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buckyalpine · 11 months

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Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

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sapphic-bats · 7 months

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Warlock asks Nanny about it once.

She’s cutting apples for him, just the way he likes, and he’s gazing out of the window at the lush, green gardens that his mother so proudly upholds. Among the waxy leaves and spindly saplings, Brother Francis tends to the flora carefully, though Warlock’s quite sure he’s just taking certain leaves between his finger and his thumb, and studying them closely. But what did Warlock know about gardening?

He notices Nanny looking out those windows, too. Though she always gazes and stares with a deep intent, as if she only cares when she does, and it so happens that she never looks upon the garden empty.

What was that funny thing Nanny and Brother Francis had taught him? The thing that Nanny discouraged, to which Brother Francis promoted quite devoutly?

“Nanny, have you ever been married?”

Warlock knows what marriage is. After all, his parents are married, if you can call it that. They married, once, out of love. But it’s since faded. It’s more traditional, now. Out of convenience and a general apathy to trying again.

Nanny’s quick hand stills, blade edge flat against the cutting board. With her back turned to the young boy, he cannot make out her expression. He never can, what with her poised shades she wears pointedly upon her nose. But she speaks soon again.

“No,” she replies, simply.

Warlock considers this. “Do you ever want to be?”

Nanny, who had taken up the cutting again, pauses once more. She sets the knife against the board and tilts her chin towards Warlock. “Wherever have you learned such personal questions, dear?”

She’s not refusing to answer him. She never has. She just asks in true curiosity, and perhaps a slight avoidance. But Warlock’s eight, now, and he knows how to navigate her tricks.

“Where do you think?”

At that, she pauses, lips pursed with their consistent purple tint. The lipstick she wears, that faintly stains Warlock’s forehead when she kisses him goodnight and tucks him in after a bedtime story: often about a garden, or a bird that chirped too loudly, and was cast down to the ground by the other birds. One who became the kind bird of the grounds, and took in other reject birds that had fallen similarly.

She considers his answer a moment more, satisfied with the obvious influence she’s had on him. She turns back to the apple slices.

“Perhaps,” she answers.

There is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t mind, he’s grown up with Nanny at his side, and has become quite fond of the silence. It is where thoughts are made, she said once.

She finishes cutting the apples, and plates the sweet snack to serve to the boy. “What troubles you, dear? You seem awfully curious, all of the sudden.”

Not that she minds. Nanny never rejects curiosity.

“Nothing’s wrong, Nanny, it’s just—” he pauses, considers his next words and how to place them. “You look at Brother Francis a lot, and—”

Nanny interrupts him after an audible, suspicious gulp. “Who?”

He frowns, eyes boring into the back of her head. “You know Brother Francis.”

She seems quite comically nervous, like she’s pressed a wax-seal act over her true thoughts. “Oh, yes,” she decides, too much breath coming with her words. “The gardener.”

“You like him, Nanny.”

She turns, abruptly. “I most certainly do not!” Her voice comes out a tad shrill, though perhaps it’s just outrage and scandal.

Warlock narrows his eyes, perplexed. “But you look at him all of the time.”

“When has that ever had anything to do with- with love?” She struggles with the word.

The boy shrugs. “Mum and Dad don’t look at each other,” Warlock observes. “But Brother Francis looks for you, too.”

Nanny’s mouth, ready with a retort, or perhaps a counter-argument, flicks towards a different shape. One that might be, he does? Or perhaps Warlock is mistaken. She pauses, lips pursed again, and sets her teeth.

“I’m sure he does, love.”

The plate is set before him, and Warlock soon forgets his questions. He never asks Nanny again.

But he’s reminded of it when her eyes, barely visible in the light, flick towards the window into the dazzling garden.

Years later, Warlock is nearly sixteen, and has since let the thoughts from half his lifetime ago fade. They never die, just sort of… wait. Wait to be plucked again, notes of memory leaping from their tinny strings. Like a harp.

His mother takes him into town. Soho, where he has no interest in seeing, but his mother so desperately needs a new vinyl, a coffee, and though she never says it: a moment to get away from the house, or more specifically, her husband within it.

She agrees to let him wander. She trusts him, for all she hasn’t before. And perhaps, she says, the fresh, un-televised air could do him some good.

