her, it’s like a game. See how much she could push before he finally pushed back.

Rhys leans forward, that knowing grin on his lips again, “How fast can you fly in that hawk form? You said you went easy on poor Az earlier.”

She laughs and somehow he doesn’t care that it’s at his expense, “Very very fast, I can shift the air under my wings to go even faster. I could make it to the house of wind in less than a minute if I wished.”

“Impressive,” Azriel says, rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, Az,” she taunts.

It’s the first time she’s called him that, he quite enjoys the sounds of it, “Is it really losing if your competitions got a boost?”

“Only using what’s in my arsenal,” she shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of her wine.

Azriel’s eyes zero in on the motion, appreciating the way her lips rest on the edge of the glass. He was right, that color stained.

Careful brother, Rhys whispers in his mind, Or I really will send Cassian to babysit you.

He glares at the high lord, I do not need a sitter.

That’s what Cassian said, Rhys shrugs, Now look at him.

And it’s like a timer goes off on his patience, Cassian stands from his chair, taking his mate’s hand in his own.

“Well I think it’s time for us to go,” Cassian declares, he’d lasted longer than Azriel thought he would.

Nesta turns her eye on Y/n, “We train at the house of wind every morning, 8 am sharp, be there.”

Y/n grins, baring those sharp canines, and Azriel has the good sense to be wary of letting those two near each other in a sparring ring.

Tag List- Anyone in white could not be tagged. Let me know if I got your tag wrong!!

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 @fussel9913

#there’s some tension here and it’s mostly coming from azzie #hot lady wears some lipstick and this man is on his knees #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin

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cherrychilli · 11 months ago

Text

18+

Eddie Munson x flexible! reader, AFAB reader, allusions to PIV sex

Eddie finds out you're double jointed.

A/N: This one's super self indulgent because I'm very bendy and I felt like writing about it. Also they smoke weed but everything's consensual✌️

"C'mon, there's gotta be something about you I don't know already", he prompts after another smoky exhale, blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It wisps out into the evening air beyond the back doors of his van, opened out to overlook a moon dappled lover's lake.

This is what the conversation had dwindled down to after having spent the whole day together, most other talking points already stretched thin by now.

Usually you would have considered the question more carefully but now that your intuition's been dulled by his stash, you search through the foggy corridors of your mind for an answer like you're feeling around for a light switch in the dark.

Eddie has been your closest friend for the better part of five years now and you weren't exactly a closed book by any means which made coming up with something all the more difficult.

Most of what comes to mind feels too mundane to mention so you pass them over in favor of searching for something that might pique his interest.

"Hmm, I'm kind of double jointed I guess", you slowly recalled, too mellowed out to realize the kind of implications something like that might carry to a man like Eddie.

But where there should have been raised eyebrows and a lascivious curve on his lips you find his eyes narrowing into a puzzled little squint instead as he looks at you from where he's leaned against the back of the driver's seat.

"But we've only had one", he turns the joint in his hand over to examine it closer as if a second one might be hidden somewhere underneath.

Maybe you'd given him too much credit.

You roll your eyes at him playfully, leaning closer on your hands and knees to pluck the joint out of his hand and take another puff. The weed might have made him a little slow and sluggish to fully comprehend your what you'd just shared with him but not enough to prevent him from sneaking a peek at your cleavage from this angle.

"No Eddie, it just means I'm flexible. Like, a little more than most people", you return to your side of the van, leaning back against the side door with your knees pulled up to your chest.

"So, like the splits?"

"More than that"

"More?", his eyes go wide and you can see a hint of redness bordering his sclera, certain the same tinge is present in own eyes too.

"Yeah, like check this out", you hand him back the last of the joint for him to finish off and put out. Holding up your left hand, you fold your thumb into your palm and gather the rest of your fingers with your right hand, slowly bending them back beyond what he thought to be your limit.

The unnatural arc might have unsettled anyone else but not Eddie and you begin to giggle when his face lights up instead of twisting into a wince.

"Shit, does that hurt?"

"Nope", you start to beam a little, letting him take your hand in his when he reaches for it eagerly.

Carefully, he manipulates them, making them bend in all kinds of ways; touching your thumb to your forearm, pushing the first joint of each finger back as far as possible.

"Oh that's fucked", he smiles big and wide as if he could gladly spend an entire day just messing around with your fingers.

"What else can you do?"

His impress fills you with a new kind of high, one much more heady than the weed and you fail to resist it now that you've gotten a taste.

"Mm, I can get my legs behind my head too", you shrug, this time much more aware of what you're divulging.

"Seriously? both of them?", he manages to ask calmly enough though you can almost feel him buzzing under his skin like a cicada about to take flight.

"Yeah, don't even really have to stretch to do it"

His jaw tenses, his normally expressive face unreadable before he quietly asks, "can I see?"

Oh this is dangerous. You feel like you're entering uncharted territory in your friendship but you like the look stirring in his eyes too much to deny him.

"Maybe just one", you offer, thankful that you're wearing your cotton shorts today instead of something denim.

Sitting criss cross on the old blanket he uses to carpet the back of his van for smoke sessions, you slip off your flip flops and place both hands on your right foot. With your left hand cradling the ball of your foot and your right hand gripping your heel, you begin to lift your leg up past your chest.

The underside of your thigh which he only gets to secretly ogle on days when you're dressed like this is bared to him as you get your calf over your shoulder, no trace of pain or discomfort on your face. Dropping your right hand, you duck your head slightly to maneuver your foot over it with your left hand then it's done. Your foot slips into place behind your head, heel nudging the nape of your neck. You're able to straighten up to look him in the eye, shooting him a wink while you wiggle your toes.

"There. Not so hard", you can't help but show off, drunk on the stunned look etched on Eddie's face.

And then his eyes trailed lower.

He does it quickly -- a mental snapshot that he'll file away for later. He memorizes the way your shorts have ridden up, so tight around your core he can make out the print of your underwear and the shape of your cunt beneath the stretched out fabric, wishing he could rip the stitches of the offending material apart and fit his tongue there instead.

Pleased with your display, you untangle yourself smoothly, limbs returning to their rightful alignments as Eddie takes a few seconds to blink himself out of his thoughts. His entirely non platonic, downright debaucherous thoughts.

"Woah that was...wow", he settles, pressing his lips together before his motormouth revs up and he lets out something he'll regret. 'You're like a sexy stretch Armstrong', nearly makes its way through but he's able to bite on to it and swallow it back down just in time.

"You're the first guy I've ever shown that to", you laugh but it comes out a little weak now that you're processing what you've just done.

"Seriously? what about Mark?", he asks, face scrunching up slightly like the name left a bad taste in Eddie's mouth.

The mention of your last ex sobers you up even more. "No, I never told him", you tell him simply, smothering down a laugh. The truth was Mark's idea of kinky was leaving the lights on so you never brought up your little contortionist act, afraid it would be too much for him to handle.

"Don't think he would have been into it", you tell Eddie instead and he looks back at you, deadpanned.

"What?"

"Sorry I just find that really hard to believe", he clears his throat, barely disguising his own interest.

The silence that follows has a certain weight to it. It's a familiar kind of weight that you've felt before on days when you're alone with Eddie and the line between friends and something more begins to blur. The weight of possibility.

"Always wanted to try it", you add, hoping like hell that you haven't misread that hungry look in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I don't know just seems like it could be...fun?", you shrug, a not entirely successful attempt at appearing nonchalant because you've begun to sweat. The van feels far too small all of a sudden which doesn't make sense because you're nowhere near as close as you would like to be with the boy who's seems to be stuck on what to say next.

Call it a leap of faith or call it a huge fucking mistake but you decide to take the plunge and ask him the question that's been beating on the inside of your cranium like a hammer on a nail.

"Eddie, would it be weird if I ask you to-"

"Yes", he answers quickly. Resolutely.

The swiftness of it hurts like a guillotine coming down on your heart -- shot down before you'd even finished the question so you swallow down your regret like a throatful of gravel.

"R-right. Yeah I know it was stupid of me to even try to-"

He doesn't know where he went wrong until he sees your bottom lip tremble and the confidence you'd worn up until now completely strip away, realizing you've mistaken him eagerly jumping the gun for flat out rejection.

Eddie's hands come down on your shoulders as he bolts up to kneel in front of you, shaking you to shock the tears away before they have a chance rise and turn your eyes glassy.

"No! I mean yes, it's not not weird but I don't care because YES, I want to um, do that with you… is what I meant"

His grip eases up but his eyes stay wide to read your expression, chest no longer feeling like an anvil had been dropped on it when a smile breaks out on your face, the kind that feels like it could reach beyond his ribcage and touch his heart.

"Really?", you ask, somehow understanding him perfectly. If there was anyone who could make sense of Eddie's nonsense it was you.

"I mean, if you want to...", he leans closer when he catches you looking at his lips.

"I do want to", you lean in too, hands smoothing up his chest, bringing your lips closer to his.

For all the effort he put into keeping his unfiltered thoughts from spilling out it's just his luck that he stumbles over the very last hurdle before the finishing line.

"Oh my god I'm going to fold you like a pretzel"

It's so abrupt and silly and just so Eddie that you can't help but laugh, dropping your head. His lips skim your forehead and he laughs too, both of you holding each other, locked in a giggle fit until it tapers and subsides.

When you do look back up the heat that had been there before his gaffe returns tenfold. "Maybe leave the dirty talk to me", you place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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wisp-the-specter · 7 months ago

Note

hii do you have any book or music recommendations 😁

HI HI SRRY FOR SUCH A LATE RESPONSE, MY PHONE DIED AND I COULDNT CHARGE IT UNTIL NOW ;-;

my musical taste is all over the place but i rlly like vocaloid, specifically vane lily and pinocchio-p!! a non vocaloid artist i rlly like tho is will wood :3

for recommendations i could maybe share some of my fave songs/songs i’ve been listening to lately??

-Suburbia Overture (Will Wood)

-Willard! (Will Wood)

-BUTCHER VANITY (Vane)

-Pitter-Patter (Vane)

-Magical Girl and Chocolate (PinocchioP)

-Reincarnation Apple (PinocchioP)

-The Good Child and the Fox Spirit (Kikuo)

-Pathological Facade (Ghost and Pals)

-End-World Normpathy (Ghost and Pals)

-Fly, My wings (Mili)

-String Theocracy (Mili)

-The Woods (San Fermin)

-Enchanté (Dirt Poor Robins)

TBH THERES A LOT MORE I COULD LIST BUT I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE THE LIST TO LONG (>_>”)

#wisp’s asks n answers

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 4 months ago

Text

ricochet l Javier Peña

Summary: you shouldn't sleep with a coworker who also irritates you so much

Warnings: +18, smut, angst, swearing, fingering, sex without protection (don’t do that!), guns, shooting, violence

A/N: this is my first story for javier. please be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

A loud knock echoed through your apartment and it was it that woke you up. You reached for the clock lying on the nightstand and groaned quietly. It was almost two in the morning, not the best time for visits. However, the knocking didn’t stop and eventually you had to drag yourself out of bed.

On your way to the door you turned on the lamp in the living room and soon turned the key.

"What the fuck, Javi?" you hissed seeing a familiar face on the other side "Do you know what time it is?"

"Perfect for a visit to such a beautiful woman." he replied, leaning nonchalantly against your door, his dark eyes running down your body dressed only in shorts and a top "I was wondering what you wear to sleep, hermosa. So, naked only next to me?"

"You're drunk." you stated, crossing your arms over your chest "Jesus, did you really have to come here?"

"There's no better place. Can I come in?"

Javier didn't wait for an answer, he just passed you in the doorway and finally sat down on your couch. You watched as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and soon you smelled the pungent smell of smoke.

"Why did you come?" you asked, approaching him with resignation. "Can't you get to your apartment by yourself?"

He took a drag on his cigarette and a wisp of smoke escaped from between his lips. He had time. Drunk Javier Peña always had time, and he liked to spend it the most on teasing you. Testing your limits was his passion, even when sober.

You made one serious mistake. A mistake that shouldn't be made with a coworker.

Some time ago, you slept with Javier when you were both celebrating someone's birthday. You were drunk, and so was he.

He seemed so charming and seductive then. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you what you could do together if you just left that hole in the wall. His large hand rested on your thigh, slowly moving higher and higher.

So you went to your apartment and you did it. Not once. Three times, to be honest.

After that, you thought everything would go back to normal. You'd be back at your desk in the office, working together to take down the Medellín Cartel and everything would be like it used to be.

You couldn't have been more wrong.

Your verbal fights were becoming more and more frequent and sometimes it was only Murphy who was able to send you back to your corners. Recently, Peña outdid himself when he wanted to forbid you from going with the team to arrest a larger group of people.

And at that very moment, he was sitting drunk in your living room, completely unconcerned about anything.

"I missed you, dulce." (sweet) he groaned looking at you with tenderness "I've been wondering all evening why you're so mean to me..."

"Mean?!" you repeated after him snorting.