He’s only taken two steps out of the coffee shop, where his mother remains to await her tea, before he almost runs smack into two pedestrians, arm in arm. He takes a surprised jump back, tongue set with an angry scolding, when he gets a good look at them from behind.

“Nanny?”

They both freeze in unison, as if they both know the name, and the voice that has conjured it forth once more for the first time in five years. Warlock notices something else.

“Brother Francis?” He prods, shocked. “Izzat you?”

Both of the two now turn, and everything around the three fades into blurring colors and churning noises.

Warlock would be a rotten liar if he had said he hadn’t missed them dearly. He would also be a lousy boy if he didn’t recognize them by the backs of their heads alone, he thinks. Because he would know them anywhere. They’d always done a much better job at raising him than his own parents.

They both look different now. Brother Francis seems to have had dental work done, and has cleaned up quite nicely. Nanny, though, appears to have changed her style completely. Her- his? Their? Who knows. But she still sports a fine pair of shades upon the bridge of her nose.

The pair seem to stutter, splutter with a little awestruck surprise. It’s as if they’d never expected to see him again.

“Oh- Warlock,” Nanny Ashtoreth begins, feigning a cool-headed surprise. “How good to see you.”

She sounds different too. Less of a high strain on her voice, more natural.

But Warlock seems to finally feel a gear shift, and a puzzle piece clicks into place. He glances down to the space between the two, where their arms are linked.

In his dumbfounded state, he feels a smile split the trance.

They both see it at the same time, chins tilting to follow his gaze. When they catch where his eyes are, their stares mingle together in concern. It’s a look that wonders aloud whether or not they should be worried, or blatant.

Warlock looks back up to their faces. “I see now why you two left,” he adds, grinning wider.

He can’t help it. He was right all along.

Warlock remembers something, then. It takes all of his power not to burst out into a triumphant laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” he says, slyly.

Nanny’s eyes, illuminated from behind with daylight, widen. She remembers, too. Of course she does.

And she bites back a twinning smile.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #ineffable idiots #warlock good omens #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #nanny ashtoreth #brother francis #good omens fic #good omens ficlet #fic #ficlet #author #ao3 #good omens fan fiction

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icarusredwings · 17 days

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Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

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saintslewis · 9 months

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❝ 𝐏*𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: has anyone else noticed how his facial hair is a tad bit lighter? /j

warnings: sexual innuendos, twitter environment, cussing

requested: yes | no

saint’s team radio 🎀: y’all just have fun with this one lol. thank you for the request anon!

tags: @non-stop-imagines @alika-4466 @lorarri @httpsserene @yeea-nah @purplelewlew @goldenalbon

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fencer THAT’S THAT NOISE?

user okay everyone, time to leave these two alone 😃

user she’s so sexy, i’m so jealous

user when will i get a chance? 💔

saint speaks: hope y’all enjoy and i hope it’s not too short! onto the next one 🤭

#saint writes #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton smau #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #Spotify

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ihavethedreamies · 2 months

Text

Good Enough | Jisung

Park Jisung - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.3k [more than half is smut btw]

Pairing: Jisung x AFAB!Older!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends/Roommates-to-Lovers, Absolute Filth

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Summary: Jisung is tired of his noona treating him like her little sweet baby.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Noona, Sweetheart), Swearing, Very Dirty Talk, Kissing, Lots of Tongue, One Spank, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Rimming (Just a tad), Size Difference, Size Kink, Soft-Dom! Jisung (oof), Sub! Reader, Breeding/Creampie Kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: I had a mental breakdown while writing this lol. This might not acutally be the filthiest thing I have written, but it feels like it because of who it's for…for some reason. It's hard for me to believe that Jisung got so fucking hot, because I remember him sitting on Taeyong's lap, but he's a MAN now. i'll sit on his lap

P.S. FUCK

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He's my precious."

"Your roommate is your precious?" Jisung heard voices creeping in from the living room. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand, head peeking out of his blanket cocoon. He was still jet lagged after getting back from Korea, so it was about 3 pm.

"Yes. And he's not just my roommate-"

"He's your precious?"

"Yes. But! I was going to say he is my best friend…and my precious baby boy."

"Seriously? Isn't he only like two or three years younger?"