"...and haughty. I thought that after such a good fuck you should be much nicer to me."

Your jaw dropped to the floor. You didn't feel like sleeping anymore, but your blood pressure was quickly rising.

"Javier, what the fuck are you talking about!" you finally choked out “I should be nicer? You treat me like some secretary, but we should work together as a team. Besides... Fuck! I'm not going to talk to you about this now! Go back to your place. You're drunk."

Javier stubbed out his cigarette in the glass ashtray lying on the coffee table and stood up slowly approaching you. His dark eyes bored through you and you felt uncomfortable at that moment.

"I know you don't mean it, hermosa." he said in a quiet but firm voice "I know you'd like to feel my cock inside you again. And do you wanna know how I know that?" he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear "I can still taste your pussy on my tongue. The sweetest I've ever had. Addictive."

A shiver ran down your spine straight to your core, but you didn't let it show. You couldn't let him win.

Yes! Of course you were thinking back to that night, but Javier was so sure of himself that you would never admit it.

"Get out." you replied seeing a sly smile appearing under his mustache.

"Are you scared because I told the truth?"

"I'm not scared, Peña. I'm not one of your hookers that you can come to whenever your pants get too tight. Get out."

Still smiling he passed you, gently nudging your shoulder and soon you heard the door slam shut.

Fucking Javier Peña.

The next day at the office, you both pretended that nothing had happened. You focused on your work, not even looking up when Peña and Murphy showed up.

The day passed with paperwork and drinking a dozen cups of coffee. The thought of going to a night meeting with one of the informants was not something you were excited to do, especially since you didn't get a good night's sleep last night, but you didn't want to give it up.

When the office slowly started to empty, you took your walkman out of the drawer, slid in the cassette that you got from the colleague at the desk next to you and soon closed your eyes, hoping for a moment of rest before leaving.

Music quietly resounded in your ears. You sat comfortably in the chair, resting your legs on the desk and tried to restart your brain.

This work was exhausting, but with each subsequent arrest you felt more and more proud of what you were doing. You were far from achieving your goals, but maybe soon...

Your heavy desk shook strangely, and after a second someone slid your headphones off your ears.

"Don't sleep during shift!"

Javier sat down on some of your papers, completely unconcerned that he had knocked a few files to the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, turning the box from your cassette over in his fingers.

"I got this. From Bradley. Could you?" you held out your hand for him to give you what was yours, but Javier had no intention of doing so yet.

"Did he make you a compilation of some romantic shit?" he snorted. "I don't want to worry you, sweetie, but Mr. Bradley definitely wants to get into your panties."

"Why do you think I'm worried about that?"

"Because you deserve more." he put the box on your outstretched hand.

"Oh! You mean someone like you?" you raised your eyebrows, trying not to laugh. "Maybe I prefer nice guys, Peña."

"I'm nice guy, hermosa." He unceremoniously reached for your cup of cold coffee and took a few sips. "You're the only one who doesn't want to admit that you have a wet patch in your panties just by the sight of me."

"I won't be the one to boost your already too high ego, babe." You replied, sliding your legs off the desk. "You're doing it yourself perfectly well. Did you come to tease me or do you have some business?"

His smile disappeared and Javier frowned. Yes, he had a business.

"I heard you were going to meet the informant right away. I thought I could replace you."

"Why?" You frowned, surprised by his proposal.

Javier looked away from you as if he was looking for the right words.

"It's just a bad neighborhood, you know. I don't want you to go there alone." He finally replied.

"I'll be with Bradley, so what could happen?"

"Bradley? Jesus, really?" he automatically reached for a cigarette, but didn't light it, just rolled it in his long fingers "In that case, I'll go with you instead of him."

"No." you shook your head "You can't keep interfering in my work. He's my informant, and a stranger will only scare him."

"Bullshit!"

"I won't discuss this with you." you stated, standing up and picking up your bag "If you have a problem with me, go to the boss. But don't tell me what I can and can't do."

You noticed Bradley calling you to the door and you headed towards him, still feeling Javier's gaze on you.

"Y/N!" his voice sounded like a gunshot in the now empty office, you looked in his direction "Be careful."

"Have you seen Y/L/M today?"

Murphy looked at his friend in surprise. He looked around the office, but he didn't see a familiar face anywhere.

"Wasn't she supposed to meet with an informant yesterday?" he asked, returning his gaze to the documents he held in his hand. "She probably overslept."

"Y/N never did it." Javier mumbled, quickly glancing towards the opening door as if he was counting on seeing you there.

"Maybe she's already gone home. We spent a few hours out of town. Maybe you should just call her or go over to her place. By the way, why are you so interested?"

"Fuck off."

Murphy smiled as he saw Javier reach for the phone and dial a number. However, after a few rings, he hung up, disappointed.

"Nothing?"

Peña shook his head.

"Hey! Have you seen Bradley?" he called out to the employee who was sitting near your desk.

"Not today." he replied "I think he took the day off."

"And agent Y/L/N?"

"Same here."

"Office romance?" Steve smiled looking at Javier, but he didn't seem calmer. "We were going to leave anyway so why don't you just go to her, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll do that." he nodded.

But even though he showed up at your door and knocked for a long time, no one opened it. Javier felt a strange knot in his stomach, something like a bad feeling, although he preferred not to think about it.

He already felt like an idiot. He didn't know why he came and why he cared so much. Javier had known you for almost two years and it was quite an interesting acquaintance.

He would never admit it openly, but he loved teasing you, and at the same time he respected your professionalism very much. You never ran away from hard work, even if it meant working late at night.

He liked watching you work in the field or at your desk. He knew how you drink your coffee and that you take your shoes off under your desk when you do paperwork.

Peña was a man of flesh and blood, he could appreciate the beauty of women and had a weakness for them. And somehow you didn't have a weakness for him. Maybe that was what attracted him to you?

"And? Have you seen her?"

Javier shook his head, taking the cigarette out of his mouth "I was there, but the apartment seems empty."

"Have you asked the neighbors?" Murphy sat down at his desk "These old grannies often know a lot more."

"They haven't seen her in two days." unexpectedly Peña frowned and craned his neck, spotting someone in the distance "Is that fucking Bradley?"

Murphy spun around in his chair "Yeah, that's him. But somehow... Peña!"

But the man was already heading towards Bradley. The man had not yet managed to get to his desk when it stopped in front of him.

"Hi. Did you see..." but suddenly he saw something that worried him even more "What happened to your face?"

"Someone beat you up?" Steve asked approaching them "What the fuck?"

"Where's Y/N?" Javier immediately interjected.

Bradley looked at both men a little confused. There was a yellow bruise under his eye, and a cut was visible on his lower lip, he also looked a little sore.

"It happened after that meeting with the informant." he mumbled, pointing to his face "Y/N and I ran into some bad company."

"What about her?" Javier was already clearly worried.

"I don't know..."

"What?!" Peña raised his voice so much that Steve had to put a hand on his shoulder trying to calm him down "You were there with her! What the fuck happened?"

"I told you! We left the meeting. We were about to go to the car when a few guys stopped us. They were hitting on Y/N. We got into a discussion and when it turned out that I am a cop..."

Peña felt like something heavy had fallen into his stomach. A thousand visions of what could have happened were flashing through his mind.

However, Bradley continued "We had a bit of a fight. After everything was over I took Y/N to the hospital, but she didn't want me to stay with her so I went to my place."

"You left her there alone, you idiot?!" Javier growled.

"She's not a child! She told me to fuck off, what was I supposed to do?!" Bradley was already furious too "Go to her if you fucking care about her so much!"

"I'll do it!"

A knock on the door echoed throughout the hallway again. An older woman poked her head out of one of the apartments and for a moment watched the black-haired man knocking on the door of the young woman she sometimes saw.

"Y/N! I know you're there!" Javier finally announced towards the closed door "If you don't open it, I'll come here with a whole strike force! You don't want a fucking mess here, do you? Open this fucking door!"

He put his ear to the door and was sure he heard movement behind it. You had to be there.

"Y/N... please." he added a little calmer "It's me."

After a dozen or so long seconds, he heard the key turn in the lock and the door opened, letting some light into the dark hallway. Javier wasn't ready for what he saw.

He felt like his heart had broken into a million pieces at the sight of your face. Your eyes were red, probably from crying. There was also a bruised cheek and an ugly cut lower lip, and with each passing moment he noticed more and more.

"Hi." your quiet voice was barely audible where he stood "I took a few days off. Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone..." Apart from you.

"I noticed." he mumbled "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and Javier slipped inside, closing it carefully behind him. The room was dimly lit, a few lamps and a few candles were lit. He noticed the curtains being drawn, as if you wanted to hide from the whole world.

"Would you like to..." you didn't finish, because his hand grabbed your chin lightly.

Peña directed your face towards the nearest light source. You saw the glow reflected in his eyes, which were carefully studying you. He let out a quiet breath when he noticed the bruises on your neck, as if a man's hand had left a mark. A few scratches on your arms.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Javier, please..." you whimpered, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, it was too painful for you, too intimate.

"Tell me. Please, hermosa.” He wasn't ordering, he was begging you. He was asking you to trust him.

You clumsily grabbed the edge of your shirt and lifted it, showing him the bruises on your side. His breath caught in his lungs.

"They're not broken." You said as warm fingers brushed your skin. "I had an X-ray. It just looks that awful. And it hurts a little."

"Did they... Did they do anything more?"

You knew perfectly well what Peña meant. You lowered your shirt.

"No." You shook your head and he wiped his mouth with his hand. "They talked about it, but... No, nothing more."

"Thank God."

You didn't know what to say. Tears filled your eyes and after a moment you felt his strong arms hug you to his chest. You snuggled into him, sobbing quietly. You felt his hands as he stroked your hair and back, trying not to cause any more pain.

"It's okay, hermosa.” he said quietly, kissing your forehead. "You're safe. You should have called me. You know I would have come right away."

"I didn't want to bother you, besides, it's just bruises..."

"But I want you to bother me. If something happened to you... Fuck! Would you be able to recognize them?"

"I don't know, I don't think so..." you moved away from him and sat down carefully on the couch. "I don't want to go back to this, Javier. I'll be back at work in a few days... We've gathered new information..."

"Fuck this whole cartel! Fuck Escobar!" he growled. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror?!"

"I see myself all the time. And I assure you, today I look really good."

He shook his head in disbelief. You looked so much like him. Peña seemed to be starting to understand why he was pissing you off so much.

"I know what you're thinking and I don't want you to do this." You finally spoke up, his watchful gaze settling on your face. "You're not going to be running around the streets looking for those guys now. That's not your job, Javier. There are more important things."

"You're important!" he hissed, pointing a finger at you. "I should go to Bradley and kick his ass. And then find those fucking guys and do to them what they did to you."

"But you're not going anywhere and you're not going to do anything." You saw him thrashing around like a beast in a cage. Javier Peña was demanding blood and revenge. "Listen, I knew what I was getting into when I came here. It could have been worse. I could have been raped by a few and ended up in some ditch on the outskirts of town."

"Sweet Jesus Christ!" Peña groaned "This is no time for such jokes!"

"I'm not joking." Now you were standing too, ready to face him "The bruises will heal, and we're here for something more. You can yell at me, you know I can take it. But you have to focus on our work!"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He quickly lit the first one and inhaled the smoke. He knew you were right. He would tell you the same thing if he was standing in your place.

Finally, he nodded, admitting you were right, and a faint smile of relief appeared on your face.

"But from now on, you'll be riding with me to and from work. I don't accept any objections!"

Getting back to work turned out to be easier than you thought. The information you had gathered helped you track down the nearest smuggling operation and the entire unit was preparing for new arrests. You had been putting in long hours at work, so Javier's offer to drive you home really suited you.

Although at first glance your contacts hadn't changed, you had noticed that he had become much calmer when he had his eye on you. You had caught him looking around the office more than once, searching for you. You had smiled and shaken your head reproachfully when he had winked at you.

However, all of that had gone to hell an hour before you had to leave to stop the transfer. Murphy had found you arguing fiercely by the car and it had taken him a while to figure out what you were on about.

"Peña's gone crazy!" you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest, "He doesn't want me to go with you! I'm the one who got that fucking information!"

"They're going to shoot there, loca!" (crazy) he growled with his hands on his hips.

"Oh! I thought we were going on a fucking picnic!"

"Maybe Y/N should wear a vest, she'll be close to us." Murphy butted in, not afraid of his friend's angry glare.

"That's an idea!" you replied pleased with Steve’s words "I'll take the fucking vest! Will you be happy then, Peña?"

"Not really." he grumbled "You have to stay close to me."

"But not too close." you added getting into his car.

"Close!" he growled, slamming the door.

He didn't like the idea, and he didn't like Murphy standing by your side even more. The whole way out of town he clenched his fingers tightly on the steering wheel. He would feel much calmer if you stayed in the office, but you didn't listen to him again. You were already leaving the forest when he reached into the backseat and threw a green bulletproof vest on your lap.

You rolled your eyes, but Peña ignored it.

"Put it on."

So you followed his order and then stayed close. However, neither of you were ready for what was happening. The group of smugglers turned out to be larger and soon the shooting began.

You dodged the bullets by hiding behind the wall of the building. A dozen or so members of the strike team passed you. You went after them, seeing Peña's back in the distance. You spotted the first arrestees, and Murphy was throwing some trucks out from behind the wheel.

"Y/L/N!"

You noticed Peña calling you and went towards him when you heard a gunshot. Something hit you in the chest and you staggered, but after a moment you saw Javier aiming at some guy behind a nearby building. More shots were fired

"Hey!" Steve ran up to you "Is something... Fuck!"

"Vest." You mumbled in surprise, feeling a hole under your fingers "The bullet must have bounced off something..."

Suddenly, Javier appeared next to you. Dark sweaty locks stuck to his forehead, a mixture of rage and fear was painted in his eyes.

"I saw you got hit!" he growled.

"She had a vest on!" Steve replied quickly "She's fine!"

"Fuck! I told you to stay!"

"It was a ricochet!" you replied furiously "I'm fine!"

"You were supposed to be close!" Peña retorted "To the car! I'm taking you back!"

"But I..."

However, he had already grabbed your arm tightly pulling you towards the car. You stumbled on the way, but he didn't even slow down. He forced you inside and slammed the door shut.

"Not a word!" he growled, threatening you with his finger as soon as you opened your mouth.

Soon he started the engine and you drove off abruptly. You drove out from between the buildings, heading down the road through the forest. You could feel how furious Javier was and you were angry at him yourself. He treated you like an intern, just because you were a woman.

"Are you going to stay silent the whole way?" you growled looking at his clenched jaw and deeply heaving chest "Fine! At least I don't have to listen to your bullshit!"

The car suddenly pulled onto a side road and stopped. In an instant Peña turned towards you. His dark eyes were focused on you, he looked like he wanted to tear you into a thousand pieces. Before you could say anything he ripped off your vest. You saw the relief on his face when he saw that you were indeed not injured.

"Fucking ricochet!" he hissed "You're so fucking stubborn! So annoying!"

"You're no better!" you replied "Just because I'm a woman you treat me like..."

You didn't finish. His hand grabbed the back of your neck and forcefully pulled you to him, your lips crushed hard.

It was full of teeth and fighting between you. But you didn't back down when his tongue pushed between your lips. On the contrary, your hand moved to his crotch where you could feel how hard he was.

You knew what he wanted, you wanted the same. You didn't protest when he quickly started to unbutton your pants. Your lips parted only for a moment to free your legs and then you sat on his lap, struggling with his zipper.

"So disobedient." he hissed through his teeth "You'll be the death of me someday."

"I'm not sure which of us will finish the other off first." you mumbled "But it's only a matter of time."

His hard cock came out and you knew you wouldn't last if you didn't feel him inside you right away. You felt his long fingers slide over your folds.

"So wet already?" Peña purred and a sly smile appeared under his mustache "I knew it, hermosa. You have a soft spot for me."

"Maybe I just want to fuck you?" you replied, one of his fingers slipping inside you.

"That's for sure!" his eyes were fixed on the spot where his hand was moving "You were rubbing that sexy ass of yours all over the office. Just waiting for me to put my cock in you one more time."

"Don't forget, you're the one who came to me trying to get into my bed again." you sighed, your hand rubbing his cock, a little precum glistening on his red tip.

"But I don't deny that I have a weakness for you, hermosa.”

His hand withdrew and he gripped your hips tightly to position you just above his manhood. His tip slid over your entrance a few times, then slid in in one swift movement.

The air escaped your lungs and your head fell back against Javier's forehead as you closed your eyes. His cock stretched you wonderfully, reaching so deep inside you. But you didn't want to wait any longer.

His hands squeezed your hips as you began to move up and down. In each thrust you felt all the stress and anger that filled you, but lust followed right behind it. The car filled with your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

"So good, hermosa. You're so tight, so good for me..." Javier whispered, his voice darker than usual "I've wanted to be back in that pussy for so long. Fuck! I'd take you on the fucking desk so everyone could see how good you take me."

You felt a slap on your ass, but it only made the excitement in your core grow. Peña's cock hit exactly the spot you wanted. He could do anything to you then.

"Jesus, right there..." you moaned "I'm so close!"

"That's good! You'll take everything I give you, right?" he began to press you harder against his hips "I knew that pussy was missing me, hermosa.”

"You're a bastard, Peña." you groaned "Fucking bastard."

"With the best cock you've ever had, right? I'm sure no one has ever fucked you like I have. C'mon, chica! Give it to me! I want to hear you come!"

"Javier, please..."

"Oh, you'll beg me again soon." His lips sucked on your neck below the collar of your shirt, leaving a mark on it. A mark that Javier Peña had you. "I'll fuck you so hard all night long that you won't be able to walk properly. Everyone in the office will know who owns this pussy!"

"Fuck!"

The velvet walls trembled and tightened around his cock as a spasm of pleasure spread through your body. You dug your nails into his shoulders, moaning loudly as you came. Javier was right behind you.

He thrust a few more times and came, spilling inside you. He breathed deeply, resting his head against the headrest. His dark eyes watched you lazily, you felt his hands running over your aching thighs.

"We should get back to the office." you finally spoke up. "Murphy will be there soon."

"You're probably right." he replied, his tongue licking his dry lips.

You slid off him, feeling his cum running down your thighs. However, you slipped into your panties and pants, trying to get yourself in order. The engine started.

Suddenly, you felt Javier's arm leaning against your seat, and when you looked up, you saw his face turned towards you. You couldn't decipher what was going on in his head.

"I really meant what I said." he declared, smiling slightly. "I have a soft spot for you, mujer loca.(crazy woman) And it will kill me someday."

"I don't know if I can make that happen, Javier." you replied, your hand tightened on his thigh. "You're worse than the cockroaches in our office's basement." he shook his head in disbelief "And that's why you were so tense and angry lately, huh? Your pants must have been really tight if you were still hard at the sight of me."

"Sweet as always." he snorted, laughing.

He leaned down and his lips touched yours again. But now he kissed you tenderly, exploring your mouth with his tongue, drawing from you the sweet moans he loved so much.

You were his death, the sweetest he had ever known.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#javier peña #pedro pascal #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #narcos #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #joel miller

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allur1ngs · 1 year ago

Text

✮ the glasses stay on✮

tw: unedited, smut, oral--r!receiving, possessive!bada, a bit of jealous!bada, bada's a teeny bit mean (not rlly she says sorry right after), bada wears her glasses while she eats you out, bada eats it through your panties and uses your panties to get you off, pussy slapping...., panty stealing, sex in bada's office & on her desk, ass grabbing, risky sex--possibility of getting caught

a/n: ib this and this ask, this one has a bit of an intro before going straight into the smut, and once again i'm telling everyone to say ty to my wife @bebeyue bcs without her motivation i would not be writing this😚🩷

Tick tick ticking, every second that passes by winds into an endless staircase of lost time. Bada stares down at her Cartier wristwatch with a mix of distain and guilt.

The hour hand on the clock reminds her that it's five in the afternoon, and she's completed little-to-none of the high-stacking papers in front of her. Truly, it's not Bada's fault. Although she can usually sit in her office and read documents for hours on end with little difficulty--beyond the annoyance that settles in after the third or fourth hour--for some reason, today she simply can't will herself to pick up her black and gold fountain pen, and read or sign any paperwork.

"Something's off." She thinks to herself, slowly picking her gaze up from her watch and staring at the blotted black words in front of her. "There's something I can't seem to get my mind off of, but at the same time I don't know what I'm thinking about--"

Like divine and heavenly intervention, the answer comes to her in the form of a beautiful woman entering her office...you.

"Hope I'm not interrupting you." You quietly creep into Bada's office, with a smile. Your eyes, which had only swept over her quickly when you entered, now take in her full figure, which surprises you.

Rather than wearing her normal black suit jacket and tie, she's wearing a light blue button-up shirt with red and blue stripes running across it, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail braid, wisps of her long side bangs frame her face, making her face shape look sharper.

"You're looking extra good today." You comment, walking up to Bada's desk with your hands behind your back.

"Oh," your fiancée breathes, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate, Her eyes are fixated on your outfit, which is a cute blouse and a short skirt. The lack of fabric allows her to eye the creamy skin of your legs with a hungry gaze. "Thank you. I noticed it was hot in the morning so I decided to wear a looser shirt."

"Well I love it." You say cheekily. Walking around Bada's desk, she immediately scoots her chair back, making space for you to stand in front of her. "I brought you something, by the way."

Your words make Bada look up at you, to which you take your hands from behind your back and open your palm, revealing a pair of silver-framed aviator glasses.

"I couldn't find your usual glasses--"

"I broke them while out on a mission." Bada gives you a sheepish look.

"That explains it then." You laugh. "But that doesn't give you an excuse to not wear your glasses."

"I'm sorry." Bada pouts. She takes her spare glasses from the palm of your hand and puts them on, then suddenly wraps her arms around waist and pulls you into her, pushing her head into your midsection.

You let out an instinctive gasp, but place your hands on top of her head nevertheless.

"Let me make it up to you?" She mumbles into your shirt, dragging her hands from your waist to your ass, grabbing them roughly before she gives them a squeeze.

"Bada--" You exclaim, surprised at her lustful behavior. "Where is this coming from--?"

"I can't focus on my work." Your fiancée huffs. She starts to grope at your ass more, pressing her head against your stomach even more. "Especially not now that you've walked in with this short skirt."

Bada suddenly pulls her head from your midsection, but moves her hands back to your hips to keep you at an arm's length distance. She bunches up the fabric of your skirt, slowly raising it farther and farther up your thigh, until the bottom of your skirt just barely covers your panty-covered pussy.

You take in a sharp breath, your body reacting to her touch by shivering.

"Did you wear this on purpose?" Bada hums, toying with your skirt but never completely flipping it upward...yet.

"Like you said, it's hot." You whisper, placing your hands on her shoulders. "I wanted to wear something fresher."

"But did you have to wear such a short skirt?" Bada looks up at you, smirking as she finally flips up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your panties, which are noticeably damp. "Oh, what's this?" She says, her voice low and cocky. She drags her finger up and down your slit, making more slick pool against the lace of your panties.

"Bada...we shouldn't." You whisper, but your body and heart betrays you. You start to roll your hips against your fiancée's fingers, hoping to get more pressure against your pussy.

"I don't know, it looks like you want it." Bada cocks her head to the side, hearing the way your breath hitches when she moves her fingers along your panties. "Do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you here, in my office, when any of the girls could walk in and see us?"

You gasp at her words, glancing at the door instinctively...but you don't stop grinding your hips against her digits.

Bada watches you with amused dark brown eyes. She huffs a laugh, "Do you like that idea? You want to get caught by the girls and let them see how promiscuous you are?"

You hesitate to answer, far too embarrassed to speak your mind--

"Say something." Bada pulls her fingers away from pussy, staring up at you with domineering look.

"...I--I don't want to get caught." You breathe, lies staining your tongue.

"Really?" Bada's voice pitches upwards in doubt. "Are you lying to me?"

You look away from your fiancée in shame. "N--"

"You know I don't like it when you lie." Bada suddenly uses her strength to push you down on her spread legs, making you let out a surprised noise. "But either way, it doesn't matter. I won't let anyone see you like this, whether you want them to or not."

She takes ahold of your legs and makes sure they're wound tightly around her waist. She starts to drag her chair closer to her desk until your ass is against it, then she pushes you down until your back lays on the desk.

Bada looks down at you, splayed across her desk like an angel--a sinful, debauched angel--but an angel no less. Her mind, which had once been foggy immediately clears into one single, concise thought. "I need her."

Bada leans down to capture your lips in a heated, and passionate dance. It's all tongue--your teeth clash against each other as your fiancée swirls her tongue against yours. At the same time, she pulls at your shirt, only breaking away from your lips to rasp out, "Take it off," in a demanding tone.

You stare into her eyes for a split second before you sit up, taking the ends of your shirt, lifting it upward, and off of you. You're left in only a bra, which makes Bada hiss in satisfaction.

She presses another kiss on your lips, laying you back down on the desk once again, before she begins her descent downwards.

Bada moves under your skirt, and hoping to give her more access you try to remove it, but she immediately stops you.

"Don't." She says, using one of her hands to pin down both of yours. "I like it." She smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers and rubbing it. "You look so pretty in it."

You don't fight against your fiancée, you allow her to touch you through your panties, cruelly giving you the mildest amount of pleasure so that you release slick, but aren't satisfied.

"Bada, you're being mean." You huff, wrapping your legs around her head in hopes of pushing her head closer to your cunt.

"I know." She says cheekily. "But you lied to me, so I think I'm going to have some fun with you."

And have fun she does.