"My precious baby Jisung." He huffed at your coo, dropping his head back on his pillow in annoyance. For some reason his summer trip back home to see his parents triggered something in him. Jisung was suddenly extremely displeased with your relationship. He missed you horribly and you were pretty much the only thing he talked about. Once he was informed by his mother that he likely had fallen in love with you, he was…upset. More with himself at first for not realizing it, but then looking at how you two interacted, he got cranky. He was not your precious baby Jisung, he's a man dammit, had been for nearly four years. Did you see him that way though? Not even remotely. He was a step above a puppy, at least you accepted he was a human. But you constantly went on about how cute he was, and sweet, and 'a bean'; whatever than meant. You had even called him your son on a few occasions, and even though they were mostly in jest and unserious, now they really pissed him off. Jisung didn't want you to see him as your son (maybe give you one) but what really was bugging him barely made any sense. He had only heard you say it once, but it stuck in his mind…

"You realize half of the people on campus want to fuck him, right?" He was in his final year of college, and the only reason you were still in college was because you had stuck around to work for the IT department. Your friend's question was not news to him, but he was much too shy to go for any of the advances he had received. He was also much too in love with you, but he hadn't known that till literally the month before, but it made sense.

"Not allowed."

"Why?"

"Precious baby."

"He's not a baby, (Y/N). Not even close." You didn't reply for a bit, and he could vividly picture your distasteful expression.

"He might not actually be one, but he’s, my baby. My baby Jisung."

"(Y/N)." Your friend's annoyed tone was not nearly strong enough to match the levels he was feeling. Definitely not able to continue his nap, he sat up aggressively from his bed, kicking at his blankets before wrangling his comforter and throwing it onto the floor. Resting his elbow on his knee, he then rested his forehead on his hand, trying to breathe out his ire so he could leave his room without being visibly grumpy.

"My sister wants to ask him out."

"No."

"Why not?"

"No one is good enough."

"No one?"

"Nope, not even me." That was it, you said it. That simple thought was what really set him over the edge. You were the only one good enough, no one else could even be close to you in his eyes. Finally, the anger boiled over and he climbed off his bed, putting a sweatshirt on so quickly that he had to wrestle it in his haste. You kept the apartment so freaking cold… You must have heard him wrench his door open because your conversation immediately stopped. He stormed down the hall, even his socked feet were heavy on the laminate wood floor, so much so that when he came to the mouth of the hallway, you were looking at him with a shocked expression. You were sitting at the coffee table with your friend Hana, various papers spread on the surface while your friend studied for her graduate classes. Your green snake Squishmallow sat on your lap, and he wanted to grab it and throw it across the room, suddenly jealous with how close it was pressed to your chest.

"Ji?" It was clear you didn't think he heard your conversation, but Hana immediately realized, starting to gather her homework.

"I'm gonna go." She nearly shoved the papers into her folder and threw everything else in her bag.

"What? Why?" You turned back to her, and he then realized what you were wearing. Your slightly damp hair had moved out of the way, revealing the design on the back of your baggy t-shirt. It was his.

"Wait, Hana?!" You tried to get up and go after her as she dashed from your apartment, shooting Jisung a look as she shut the door. You had to shove the table to get up better, and even as you stood, you still clutched the plushie to you. Jisung exhaled harshly, storming forward and grabbing your Squishmallow and yeeting her onto the floor.

"Woah?! What'd she do to you?" You motioned to her with your hand, giving him a questioning look. You started to bend and pick her up, but his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back up and toward him, making your balance falter. Your bewildered eyes scanned over his face, but you still had no anger in them. Not even annoyance. You couldn't get mad at your baby boy.

"Ji?" His big hand easily held your wrist, and you squeaked when he dragged you even closer to him, so much that you could feel his breath flutter your hair over your forehead. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed tight to each other, but he couldn't seem to meet your eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Your other hand came up to brush some of your hair away from your face, only leaving it down to dry. Your fingers then moved to his face, trying to brush his bangs out of his eyes. Having you so close and seeing how far you had to reach made him realize how small you were. He was well over half a foot taller than you and he wondered how small you would look under him. When your fingers brushed his cheek, his other hand grabbed yours, easily swallowing it in his grip. Jisung held your hand, pulling it closer, and laid your hands over his heart. With his other, he yanked you the last little bit, so you were pressed to him, wide eyes rapidly scanning his face. Your head was tilted back, almost painfully so, still not recognizing what was happening. The hand around your wrist moved so his thumb could rub your skin till it pressed against your palm. Your gaze went to your hand then, shocked at how small it was compared to his, and you seemed to be registering how small you were compared to him in general. Did he really grow so much since you had met him four years before? Your gaze went back to his face, finally seeming to notice that his face had changed as well. Yes, he was still cute, but he had become devastatingly handsome, maturing into a…man. No, he wasn't a baby anymore, but you were in denial. Even then, pressed against him, even able to feel his toned muscles through his sweatshirt, you kept trying to convince yourself he was still your baby Jisung.