Bada latches her mouth onto your panty-covered pussy in a sudden surge forward. She laps her tongue up and down your slit, just barely rubbing against your clit which makes you let out a loud, blissful sigh and half moan.

She rubs her nose against your folds--the combination of glass and silver frames of her aviators are cold--the temperature difference in comparison to your hot pussy makes it clench around nothing. Bada quickly flattens her tongue as she continues to practically slobber all over your panties. Your juices and her saliva ruin the lace, making them a sopping wet mess.

You start to let out increasingly loud moans, even the simplest of Bada's touches making you cry out for more.

"You're being so loud." She mumbles into your pussy. The words rumble against your skin, which gives you muffled pleasure. "I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught."

You toss your head to the side, looking away from her. "I-I don't."

"There you go again." Bada tuts. She pulls away from your pussy and grabs the edges of your panties. She brings both sides together, creating a thin line of lace that she uses to rub against your clit. The action gives you a delicious amount of pleasure, your mouth falling open as a loud moan leaves your lips. "Do you enjoy lying to me?"

Up and down she moves the lace, using her fingers to separate your folds so she can properly see the way your pussy clenches, pulses, and releases endless amounts of slick.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?" Her tone takes a stern pitch, the sound of it making you wetter, but at the same time nervous.

"No." You protest, shaking your head side to side. "Please--"

Bada's strong composure shatters at your whines. She can't help but wear a fond smile as she looks down at you, small tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes. "Don't cry, honey." She cooes, placing her thumb under your eyes to wipe away to clear droplets. "I'm sorry baby, I'm not mad at you. I'll make you feel good--always."

You sniffle a bit, but start to steady your breathing--wide eyes blown as you turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of her hand, silently saying, "I know."

Bada gives you one last fond look before she drags her nose down your stomach, until she reaches that sweet spot between your legs. Mesmerized, she leans down to collect your juices, moving your panties completely to the side to give her unencumbered access to your cunt. She presses her mouth up against it, her glasses bumping into the hood pussy. You watch with bated breath as she once again flattens her hot tongue, giving you one long lick before she dives right in.

Bada moves her head side to side along with her tongue, rubbing your clit deliciously. She catches the skin of your lips and sensually pulls them, then sucks hard on your pussy like it's a lollipop.

"Bada," you somehow manage to choke through your heaving breaths.

She hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine and throughout your entire body.

"Your glasses."

"What about them?" She says, briefly breaking away from your pussy.

"You're going to break them--" looking downward, you would have been able to see your fiancée is staring at you through the hoods of her eyes--her gaze is unwavering, confident, and hypnotic.

But you can't see her eyes because her silver aviator glasses are foggy. They're entirely marked with perspiration, Bada's hot breaths catching against the sticky glass and clinging to it like a lifeline.

Still, as alluring and sensual that image is, the nail in the coffin is the globs of your juices dripping from the edge of Bada's glasses. They come together around the middle of the frames until they make a large dot, then drop down onto your fiancée's pink lips, where she quickly darts her tongue out to lick your saccharine slick into her mouth.

"The glasses stay on." She asserts, giving you one last, unseeable look before she attaches her lips onto your pussy again.

It's ridiculous, really. If you're unable to see Bada's eyes through her glasses, then they were entirely useless sitting on the bridge of her nose--she most likely couldn't even see through them.

But nevertheless, she fucks her tongue into you, drives it in and out of your hole, licks and swirls your clit into her mouth until you're screaming in pleasure, her glasses foggy dripping with your essence as she makes you cum.

Sucking on you one last time, Bada finally pulls away at the sound of your broken whines. She lets out a long breath, a smile instantly forming on her lips as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away the remnants of your orgasm from her lips. She licks it all up like it's a valuable liquid--the elixir of life.

Only then does she take her glasses off--well, she hangs them from the unbuttoned collar of her shirt--as she leans forward, giving your cunt an affectionate slap.

You let out a cute "ouch!" then glare at your fiancée, who only laughs in response.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." She says sweetly.

"I think you could have." You huff, moving to sit up from Bada's desk.

She chuckles under her breath, before quickly taking ahold of your panties and slipping them off your legs. "Thank you for that." She grins. "I think I can finally focus."

You can't help but laugh as well, "Okay, I'll get going then." You hold out your hand and give Bada an expectant look.

She only stares at you with a cheeky smile. "What?"

You furrow your eyebrows and push out your hand further. "My panties?"

"Oh, these?" Bada holds up your lace panties, her saliva and a mixture of your cum making it wad together into a dripping mess. "I think I'll keep them." She suddenly shoves them into her pocket, completely unbothered by the fact that they'll surely dampen the fabric.

"Bada!" You exclaim, your mouth falling open in shock.

"What, you wanted to wear them?" She smirks. "They're ruined." Taking a step forward, she looms over your figure still perched on her desk, and leans in to speak right into the shell of your ear. "Come find me in a few hours after I've finished my work, and maybe I'll think about giving them back."

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight, @badasoneandonly @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy, @badasgff, @mikaleialt, @tthe-dark-ssoul, @m0r0s1111, @phoxey, @taruusmoon, @lovebtsforever24, @moonsvrse

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it (or be removed from it), and i'll do so immediately!

#bada lee x reader #bada lee x reader smut #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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astralnymphh · 6 months ago

Note

can yoy do ellie massaging you after you've had a long day of work? (i love your fics btw)

⋆˚✿˖° literally eager to do it at every hour of the day. but after the utmost grueling hours of your day, she makes it her job to soothe you. well— provided that she sneaks in a couple (lie) neck kisses alongside those massages. love is a grandeur thing ellie cannot hold herself from, even in the most mundane moments. i guess. try to explain anything to her and she'll get distracted.

silky smooches are laid behind the caress of her fingers, trickling up your shoulders slowly. her hands are good in practice—but that dork has an affinity for distraction, an impulsive mouth. the question is: are you the object of her distraction, or is it her own brain? it particularly takes over in whispers puffed against your neck. “you wanna—” kiss. “tell me—” another kiss. “'bout your day? could use a distraction right now.” and another.

“are you sure you aren't already distracted?” quickly, a smart remark leaves your mouth. a spry use of tongue to masquerade those sighs of easement when her fingers press circles into the base of your neck. you feel her breath graze you, “psh— shut up,” and the heat of her 'shut up' brand into your skin. softened by a punctual kiss thereafter. “thats the point.”

you're unsure on why you even thought to ask, “you're such'a idiot.” because you could only sweep aside her stupid response and stretch your neck out for her; indulging. “'love that about you, though.” sneaking in a compliment, since you know how cherry-flushed they get her. such a sucker for love. “mhm?” ellie hums, warming it through a kiss to your jaw. “last time you talked me up about how smart i am. which is it, babe?” suddenly, her hands were defiant, and roamed your body where 'mundane massages' take place the least; pawing at the plush of your thigh so innocently (another lie), a knowing grin curling at your nape. “cuz' it can't be both..” the tip of her nose is pushing into you, poking for answer.

“i think you choose when to be smart n' when to be an idiot. idiot more often, obviously.” those knuckles bending and pressing into your thigh pause for a glance, followed up by an offended laugh from her, a brief snort coming from her nose. “obviously? obviously? you dick..” ellie is definitely blushing her ass off right now. but her hands resume almost instantaneously, and so do her antsy lips. knuckles flexing into your skin, lips nipping little wisps of skin and suckling.

ellie just couldn't handle being mean to you back—only spare kisses of forgiveness, and let you breathe in every compulsive grope of your thighs, hands making way across every inch of your body. cherishing the way you just melt into her palms. “that feel good? hmhm—know it does.” pride painting her lips at each mewl she can strum from you.

whoops got a little excited there at the end 💜 @/elliestattooo on pinterest for the pic.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #✮─── . aestra's bibliotheca #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elliewilliams #tlou ellie #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #girlfriend!ellie #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams imagine

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phoward89 · 7 months ago

Text

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Soft!Dom!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, Cuckold, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child

Part 2:

Your son Cassian Xandros was the spitting image of his father; his grandfather too. But nobody knew that. Mhm… Everyone thought that Coriolanus was the big half-brother and that Crassus was the proud father.

And that's the way it's going to be.

It's best for everyone involved.

And after Crassus arrived to visit you in the hospital after you gave birth, he ended up ordering his son to go to the University’s library to study and to work on whatever class assignments he missed out on. Coriolanus begrudgingly did as he was told; leaving you and Crassus alone with baby Cassian.

Alone to bond as a family.

Ha! As if…You'd rather be bonding with Coryo and Cassian right now, but you're married to Crassus. So you're stuck having a family moment with him.

Crassus picked Cassian up from the bassinet Coriolanus had put him back in, only to cradle the newborn while taking a seat in the open chair next to you. Looking between you and your son, your husband asked, “Has your mother seen him yet?”

“No.” You shake your head. “But Coriolanus called her as soon as Cassian was born tho.”

Crassus didn't make a remark about your mother being MIA, but he did have a disapproving glare in his cold pale blue eyes. “Has my mother been here to see her grandson?” The war hero asks, assuming that Coriolanus would've arranged for Tigris to bring Grandma'am to the hospital hours ago.

“No, but Coriolanus said that he'd bring her by to meet Cassian.”

“How? The sniveling brat doesn't have a car; he walks everywhere.” The stern man asks in a biting scoff. Cutting down his oldest son (like he always did).

“I know that, Crassus.” You dryly sigh. “I assume he meant to bring her by in a cab.” You logically supply while watching Crassus smooth his large hand over your son's wisp of pale blonde hair.

Standing up and placing the baby in your arms, he told you, “You need to nurse him; I'll go pick up my mother and bring her here.” The cold, giant blonde man’s mouth turned up at the corners with pride. “She'll be happy to know that our son looks like a true Snow heir.”

Before going to your penthouse to pick up Grandma'am, Crassus went to your childhood home to see your mother. He had a few choice words about her not visiting you and the baby in the hospital after Coriolanus called. Helenium’s your mother, she's supposed to visit you and Cassian, her grandson.

What kind of grandmother snubs their own newborn grandson?

“Crassus Snow, why am I being cursed with your presence on my threshold?” Helenium asked your husband, cigarette holder dangling between her fingers, after answering her front door.

Crassus, who was well over 6ft tall, towers over your mother as he dryly remarks, “That's not any way to speak to your son-in-law.”

Your mother wasn't in a mood to stand around and chit chat with your husband. Glaring at Crassus, your mother reminds him of why he's even your husband in the first place. “You're only my son-in-law as a favor to Javani, your dead war buddy and my late husband.”

Crassus didn’t find Helenium's remark to be amusing. He didn't go out searching for your hand in marriage. In fact it was quite the opposite.

“Hey, you're the one that came running to me for help; wanting me to find somebody to marry your daughter- somebody that wouldn't make her completely miserable, because General Byzantine kept harassing you about her.”

“That horrible man’s friends with Strabo Plinth, the richest man in the goddamn Capitol, so yes I wanted you to help me marry Y/N to somebody before Strabo came knocking on my door shoving a blank checkbook in my face while his friend gave me a pen and marriage contract to sign for my daughter.” Your mother told the man standing at her front door. A man that she couldn't stand the sight of.

A man that she absolutely, undoubtedly, without a doubt hated with every fiber of her being.

Shaking her head, she revealed, “I never thought you'd marry her yourself, Crassus.”

“Yes, well, Y/N is young and beautiful.” Crassus told your mother before revealing his true need for you with, “And, since I plan on running in the presidential race as soon as President Ravenstill either resigns or dies from his poor health, Y/N’s beauty will make for the perfect First Lady on my arm.”

“I'm not voting for you; I'll vote for your opponent.” Your mother tells your husband.

But little does your mother know that when the time does come to vote for a new president that she'll be voting for Crassus. That she'll approve of Crassus in the Presidential Mansion ruling over the nation of Panem rather than his young opponent.

And unknown to everyone, the next presidential election’s going to be very close and very very dirty…

“Yes, well, I'm not here to hash out my career goals or why we’re in-laws. I'm here to tell you that you need to go to the hospital to see Y/N and Cassian.”

Your mother took a long drag off her cigerette holder, only to look up at Crassus and blow a lungful of smoke into the direction of his face as he towers over her. “No, I'm not going tonight. But I'll see them tomorrow.”

Crassus narrowed his cold, icy blue eyes at your mother. “Y/N’s your daughter and Cassian's your newborn grandson, why aren't you seeing them tonight? As a grandmother shouldn't you want to see your own grandson?”

“I'll still be their mother and grandmother tomorrow, Crassus.” Helenium flatly reminds your husband. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for work tonight.”

“Javani would be appalled, ashamed, and disgusted by what you've become, Helenium.” Crassus told your mother, disdain dripping from his tongue, before pivoting on his heel and heading towards his car that was parked on the curbside.

“Mother, have you noticed a change between my wife and Coriolanus?” Crassus asks his mother, who's dressed to the nines in her fineries to meet her newest grandson, as she sits in the backseat of his car while he drives them to Capitol General Hospital.

Crassus, unlike other Capitolites, didn't have a chauffeur. He prefers to be in control; like to be behind the wheel. General Snow doesn't trust a driver's judgment. In fact he trusts his own judgment over that of a hired hand.

“What kind of change, Crassus, dear?” Grandma'am asked, her voice a bit aloof, as she looked out the window. She looked like the epitome of a fine Capitolite lady, which in fact she truly was.

“Have you noticed if they've become closer as of lately?” Crassus asked, brow raised.

The middle-aged man had noticed for the last few months how his whinny, spoiled brat of a son kept looking at you with a certain- yearning? And the. He called you mommy, which was unsettling to Crassus to say the very least. The only instances he knew of where grown men call grown women who's not their mother ‘mommy’ is when that man's a sub with a kink.

Crassus wouldn't put it past his son to be subby, but a mommy kink? Yea…well…he supposes he can see Coriolanus being into that as well.

Lord knows that Crassus has the stamina of a race horse. That he's been taking libido suppressants ever since getting with you since he doesn't think you can handle his true nature, being so young and all. Plus, it's not as if your marriage is a love match. It's a marriage of convenience, so quick meaningless sex is the expected norm.

Isn't it?

Well, you never complained so Crassus figures you're fine with the very boring vanilla sex life the two of you lead.

If only he knew that wasn't the case at all. That you're fulfilling your needs elsewhere. And with his son: the sub…

“Coriolanus called Y/N mommy in the hospital while explaining that she let him help her narrow down the baby names.” The war hero adds in, to future accentuate his worries and questions for his proper Capitolite lady of a mother.

“Oh, Crassus, it seems like Coriolanus is finally accepting a maternal figure in his life.” Grandma'am waved off her son's concerns. The old woman was a typical grandmother who felt that her grandson was a spotless, precious, innocent, baby lamb in her eyes.

If only Grandma'am knew that her grandson Coriolanus is actually a wolf in sheep's skin.

Crassus shook his head, knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere with his mother. She was an old woman who was charmed by her grandson’s smile and proper demeanor. She'll never think that her grandson could have perverted thoughts.

Crassus on the other hand decided to keep a closer eye on his son’s actions around you. He already picked up on how Coriolanus looks at you, so doing his own little investigation on his son's feelings for you won't be too hard.

But Crassus thinks that his son doesn't have the balls to try anything with you. That Coriolanus would be too scared of the punishment (being cut off from his trust fund) that would befall him if he seduced you.

If only Coriolanus was truly that ball-less. But he wasn't. He had a pair since he successfully seduced you, his stepmother, to become his lover. His ‘mommy’ that rides his cock hard and fast; who bosses him around and indulges him in all of his fantasies.

“I suppose you're right, mother.” Crassus tells Grandma’am as a way to close out the subject he brought up. A thin, barely there smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he tells his mother, “Your new grandson, Cassian, looks like a true Snow. Platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes.”

“Oh, Crassus, I can't wait to meet him.” Grandma'am replies with the excitement Crassus expects from a normal grandmother. A reaction that your mother never showed.

Grandma'am Snow fawned over Cassian Xandros the moment Crassus placed him into her arms. The old woman smiled at your son, only to look at you and Crassus and say how proud she was that another Snow grandbaby was born. One that looked like a true Snow too, since the Snow looks are very important to upkeep in the family’s lineage.

You thought that the old woman was a bit extra for saying that, but to each their own.

Before Crassus and Grandma'am left to go home a nurse came into your room to explain that you and the baby would only be staying for a day since the labor went without a hitch. The nurse gave your husband the information about the date and time of your discharge so that he could be around not just to take you and the baby home, but to help you fill out the baby's legal paperwork.

So, that's why you're in your hospital room with your husband and a nurse as she asks the required questions that are on the form that will become your son's birth certificate. His legal paper proving his Capitol citizenship.

First the nurse asked the baby's name, to which your husband answered, “Cassian Xandros Snow.”

When the nurse asked about your name and birthday Crassus let you answer that yourself. And when the nurse asked your address, the cold natured man that you're cursed to call your husband answered for you with, “Road of Hope 26, 12th floor Penthouse.”

The nurse nodded and scribbled down the address before asking what your occupation, to which Crassus answered with house wife. Looking at your husband, the nurse asks, “Father's full name, please.”

“Crassus Xanthos Snow.”

You blinked your eyes, shocked to hear that your son's middle name was so similar to your husband's. You didn't even realize it when you discussed it with Coriolanus. Did your lover know that your baby's middle name would be so similar to Crassus'? Hmm…

Then the nurse asked Crassus his birthday, but his answer had you reeling more than the discovery of his middle name. When you heard the year of your husband's birth you quickly did the mental math and came to the startling conclusion that he's younger than you initially thought. Crassus isn't 60, but he's only middle-aged. Crassus is in his mid-40s.

Yea, he's much younger than you thought he was.

So why did both your mother and Coriolanus let you believe that he was old?

And since he's essentially a DILF, why does Crassus pop blue pills; why is your sex life the bare minimum?

Nothing makes sense.

Argh.

Why couldn't you be married to Coriolanus right now? Things would be so much easier if he was your husband.

And talk about the devil…

Coriolanus strolled right into your room, bouquet of white roses in his hand and a smile stretching wide across his face; baby blues flashing manically. And then when he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed with the baby cradled in your arms and his father sitting next to you all while a nurse asked the question of, “Father's occupation?”, the younger blonde man’s smile faltered.

“Military.” Was Crassus' curt reply to the nurse, all the while Coriolanus was asking why he wasn't told about your discharge. A question to which Crassus answered with a clipped, “Y/N’s my wife, not yours. And Cassian's my son; your baby brother, so you have no need to know about such things.”

Turning to you with tears brimming in his icy eyes like shiny diamonds, Coriolanus’ lower lip quivers as he asks, “Mommy, why wouldn't you call me about your discharge? Didn't you want me here to help you?”

Oh boy…

Not now. Not here in the damn hospital room. What the hell's wrong with Coryo? Is he crazy? He can't just go around calling you mommy in that subby tone of voice: the one he uses when he wants something from you whether it be in the bedroom or out of it.

Oh gods…

Coriolanus, your step-son, is acting up right now in front of both his father and the nurse. Oh, how you wish the floor could just swallow you up right now.

The nurse looked flustered, as if she was intruding in a family moment she shouldn't be a part of. Meanwhile, your husband's brows furrowed, as if the wheels inside of his head were turning.

Locking your eyes with Coryo's cerulean ones, you mustered up your soft dom voice and told him, “I have your father here to help me, Coriolanus. Crassus took some time off work to bring me and the baby home.”

Crassus' face was stern and his voice was low and cold as he told his young doppelganger, “Son, you need to be in class; not here tormenting my wife while she's being discharged with our newborn.”

“I told Dr. Gaul about mommy and the baby; she said I was excused from class to bond with my new mommy and baby brother.” Coriolanus countered his father in a bratty tone while placing the bouquet of white roses on your bedside table.

Oh gods, how you wanted to slap the boy with the light blonde halo of curls across the face. What the fuck’s wrong with him? This isn't funny. This isn't a game he's playing and breaking the rules with, this is your life.

You're married to Crassus; Coryo knows that, but here he is acting bratty and dropping hints here and there that you two are a little close.

The nurse seemed very uncomfortable by what was going on in your hospital room. So much so that she seemed a bit skittish as she flipped the paper on the clipboard to reveal the discharge papers. Before Crassus, you, or your brat of a step-son could say another word the nurse shoved the clipboard and the attached pen at your husband while saying, “Just sign, initial, and date the marked areas of the discharge papers please.”

Crassus nods at the nurse, only to pick up the pen and start marking up the papers in the prompted areas. Never looking up from the vast amount of paperwork, he sternly says, “Dr. Gaul's class is a tough one and one that's passing is required for Military Strategies majors. You, son, being a double major in both Military Strategies and Political Science, can't afford to skip a single day of her class.”

“I’m Dr. Gaul's star prodigy.” Coriolanus boasted with a charming smile. “She even says that once I graduate she'll be offering me a position as an Assistant Gamemaker right underneath her.” He added in, wanting to prove that there was nothing to worry about when it came to his studies with Dr. Gaul.

That woman gave you the creeps. And she says that Coryo's her star prodigy…

What the hell?...

“I thought after graduation you're signing up as an officer in the Peacekeepers; going to 2 for a couple months of quick training before receiving your commission?” Crassus asked Coriolanus, his brows arched, as he handed the clipboard back to the nurse.

“You decided I was going to follow your career path, but after talking to Dr. Gaul I've decided that I'm going to become a gamemaker.” Coriolanus told his father in a tone that screamed entitled brat.

“I'll go scan this into the computer and print out a copy of the birth certificate, then you'll be ready to go.” The nurse rattled out before rushing out of the room. Poor thing just had to get away from the Snow family before she cracked.

Father and son didn't even pay the nurse any mind. She left to scan the paperwork, good for her. Crassus and Coriolanus were too engrossed in their pissing match to care what the nurse did.

“You think you know better then me, son, but you're just a sniveling boy trying to play at being a man." Crassus told his son in a low biting tone that expressed his frustrations. Giving his son a hard, stern look, the older Snow said, "Now, you'll call off these silly notions of gamemaking and enlist as an officer in the Peacekeepers.”

“I am a man, father, and I'm not going to waste my abilities in the military like you did. I'm going to become a gamemaker and then I'll become a politician." A sneering smile crossed his face as he announced, "The best politician in all of Panem.”

“You're a bit too ambitious for your own good, aren't you, Coriolanus?” Crassus rhetorically asked his firstborn son- his deep voice stony and cold.

“And you're not ambitious enough, father, otherwise you'd be more than a minister of some military department.” Coriolanus hurled out without thinking. His bratty boy behavior was on full display right now.

Was he showing out because you're with Crassus, filling out paperwork for baby Cassian. You know that Coriolanus wants to be the one by your side when all of this important stuff is happening, but it's no cause for him to get jealous and become an unbearable brat.

Coriolanus is nearly 22 for Christ's sakes!

He needs to stop being a jealous brat. You're married to Crassus, his father, so he doesn't own you. Coriolanus has no claim over you. All he has is the same as you, the stolen moments in his bedroom during the dead of night.

Crassus' voice was a low hiss that reeked of danger as he gave his son the warning of, “You don't know a damn thing about my ambitions or my career son. So, I advise you to go to class before I throw you out of this room.”

“I have a right to be here-” Coriolanus began to protest, only for you to cut him off with the order of, “Go, Coryo, before things get worse between you and Crassus.”

The young platinum blonde's shoulders slump upon hearing your words. Are you siding with his hateful father over him, your lover and baby daddy? If Coriolanus wasn't so turned on by your bossy tone, he would've objected to your order. But he loves it when you tell him what to do in that soft dominant way you have.

It always sends a twitch straight down to his cock.

Hopefully later tonight, once the baby's put to bed and his father's asleep, you'll be able to take care of his hard, aching cock for him.

“Okay, mommy, I'll be good and go home.” Coriolanus told you, a hint of a smile on his face. A face that was so similar to his father's, only that his features were more youthful.

“Get your useless ass to class, Coriolanus. There's no need for you to be home so early in the afternoon.” Crassus snapped at his son, who was walking out of the room.

Turning to you, Crassus said in a neutral voice, “I have the day off to help you and the baby settle in at home, but I'm afraid I'm needed back at work tomorrow.”

“Don't worry about it, Crassus. I'll be fine.” You assure your husband right as the nurse entered the room with your son's birth certificate along with the paper of his stamped footprints on it.

“I wasn't worried about it; I was telling you so you wouldn't expect me at home cooing over you and the baby whenever I have more important things to attend to.” Crassus told you in a low, bland tone that hinted that he didnt view you or the baby as a priority in his life. That his work was worth more than you and your baby.

If only you were married to Coriolanus. He clearly values you and the baby more than his work.

Or at least you think that he does.

In time you'll find out that Coriolanus’ ambitions will turn him into a monster. A monster some deems worse as his father.

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

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 months ago

Note

Yo! Hello there blusy :3 (is that what i call you? .. sorry .. bad at context)

would u mind writing a tiny lil blurb/oneshot about Reader being like, a saleperson that walked up to Donnas estate, trying to get her to buy fabric or whatever, being totally clueless to who Donna is? Not being from the village/country and all, assuming Donna was just a very tall goth gal?

(Donna just standing there confused like.. what? Huh? Angie, if i remember the dolls name correctly, is just laughing her ass off)

Make it wholesome or i'll eat you. /hj (lighthearted!! Dont take this as a genuine threat .. aha ..)

also ignore the fact i might be writing this in like a really weird way .. this is the first time ive requested something .. so .. i hope i asked this okay?? 😵‍💫

thank you, thank you, much love, from useless internet loser named Jooseboxxe 🧃

Yesss!!!! Was it your first request?? Welcome then!!! Thank you for your love, your support, and your request!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A clueless outsider

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff,

Word count: 8,005

Summary: What's going on here...?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

On your trips through Europe you had visited many places, you had even gotten lost in many of them, but there was nothing that could compare to that journey through the villages of Romania, to the radical change of what you had around: a poorly paved road, sinister trees that seemed to chase you, crows...