"Jisung?" You exhaled his name, so quiet that if he wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard. Your eyes followed his when they flicked down to watch your lips move when you whispered his name.

"What makes you think you're not good enough for me?" His voice rumbled through you, its deepness shocking you for some reason. When had that happened? You were so thrown off by the pitch of his voice you barely registered his question.

"Huh?"

"No one else is good enough for me, because they're not you." His hand had dropped your wrist so his arm could wrap around you, and he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. He nuzzled your soft hair, the familiar scent of your shampoo soothing his anger some.

"What?" You stood still, stiff even, trying to process what was happening.

"I don’t want to be your baby Jisung anymore, noona. I just want to be yours." He was a bit surprised with his sudden eloquence, but he just chocked it up to all his upset burning away any shyness he had in the moment. The anger had faded, and he was just upset, tired again, praying in his head that you would get the fucking hint. Your hand, the one he let go, had rested on his chest for balance, then he felt your fingers clutch the fabric of his sweatshirt. With his fingers wrapped around your right hand still, he could feel that your pulse had quickened, and you were minutely shaking.

"Y-you…?" You swallowed hard, tongue running over your lips, mouth feeling dry.

"I thought I just had a crush on you. I don't. I love you." His softened voice floated right into your ear with how his head rested on yours. The back of your nose and throat burned as you swallowed hard, tears sparking in the corners of your eyes. When you hiccupped, sniffing, he flinched, pulling back from you. It was only just enough that he could see your face, his arm still around you, hand still in his over his heart.

"Noona." He sighed softly, dipping and kissing the corner of your eye where a tear had slipped down your cheek. Nope, that made it worse. You burst into tears, chest heaving, and he pulled you back into him. You were…dramatic sometimes. Cried easily. Too easily even. Jisung loved to tease you for crying at a commercial where a little girl brought a quilt out to her sheep in the barn close to Christmas. You also tended to cry around puppies.

"I-I…I-!" Your breath was heaving too much for you to really talk. His nose nuzzled your hair, and he kissed the crown of your head. You sniffed, taking a few deep breaths.

"I love you too." you whispered, if you spoke any louder your sobs would take back over. He didn't know, but while he was gone you were in a much similar situation. You went to visit your parents as well, but it was just an hour or so drive, not across the world practically. You missed him so much, and wouldn't shut up about him, but your mother knew you well enough to see read between the lines. Because it startled you, having romantic feelings for Jisung, you became even more dramatic with the 'baby Jisung' talk. He was your best friend, and so of course you loved him, but you couldn't admit you were in love with him. You were so worried about ruining your friendship that you just ignored your logical thoughts and pretended you hadn't fallen for him. Nearly fighting him when he pulled back from the hug again, you stayed pressed to him, not wanting him to see your face. Not only was it red from your blush, but it was also blotchy from your crying and your nose was close to running.

"Noona." He huffed a laugh, trying to get you off of him. You gripped his sweatshirt tighter.

"(Y/N)." Jisung was fully laughing at that point, partially from your actions and partially from how ecstatic he was that you loved him back.

"No."

"Noona."

"No." Finally, with a bit more force, he pulled back so you could see each other's faces. The warmest smile you had ever seen was on his face and you froze when he leaned in closer. His forehead bumped yours and his nose crinkled, cringing a bit at his own actions but it made you giggle, which made it all worth it.

"Since when?" you asked. He laughed bashfully, lips pursing.

"I didn't realize how bad it was till a few weeks ago while I was still in Korea. But…I knew before that. Something made me realize…"

"What?" You were shocked when his giddy but shy face fell into one of panic.

"W-what?" His face bloomed red, all the way to the tips of his ears and he tried to bow his head to avoid your gaze, but you could just look up into his eyes.