You were a merchant, a kind of nomad who traveled through old Europe trying to make it on your own. Without family and friends, traveling, selling and repeating was your routine. Visiting new places, meeting people of all kinds was always the only thing that kept you with a slight sanity. Loneliness was never your enemy, but it wasn't your ally either.

Your old GPS had stopped working a long time ago, but you, who always looked on the bright side of things, didn't give it any importance. You assumed that the thick forest was the guilty.

“What!?” you screamed when your tedious driving made a sharp turn to avoid a strange shadow in the middle of the neglected road. “Damn!” you screamed again, trying to keep control of the vehicle that, due to your sharp turn, went down a slope until it crashed spectacularly into a tree.

Luckily it was nothing serious.

“Oh…” you lamented, trying to stay calm, thinking about what you had seen. It seemed as if someone, or something, was in the middle of the road. You couldn't see it well. It looked like a vermin, perhaps, or some absent-minded peasant.

Of course, what had caused the accident wasn’t the biggest of your worries. The sound of the vehicle's engine dying over and over again was an unpleasant mockery, as was the smoke coming out of the hood.

“No, no, no,” you protested, hitting the steering wheel and giving up, getting out of the vehicle. “That's all I needed…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and taking out your phone, looking around.

“112,” you repeated while dialing the numbers, hoping that mistake wouldn't lead to a fine, since you had spent a lot of money on the way and you didn't have any cash. “What? It must be a joke…” you sighed when no one answered on the other end of the phone.

There was no signal, not even for emergencies. You had to have an accident in the most isolated place in Romania.

Looking at the vehicle and then around you, you sighed, shaking your head. You took several steps forward to try to make out something among the trees. A small wisp of black smoke rose before you. There seemed to be a village very close, and that, at least, was hopeful.

Taking what you needed, you walked towards that village, looking up when you were close enough, admiring an imposing castle that seemed to watch over the town, a beautiful construction that you hadn't seen in any of your travel guides.

At least in that place, someone could help you, or so you thought.

Snow, old houses... A graveyard in the middle of the square... It was a picturesque place, no doubt, although sightseeing wasn't your main idea. It didn't seem abandoned, but you didn't see anyone in the tiny streets either, maybe in the castle?

“Can I help you with something, miss?” a deep voice made you jump.

You were sure there was no one around you.

From an old carriage, whose doors suddenly opened, a strange, exaggeratedly fat man appeared with a sinister smile. The fright made your mind ignore those disturbing details, and you saw that man as a possible savior.

“Um... Hello,” you said with a more timid smile than usual, trying to bring out a bit of your business friendliness, downplaying that sudden appearance, that disconcerting appearance. “The, the truth is that I do need help.”

“What can I do for you, outsider?” that man asked, looking at you cautiously, without removing from his face a smile that seemed familiar to you. “To see tourists around here isn’t very common.”

“Tourist? Oh, no, no, I...” you said, recognizing the smug air of his words, the blood of a merchant running through his veins. “I, I had an accident with my car and... My phone doesn't work.”

“I see,” the man said, shaking his head. “What a bad luck.”

“Yes…” you sighed, with a more confident smile. “Uh… I need to call a tow truck, or someone who can repair my vehicle. It's nothing serious, or so I think,” you explained with a formal tone.

“It's normal in these cases,” he said, amused, with a tone that made you a bit suspicious.

“Is there a mechanic in this village?” you asked, looking around.

“A mechanic? Well, I think there's someone who's… How to put it… Expert in manipulating vehicles,” the man explained, arching his eyebrows.

You nodded with a sigh of relief.

“Great, could you call him?” you asked in a friendly tone.

“Oh, but I'm afraid his services have a price, outsider,” the man in the carriage commented. “As well as mine.”

“Oh, sure, sure… I have, I have money,” you said, rummaging through your bag and taking out your credit card. “Well, if it's not too expensive…”

“That won't do anything here, miss, keep that piece of plastic,” he said, making an unpleasant gesture with his hand.

“What? But…” you said nervously, shaking your head.

“I've never believed in money as an intangible thing. If I can't touch it, it doesn't exist, understand?” he said.

“Yeah, but… I don't have any lei right now, I…” you whispered, looking for some change, one you couldn't find. “I only have euros in cash.”

“Euros? Oh, please…” the fat man laughed, moving the carriage at the same time. “Your euros are of no use here.”

“But, but I need help, at least let me call emergency services,” you said with a more serious tone, crossing your arms. “Are you going to charge me for that too?”

“If it's something you need… Of course I’m,” he said amused

“It's clear that you're a merchant,” you commented with a furious gasp. “An unscrupulous one…”

“Yes, you've guessed right,” he laughed again. “Is there even one with principles?”

“Me, for example, I’m also a merchant,” you hissed, looking at a dark flock of crows that shrank your spirit. It was a terrifying place.

“Oh, what a coincidence,” the man said, leaning towards you.

“Yes, fabulous,” you said ironically, looking away. “Tell me at least where I am. Is there any other town nearby?”

“I'm afraid there isn’t,” he replied. “It seems that you have run out of options... Or maybe you haven’t.”

“Explain yourself,” you said with a frown, seeing in his smile, an imminent proposal.

“Sometimes something as simple as a bag of coins can be enough to close a deal but... There are days when it’s not enough... I don't know if you get it...” the strange man explained.

“No,” you said, wanting to leave that place.

“I propose something to you, miss… Maybe you don't have money to offer me, but I think that, being a merchant, you could pay me in another way,” he said with a gloomy voice, without removing that smile from his face.

“It's true… I have, I have some products in the car, maybe if I give them to you, you can…” you said, thinking about your possibilities.

“Actually, as tempting as your offer may be, I'm afraid I don't need anything you have to offer me, however…”

“However…” you repeated through clenched teeth.

“Today I woke up a bit lazy, perhaps you would like to do me the favor of saving me the trouble of having to wander around the village doing my job,” the man commented, looking at his nails with disinterest.

“What? Do you want me to work for you?” you asked annoyed, refusing instantly. “Listen, I have to get out of this place and…”

“You want your car repaired, I want this list of orders to disappear. It's a good deal,” he said, taking out a piece of paper and handing it to you. Several names of products followed by each other were written on it.

“If I take this to those people, will someone fix my car?” you asked curiously. “Come on, it's too easy.”

“Trading seems very easy for you,” the man commented. “But if you do me this favor... Well, you'll be closer to being able to get out of here.”

“Okay, fine,” you said defeated, not finding another immediate way out of that situation. “I'll work for you. I hope you keep your word.”

“It's business, I never play with business,” he whispered. “By the way, I'm the Duke...”

“Duke? I can't say I'm glad to meet you,” you said with a mocking smile. “I'm... (Y/N),” you said, shaking the big hand of that man with a strange name.

After telling him where your wrecked car was, you accompanied the man to a warehouse of sorts, where you collected all the things on the list. It looked like an old village, with old customs. There was nothing remotely similar to the 21st century, but you didn't give it much thought. You were born with the ability to overlook things. Perhaps that's why you were that good at business.

The people of the village seemed surprised, even frightened by your presence, but your talents and your sales skills helped you with the task. They were strange people, but kind in their own way, fearful, but... somehow, easy to fool.

In a few hours, you were almost finished with that list and returned to the Duke's warehouse for your last order.

“Is that an empty cart?” the merchant asked, looking at the cart you were dragging. “Have you sold everything?”

“Yes,” you said satisfied, letting yourself fall into a chair. “I have sold the family, I think it was… Djovic, the baby clothes.”

“The clothes? Oh, that's good,” the man said, counting the coins you gave him, satisfied with your services. “Good job.”

“I suppose this won't help to fix my car,” you said distrustful of the look of the Duke, who obviously laughed amused, shaking his head.

“Mm, no, miss, but you’re on the right track,” he commented, gesturing for you to come closer, pointing to a package with what looked like fabrics. “There is one last order for you…”

“Fabrics?” you asked curiously, loading those rolls into the cart. “Okay…”

“You have to sell those fabrics to Lady Beneviento,” the man explained, with a slightly darker voice, narrowing his eyes.

You shrugged, examining the merchandise.

“Lady Beneviento…” you repeated, scratching the back of your neck. “She seems like someone important, is she from the castle?”

“Oh, no, no…” he whispered. “She lives in a house near the village.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding. “Beneviento… Okay, where does that woman live?”

“Mm,” the Duke murmured, with a strange smile. “Go towards that square over there,” he said, leaning out of the carriage and pointing to a path. “There you will see a wooden door decorated with a moon and a sun. Go through the door and follow the path, cross the bridge and it won't take long to you to reach the estate.”

“Okay, great,” you sighed, looking at the road in the distance. “Is she a seamstress or something?”

“Not exactly… She's a complicated woman, but seeing how you dealt with the villagers, I think you won't have any problems,” the man explained, with a slightly disturbing tone you didn't pay attention to.

“Wait, didn't she ask for these fabrics?” you asked curiously, looking at the small cart full again.

“The best merchant is the one who sees the need before it exists, don't you think?” the man asked.

You frowned and shook your head.

“A door with a sun and a moon, a bridge… Fine, I'll do it,” you said murmuring, grabbing the handle of the cart and leaving through the door.

“Oh, Miss (Y/N),” the Duke interrupted, with a voice that was too kind. “It was a pleasure to meet you…”

You opened your eyes at that mysterious phrase, but you didn't give it any importance, you kept walking ignoring that comment from the merchant. It was certainly a strange place, probably the strangest you had ever visited. On top of that, you were trapped there, but you couldn't complain either, at least you could do your job.

Following the Duke's instructions, you entered an even darker forest, on a path that seemed devoured by the passage of time. It didn't take long for you to see the dangerous wooden bridge and, despite your vertigo, you managed to cross it.

Everything around you seemed to be in ruins. You imagined what that place would have been like a few years ago as you walked between two abandoned cabins towards a small clearing, one with a grave in the middle, a grave that you didn't approach out of respect.

“Wow… Whoever lives here must have a lot of money,” you commented, approaching a red door, pulling the cart behind you. “Surely that Beneviento is the typical old lady who can't go to the village. I'm not surprised. It seems as if she doesn't want anyone to come near this place.”

An old elevator was waiting for you to go up. Your danger instincts were deactivated. On your travels you had met very peculiar people. Neither that extravagant merchant, nor that mysterious house seemed anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe that was it, or maybe you were just a girl of simple convictions. You always had a logical explanation for everything.

“Whoa… Incredible,” you said leaving the elevator, walking along a small path towards an old mansion, a spectacular construction next to a waterfall. “This is really curious,” you commented, admiring the subtle and dull beauty of that place, a strange, uncomfortable beauty, but a beauty nonetheless.

“Ahem,” you said, clearing your throat as you crossed the gates of the mansion, which seemed surrounded by strange plants, like an unkempt garden. “If everything goes well, I can leave soon…” you whispered as you climbed the steps and fixed your hair.

It didn't look like the place of residence of any ordinary villager. You would have to use your best skills. Carefully, you knocked softly on the door, looking curiously at your surroundings.

“Hello?” you asked when you didn't get an answer. “Is anyone home?”

“It's an outsider, Donna…” A murmur behind the door made you stand up elegantly. It seemed like a high-pitched voice, as if it were a little girl. “What do we do?”

“H-Hello?” you asked again, sure you had heard that voice. “Sorry, but, but, I came to…”

“No? Why? Oh, yes, it's true, we haven't played for a long time…” the girl's voice said again, approaching the door. “She looks like a silly girl…”

“Hey,” you protested silently, shaking your head. “What manners that girl has…”

The door opened with a creak and before you appeared a strange sight: a woman dressed completely in black, with her face covered by a veil, holding a strange doll in her arms. Her pose was straight, elegant, and her voice seemed not to want to leave her lips.

“Uh… Hello,” you said nervous at that curious sight, at that strange woman in mourning. “Sorry for the inconvenience but… Oh, well, first of all, I give you my deepest condolences.”

You lowered your head slowly and respectfully, looking curiously at the hands of that lady, hands that erased the image you had of an older woman. She looked like a young one.

“What are you talking about?” the same shrill voice from before spoke while the mouth of that doll moved, leaving you pinned to the ground, stunned.

“Oh… what?” you asked confused, frowning and looking closely at the doll. “Oh, it's a ventriloquist doll, how curious,” you said naturally, looking up at the lady's covered face.

You didn't want to ask the reason why that woman spoke through the doll. What you thought was that maybe she was dedicated to giving shows in the town, nothing out of the ordinary for someone as open-minded as you.

“Who are you calling a doll, stupid outsider?” the doll protested in an amused tone, making you laugh curiously.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you joked, playing along with that doll. “Um... Um... Well, I'm very sorry for your loss, Lady... Beneviento?”

“What loss?” the doll asked, making your gaze separate from the lady's.

“W-Well, you're dressed in mourning and... Well, it's not very common to do it anymore but... Um, I...” you stammered.

“Do my Donna’s clothes annoy you?” the doll asked again, making you blink in confusion.

“Donna? Is that your name?” you asked curiously. “It's, it's a beautiful name...”

“Who are you?” the puppet asked again, pointing at you with its finger.

You focused your eyes well to see the strings that surely guided the doll to move. The woman in black seemed not to move, something even more mind-blowing to you.

“I'm (Y/N), I'm, I'm here for... Well, the truth is that I had an accident and... Well, I don't want to bore you with the details, but the Duke asked me to help him and...”

“The fat guy?” the doll asked, tilting her head comically.

Your eyes returned to the lady, who stood firm, with that black veil hiding her face. You nodded slowly, forcing your face into a typical merchant smile.

“Y-Yes, I… I have come to bring you these fabulous fabrics,” you said, pointing to the cart. “The Duke told me you might need them.”

“Let me get this straight…” the doll commented, with a slightly stranger voice. “You say that the Duke has sent you to sell us fabrics? You?”

“Well, yes,” you said, nodding more confidently, taking one of the small black rolls and holding it out to the woman. “Surely this shade of black will suit you.”

“It's clear that you're not a villager,” the doll joked, laughing softly. “Don't you know who you're talking to, stupid?”

“What? Oh, well, to Lady Beneviento, right?” you said absentmindedly, keeping your smile. “Donna?”

“She is Donna,” the doll said, pointing at the woman, who looked at it briefly, sighing, apparently.

“Oh, okay…” you said a bit confused, frowning. “You are Donna, right? Donna Beneviento?” you asked again.

“Are you stupid? I told you that she is Donna,” the doll insisted. “I’m Angie, Miss Angie to you, outsider.”

“Angie,” you repeated even more confused.

You had seen enough ventriloquist so that this kind of personality dissociation didn’t seem strange to you. Who knows, maybe she was giving you a free show.

“Miss Angie!” the puppet squealed, moving nervously in the arms of its owner, who whispered something you couldn't interpret. “Donna, get this over with, she makes me nervous.”

“Yes, it's true, it will be better if we talk business…” you said, interrupting that strange conversation between woman and puppet, making both of them look at you suddenly. “If you don't like this black fabric… Well, I also have…” you said, rummaging through the cart. “Oh, this grey fabric is also quite fancy.”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Angie doll interrupted, making an impossible gesture with her hands. “Are you serious? Do you intend to sell us fabrics?”

“Of course, I, I'm a merchant, it's, it's what merchants do,” you said in an informal tone, assuming that this woman spoke only through the doll, something that didn't seem strange to you.

On your travels you had met people of all kinds, she was no exception.

Lady and doll looked at each other again, shrugging comically at the same time. You laughed too, thinking, of course, that it was funny.

“It's incredible, I once saw a show of a man who had a similar puppet,” you explained, rummaging through the fabrics. “I think its name was... Billy the Rebel or something like that. The man barely moved his lips, it almost seemed like the puppet was alive.”

“Ohh...” the doll murmured in a sinister tone, with the same high-pitched voice as a child.

“Although well, wearing a veil makes things much easier, doesn't it? It's almost like cheating,” you commented amused, pointing at the lady, who fidgeted nervously, tilting her head. “Oh, I don't mean to say that you're a cheater or anything like that, it's just a comment.”

“Cheating? I can't believe it...” the doll said, shaking its head and resting a wooden hand on its forehead. “Donna, this girl is an idiot.”

“Idiot? Oh, yes, idiot for having such low prices especially for you,” you said, taking the insult easily. All those dolls always had a similar personality. “Like this ruffled fabric. I'm sure it will serve to make a beautiful dress.”

“A dress?” Angie asked, apparently holding back its laughter. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I'm not saying that your dress is ugly,” you said apologetically, not paying attention to the lady or the doll, focusing on your work. “I also had my gothic phase,” you commented amused, comparing the black fabrics with the lady's dress, getting so close that she took a step back, nervous.

“Gothic? Like a cathedral?” the doll asked, amused.

If it weren't for the fact that that woman was a ventriloquist, you would be thinking that she was starting to make fun of you.

“No,” you said laughing. “W-Well, I used to always wear black, like, like you, wear black lipstick… Everything black, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t understand a word, silly,” Angie said, shaking its head, with a sinister laugh. “Besides, my dress is white.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about… Your dress,” you said amused but with a kinder tone. “I meant, Donna, right?”

“You have some guts to call my Donna by her name,” the doll commented, drawing your attention again. “Do you really not know who you’re talking to?”

“N-No…” you sighed, trying not to let your smile fade. “Oh, wait…” you whispered, blinking, letting curious thoughts wander freely through your mind. “Ah, okay, I get it now…”

“Do you understand your situation now, stupid?” Angie mocked, laughing again. “Then you can start running and…”

“How did I not notice before?” you murmured, interrupting that strange phrase from the doll. “Forgive me.”

“It's late to apologize, outsider,” Angie growled, while the lady slightly raised her hand towards you, a gesture you overlooked.

“The clothes are not for you, but for Angie, right?” you asked, taking out a piece of cloth similar to the doll's. “Of course, how stupid I am…”

“W-What?” the puppet asked, confused.

The lady in black lowered the hand she had raised and you ignored a shiver that ran down your back, you even thought you heard voices. It had been a hard day, you weren’t surprised by the sudden tiredness your body felt.

“Forgive me, Donna, I already said that I'm not from here and... Well, luckily for you, and for me, the fabrics can be used in the way you prefer, besides, I'm convinced that a gray dress is perfect for Angie,” you said confidently, taking out a gray plaid fabric. “The wedding dress is fine, but you're probably thinking of something simpler, maybe with this Angie can look like a very formal lady.”

“What? What?” the doll repeated. “Hey, but...”

“Well, or you could also buy this black fabric and make her a dress just like yours. Wouldn't that be cool? Black is an interesting color like any other.”

A loud laugh echoed off the rocks of that place, off the walls of that old mansion. The Angie doll laughed non-stop, leaving you confused at first, making you react the same way, laughing softly.

“Don't go on, don't go on, I'm dying,” the doll said, being lowered to the floor by its owner.

You stopped laughing when you saw how that puppet remained standing, how it even seemed to throw itself on the ground to writhe with laughter.

“Wow...” you said, bending down to observe the doll, not finding anything strange in those movements, in the lack of strings or mechanisms. “Wow, I thought this village was a bit old-fashioned, but that robot is really impressive...” you murmured, getting a little closer to the doll.

“Mm?” a confused sound came from the black veil, a tone very different from that of the doll.

The lady looked at the puppet, who continued to laugh tirelessly until the laughter disappeared for a moment.

“A robot...” the doll commented. “A robot!” Angie shrieked, laughing again in a scandalous way. “This girl is great, Donna.”

“Do you make them? You must have a lot of clients,” you said curiously, looking at the woman in black, who seemed confused, looking at you and the doll repeatedly.

“I make porcelain dolls,” a hoarse voice came out from behind the black veil, a melodic voice, soft but damaged, as if she hadn't used it for a while.

“Oh, wow, it's comforting to talk to you, that doll is quite a naughty girl, isn't she?” you said amused, causing more laughter from the puppet. “Wow, that's also very, interesting... It's not very common.”

“I suppose is not,” she commented, relaxing her shoulders and gesturing towards the doll, who stopped laughing immediately, standing up again. “It's not common to see a stranger around here either.”

“How curious, everyone in this village has said the same thing,” you commented, scratching the back of your neck, no longer feeling that strange heaviness in your head. “I'm surprised it's not a tourist spot, the castle is amazing.”

“The castle? Donna, the castle!” Angie squealed, laughing again. “She likes the castle…”

“Of course, it's wonderful, what century is it from?” you asked curiously. “I'd like to visit it.”

“Oh, yes, I'm sure Alcina would like you to visit it too…” the doll commented, approaching its owner with a walk that was too soft for a robot.

“It's from the 17th century,” the woman said, with a serious, cold tone. “You said you had an accident.”

“Oh, yes, well,” you said nervously. “My car crashed into a tree and… I ran into the Duke and what a surprise, he doesn't accept that I pay a mechanic with my credit card so he offered me to work for him.”

“Credit card?” the lady asked, tilting her head curiously. “I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.”

“Oh, um…” you said, rummaging through your bag in confusion and pulling out your wallet. “My, my credit card… You know,” you said, taking out the card and making a gesture as if you were going to pay with it. “No?”

“No,” she said, with a strange sigh. “Can I take a look?” she asked, extending her pale hand towards you.

You, trusting, handed her the card. It seemed incredible to you, but this woman had no idea what you were talking about.

“Is that money? It's just a piece of plastic,” the doll said, letting Donna show it to the puppet as well, giving it back to you shortly after.

“Um, yeah, well…” you stammered, putting away your wallet. “But let's stop talking about me… So… Do you want some fabric for your dolls?”

“Give me all of them,” she said in a whisper, making the doll gasp in surprise. “I'll go get your money.”

You nodded in relief and looked curiously at the animatronic doll, who was impatiently tugging at her owner's dress.

“But Donna, are you going to let her go? She's an outsider… Hey, Donna, silly Donna, listen to me…”

Luckily, the payment was large and after a friendly farewell you were able to return to the village. Your little encounter with Donna Beneviento wasn’t what you expected, but that woman with an Italian accent seemed curious to you, enough so that you couldn't stop thinking about her during your return. She was a strange woman, but relatively normal.

Despite that black veil, you didn't see anything that made you think you were in danger, nothing at all. In fact, you could say that the doll technology was amazing. Maybe that strange woman was like that because she was some kind of genius.

“Ugh, it’s an useless piece of junk…” a male voice said as you approached the warehouse. “But I guess I’ll find a place for it at the factory…”

“I think so, Lord Heisenberg.” The Duke’s voice made you walk faster, finding yourself in the warehouse with a curious sight: your car was there, without any kind of vehicle that had brought it.

Next to it was the Duke, in his carriage, and next to him was a man with a hat. He seemed like a bit of a strange man, but after meeting the doll lady it wasn’t something too out of place.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get the attention of the men, who turned sharply, staring at you, as if they were surprised.

“Miss, (Y/N), you’re back,” the Duke said with a fake smile, unable to hide his surprise. “I’m impressed.”

“Hey, didn't you say that the girl had gone to Beneviento's estate?” the other man asked, with an equally surprised smile.

“Yes, that's right, Lord Heisenberg,” the merchant said, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I've already sold the fabrics, Donna seems like an interesting woman,” you commented without giving importance to those disturbing comments, leaving the empty cart in a corner.

“Interesting?” they both said at the same time, looking at each other with a strange expression.

“Mm,” you murmured, crossing your arms. “Oh, you must be the mechanic, I'm (Y/N), surely the Duke must have told you about me,” you said with a rehearsed smile, extending your hand towards the man, who shook it with a soft laugh.

“Of course,” he whispered. “Karl Heisenberg,” he introduced himself, bringing your hand to his lips in a gentlemanly manner. “It's a pleasure…”

“Yes, whatever,” you said, removing your hand with an informal gesture and approaching your car. “It would be a pleasure if you told me how much is going to cost that. You can fix it, right?”

“Fix it?” Karl asked, looking at you over his glasses, with an evil smile, one which at least looked evil.

“Ahem, Lord Heisenberg…” the Duke interrupted, with a fake smile. “Miss (Y/N) and I made a deal. She worked for me and you would be so kind as to repair her vehicle.”

“Oh, I see…” the supposed mechanic sighed, frowning. “It seems that you are losing faculties, Duke.”

“It seems that way…” the merchant whispered, making you blink in confusion. “Lady Beneviento has not been a problem for her…”

“Yes, it’s unusual,” the shorter man commented, shaking his head.

“Oh, well,” you interrupted innocently. “She is a strange woman, but the truth is that she seemed kind.”

“Kind…” both men sighed at the same time.

“Yes, and that robot of hers, the Angie doll, is impressive, it almost seems that it’s alive,” you said approaching your car, without giving importance to your words.

“What?” they asked in unison, looking at each other intensely and bursting into a loud laugh.

“I don't see what the joke is,” you said, annoyed by that mocking laugh. “Come on. Tell me how many days of work it's going to cost me.”

“I don't know, Miss…” the Duke said, wiping away the tears that caused his loud laughter, with the other man looking at you with a sardonic smile. “Wait a… “

The phone in the warehouse rang, interrupting.

“Allow me, just in case you get some exercise,” the Heisenberg guy joked, picking up the phone himself. “Hallo? Oh, ciao, dear…” he said in an amused but kind tone. “No, no, Angie… Ugh, stop… Shut the hell up!” he shrieked furiously.

Angie?

“Yes, that's better… I love the sound of your voice, little sister,” Karl said, leaning on the small table. “Yes, the fat guy is here… And his new assistant too, I think you’ve met her… Oh, yes… I don’t think Miranda would be happy with that… Oh, okay, okay… Paint? Well, that’s not my area of expertise but… Oh, yes, well, I know, I’ll tell him… ciao, ciao…”

You barely listened to the conversation. You just stared at the wreckage of your car.

“Donna,” the man said, sighing and approaching the Duke, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “She wants some paint.”

“Paint? I sent her a few cans last week,” the merchant commented.

Heisenberg shrugged.

“Looks like you have more work to do, girl…” the man murmured, walking past you and out the door. “Duke, do me a favor and keep me informed, this is going to be interesting…”

“Of course, Lord Heisenberg,” the Duke said, looking at you moments later. “Well, (Y/N), you can sleep here for a while, until you pay off your debt.”

“Great…” you sighed, shaking your head.

“But now you have to go back to the Beneviento estate, apparently she needs paint…”

Without asking many more questions, you complied with his order, returning shortly after, chatting again with that curious, strange woman but… Whose presence seemed comforting to you.

Your car wasn’t going to be fixed overnight, and you began to accept that job as a new routine. Every day you walked around the village doing that man's job. None of the villagers seemed to want to answer your questions, none seemed… None seemed to believe that you were still there.

Confident and without any fear in the face of all those signs of danger, you continued working, and most importantly, you continued walking towards that dark mansion, having longer and longer conversations with that lady in black. Time passed so quickly that you barely noticed.

One of those days, mysteriously, the lady in black invited you to enter that mansion, you could see the portrait of a beautiful woman on the stairs, her portrait, or so you thought. Questions were constantly stalking your head, but your ignorance was your best protection.

Surely that lonely woman had suffered terribly, channeling part of her personality into that strange robot. Something disturbing, but also mind-blowing.

“So is he your brother?” you asked, sitting on an old sofa, with a cup of hot tea in your hands easing the cold.

“Something like that,” the veiled lady whispered, doing the same in front of you, with that robot roaming freely around the house.

“Oh, well, he seems like a strange man,” you said with a smile. “Do you think he can fix my car?”

“I don't know, I guess he can,” she said, with a somber tone, putting her cup elegantly on the table. “Tell me something about you.”

“About me?” you asked, with your cheeks blushing, something that sweet voice caused on your face. “There's not much to tell. I prefer, I prefer you talk to me about yourself.”

“No,” she said dryly, shaking her head. “I asked first, you're not interested in my life.”

“No? So, why are you interested in mine?” you asked amused with your merchant attitude speaking for you. “I'd like to know something about Angie.”

“What do you want to know?” the lady asked, scratching her knee through her dress, as if she were nervous. “I'm not sure I can answer your questions correctly.”

“Mm, well, to begin with... Is the voice yours or it has some kind of voice box?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who approached curiously.

“Are you blind, silly? It's incredible that you haven't noticed yet,” the doll said, laughing amused again, like every time you made a comment about her. “Why are you wasting your time with that stupid girl? Miranda is going to get angry...”

“Miranda?” you asked curiously. It wasn't the first time you heard that name in the village, it seemed like someone dangerous... “Hey, come here,” you said, taking the doll by surprise. “Do you run on batteries? Where do you have them?”

“Batteries? Let me go, silly!” the doll protested while you searched for the electrical part of that robot, one that, of course, you didn't find, turning pale and lowering the doll to the floor with trembling hands.

“Um...” you murmured a bit dizzy. There was no mechanism that made the doll move. “My God... It can't be. It's, it's impossible...”

“Mm, it probably is for someone like you,” Donna commented, without making the slightest effort to explain herself, to make you understand why that doll was alive. “Are you starting to understand your situation?”

“N-No, not really,” you said, with a cold sweat running down your neck. “I don't know what kind of joke this is but... I'm, I'm starting to get scared.”

“Okay, be scared then,” the woman said with an amused laugh, standing up. “Angie, call Mother Miranda”

“Right away,” the doll said, running towards a small table with a telephone. “What do I tell her?”

“Tell her that the outsider won't be a problem anymore,” she murmured, walking towards you. “I'm sorry, (Y/N). I've really enjoyed your company, but you being here can cause me problems.”

“What? D-Donna, what are you talking about?” you asked nervously, moving restlessly on the couch, swallowing as the lady approached.

“I'm afraid you've chosen the worst place to have an accident, ragazza…” she whispered, bringing one of her hands to the black cloth that covered her face, removing it with a sigh, revealing you her true appearance, one that you couldn't even imagine.

You blinked several times, with the portrait of the stairs in your head, admiring the beauty of that woman, a special one, a beauty that a hideous scar on her right side tried to hide, but was unsuccessful.

“I hope you can forgive me,” the lady said, with a sad look, with her only eye shining due to a tear that left it as she moved her hand towards you.

“Forgive you, why?” you asked stuttering, shaking your head to get out of the daydream that beautiful woman caused you. “Oh, you have nothing to apologize for… We all, we all have flaws, you know? Besides, you are, you are a beautiful woman… I don’t think covering your face is rude.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, squeezing the veil in her hands. “Doesn’t my appearance scare you?”

“Well… It doesn’t…” you whispered, your mind sending you a thousand danger signals. “You were worried about that, weren’t you? You thought it was rude not to show your face but you were afraid to do so, right, Donna?”

“Cosa? But, but, (Y/N),” she said nervously, frowning, breathing heavily.

“You are beautiful, really,” you said with a sincere smile, getting up and putting yourself at her height, running a hand over her wounded cheek, one that she removed with a slap. “I’m sorry… What happened to you?”

“Um... I...” the lady stammered, turning her face away from your curious hand, running one of hers through her black hair, as if she were going to have an anxiety attack.

“Mother Miranda, I'm Angie, your faithful friend...” the doll's shrill voice interrupted an intense look, a look between you two that awakened something inside you, something that went beyond your intention to trade or seem friendly.

You really wanted to be, you wanted... To be closer to her.

“Cazzo...” the brunette hissed, walking quickly towards the doll and abruptly hanging up the phone, resting her hands on the table.

“Hey! I was talking to...!” the doll protested, jumping on the floor.

“No one has ever told me that I am beautiful,” the lady whispered, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Well, I say what I think,” you sighed with a tender smile, one that she returned to you as she turned slowly. “By the way, who is Mother Miranda?”

“She is nobody, it doesn't matter,” the woman said, walking slowly towards you, playing with her hands. “Have you… have you finished your work?”

“Yes, I always come here last, so I can stay a bit longer. It's very nice to talk to you.”

“That's what Josef said…” the doll commented, amused, walking away when she received a deadly look from her owner.

“(Y/N), I… I, I would like… Well… That you would stay for dinner with me,” Donna said, with an innocent and nervous look. “I'm convinced that the Duke doesn't feed you properly.”

“You got it right,” you said amused. “I'm sick of that damn soup,” you joked again, pretending a grimace of disgust.

“Good, because… Because I would like… Maybe you want…”

“It will be a pleasure, Donna,” you said nodding, making her smile widen.

That dinner marked a different stage in your ostentatious stay in the village. Her gaze was tender, it was almost as if she was looking at you for the first time. As best she could, she explained some details of her life, her childhood, her loneliness…

You knew there was something she wasn't telling you, something she was hiding, but you didn't insist. That comforting feeling next to her grew, turning dinners into a pleasant routine. You couldn't find out anything else about the village, you weren't even interested in the living doll anymore. Donna seemed to be the only thing you had to pay attention to.

As time went by, that closeness went beyond the limits of a pure friendship. Tension began to be present in your encounters. You never believed in love at first sight, but you didn't believe in living dolls either, so... It was never too late to discover something new.

“It was delicious... That tidamisu was the best thing I've ever tasted in my life,” you said, wiping yourself with a napkin.

“Tiramisu,” the lady corrected you, with a pleased smile at your praise. “I'm glad you liked it.”

“Yes, you should sell them, I can help you,” you said amused, pointing at yourself, earning a tender laugh from the lady in black, who shook her head.

That phrase seemed innocent, but, certainly, a strange feeling accompanied the tension of your dinners with Donna. The feeling that maybe you weren't uncomfortable in that place, the feeling of leaving your travels and staying there permanently. You had work, food... A friend, or at least that's what you thought... You couldn't be happier.

“I have enough with the dolls,” Donna commented, smiling.

But there was something else that night, something that made you sad, something you had to tell her.

“The Duke told me this morning that the car is ready,” you said in a whisper, making the lady look at you briefly and then go back to finishing her dessert. “I can leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, well… It's, it's good news,” she said in a strange tone, like sad or disappointed.

“But I don't know, maybe, maybe I'll stay here a little longer. I'm very comfortable in this village,” you said sighing, rocking in the chair.

You almost fell when the lady in black suddenly slammed her fist on the table.

“No,” she said with a dangerous hiss, shaking her head. “You have to go.”

“But, but…” you stammered confused, blinking erratically. “I would like to stay here, with you…”

“No! You can't stay! You can't!” she shouted, furiously throwing the plates off the table, breaking them into a thousand pieces.

“Donna, Donna!” the doll shrieked, trying to calm her owner's fury.

“Donna, hey, calm down…”you said, getting up to put your hands on her shoulders. She seemed out of it, terribly nervous. “I, I've been thinking about it and… Well, maybe, maybe it's okay here…”

“No, no, no… You have to leave this place, it's, it's dangerous,” she murmured, letting you take her sweaty hand. “Please, go, I’m begging you.”

“Dangerous?” you asked curiously, frowning. “Donna, what's going on in this place?”

“You don't want to know and, and it's better this way, okay? You have to go as soon as possible, you have to go before… Cazzo… Please…” she whispered, now squeezing your hands with a pleading look. “I don't expect you to understand but… You have to get out of here. (Y/N)…”

“Okay, I…” you said, feeling the lady's fear, one that seemed impossible for someone like her. Maybe she was serious. “Then, then come with me. Let's go on a trip through Europe, the two of us…”

“I can't…” she whispered, shaking her head. “I can't get out of here…”

“Donna,” you sighed sad, disappointed. The story ended before it started.

“You're the only person I've really talked to in many years… I… I'll always remember you…” she sighed again, searching for something among the broken plates, taking out a kind of medallion hanging from a golden chain. “I wanted to give you this so, so you wouldn't forget me…”

“I could never forget you, Donna,” you whispered, getting a little closer, putting one hand on her cheek while the other played with the medallion. “But, but I don't have anything to give you.”

She laughed, letting a tear slide down her cheek, caressing you with her soft hand.

“But I have something in mind…” you sighed, closing your eyes, slowly approaching her lips, kissing them softly.

It was a short kiss, but one that confirmed the rumors you heard in your heart. Goodbyes were always the worst part of your trips, and even more so, having to leave such a wonderful woman.

“Don't forget about me, okay?” the lady sobbed, kissing you again and resting her forehead on yours. “I will never do, (Y/N)…”

You nodded, deciding it was the best time to leave, to let her hands go and get away from the warmth of her gaze.

The cold of the night cut your skin, tears froze on your cheeks. Why did you have to leave? It seemed like an absurd question because, even though you wanted to stay, you obeyed that woman in black, the woman you were terribly in love with.

The Duke and the Heisenberg guy kept their word and your car was waiting for you. Sobbing, finding a growing danger in that place, you put the key in the ignition, taking a last look at the village.

“Danger... what danger? Damn it...” you protested, hitting the steering wheel.

It was time to go back, to go back to your old life. You had no family, no friends, no one waiting for you, no promising future. All you had was Donna, and you were going to leave her behind because of an absurd fear that you didn't understand.

You put your hand on the keys, but you didn't turn them.

“What am I doing? Fuck it, throw me all the living dolls you want, I'm staying with you…” you hissed, leaving the vehicle with a bang and throwing the keys into the darkness, returning to the warm lights of the village.

It didn't take long for you to arrive back at the estate to hear some pitiful sobs coming from inside the house.

“You're stupid, Donna, why did you let her go?” the doll's shrill voice asked, which seemed to comfort a broken lady, who was crying uncontrollably.

“It's the best, Angie, if Miranda finds her…” she murmured.

“You're stupid, aren't you a Lord? Miranda won't do anything to her, she's always let you do whatever you want,” Angie said.

You listened carefully behind the door.

“But, but she is an outsider, and she doesn't like outsiders... She will kill her...”

“No, she won't, besides, the girl is stupid, she doesn't even know what's going on here,” the doll whispered.

“Gods… Angie, you're right… Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo!” Donna shouted, seeming to be running. “I have to stop her from leaving! Angie, the veil, quick! Angie!”

The door suddenly opened, making the lady freeze when she saw you.

“(Y/N)…” she murmured nervously. “You haven't left…”

“No, I haven’t” you said amused, moving the veil away from her face and kissing her slowly. “I don't know what's going on here but… I don't care, Donna, I want, I want to stay with you…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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