"Uh, well…" He cleared his throat, trying to pull back further but he didn't let your hand go.

"Jisung?" You pressed with a fake stern tone.

"I…had a dream." He faked a cough to try and hide.

"Yeah?" You were clearly not understanding that he was so reluctant to say what it was, because it was filthy. It even made Jaemin blush. The extreme embarrassment in his eyes when they finally met yours clued you in better. You stepped closer, a coy look spreading over your own face, and he took a step back. His hand was still holding yours though, so he wasn't that desperate to get away. He clenched his other hand into a fist, bringing it up and pressing his mouth to his forearm to hide his face.

"Was it something bad?"

"No! Uh…" With each step you tried to get closer, he backed up, till his back hit the wall.

"Was it naughty?" You teased, and he sneered at the cringey word. Your eyes, still a bit puffy from crying, were creased with amusement.

"Uh, I mean…"

"Do you we do something dirty?" Your head tilted up to look at his face as he tried to hide, fingers clenching yours jerkily, the digits desperate to wiggle.

"M-Maybe."

"What?" You smirked, trying not to giggle. You were always more open about sex stuff, not quite like Jaemin or even Donghyuck, but still more than him.

"No." He was throwing your method of deflection back at you.

"You know," you got up on your tip toes so you could whisper into his ear, "if you tell me, we can do it?" Your suggestion made his whole body freeze, blood turning to ice. He nearly gasped when his blood then rapidly heated, the sound of his pulse whooshing in his ears.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, needing to make sure because even just the slightest detail would reveal too much if you weren't. You nodded with a hum, then gasped when he switched your places, hand cupping the back of your head, so it didn't thud into the wall as he pinned you to it, his other forearm holding him up over your head. You could only blink in response, looking at the conflicted expression on his face.

"I don't want to hurt you." What the hell had he dreamt? You were dying to know.

"You won't." Jisung's eyes met yours, brow furrowed in worry.

"I could."

"You could, but you won't. Plus…" Your hands came up to mess with the strings of his hoodie.

"Sometimes a little pain can feel good." Jisung searched your face and saw the determination in your eyes. The hand on the back of your head dug harshly into your hair, tugging at your scalp and you gasped when his mouth sealed against yours. Your teeth clacked against his with the force of the kiss and you whined, trying to match his fervor. You couldn't. His leg nestled between yours, pressing close and against your core, and you had to stand on your tip toes. The fingers in your hair twisted the strands around them and he tugged harder, tipping your head back more, compensating for him looming over you. His knee hit the wall, his leg literally hitching you up an inch and you moaned at the pressure. Jisung snuck his tongue into your mouth then and your breath was rough out of your nose, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth. Panting hard, he pulled back, eyes searching yours. His arm against the wall moved down to your side, still holding him up but also pressing into your waist. The hand in your hair left, the tips of his fingers soothing the slight sting he left on your scalp, then cupped your jaw. Your face looked so small cupped in his palm and something carnal, feral, rose in him.

"You're so little, noona." Jisung's tone was nothing like you had ever heard from him. His hooded gaze focused on your mouth when his thumb easily pressed against your lips, his fingers still stroking the back of your head. You watched his brow quirk up when you took his thumb between your lips, sucking on it. You had expected a blush to erupt, for his voice to sputter and for him to pull back. No. He smirked.

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?" Your head had to tilt up once again when he pressed even closer, chest to chest, leg still wedged between yours. You wondered if you had soaked through your panties and thin shorts, and if he could feel it. Then again, he was in sweatpants, but you could feel the fabric clinging to your folds and he had only kissed you. Yes, his thigh was pressed into your covered cunt, but he wasn't moving you on it.

"Tell me?" you whispered when he removed his thumb, eyes focusing on the shine of drool left on it. If you didn't know him better, you would take his intense expression for anger, but even with knowing him so well, you couldn't read his face. Jisung slipped his hand off your jaw, fingers pressing to the back of your neck, thumb resting under your chin. His face came close once more so close his lips brushed slightly on yours as he spoke.

"I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk for the next three days. I want to fuck you so stupid you can't even speak, just whine and beg for more. I want to make you cum so much that your cute little pussy stings. I want you to swallow my cock and I want to cum down your throat." You were going to pass out, you were sure of it. With how quickly the blood rushed to your core, your head swam. Where had your sweet little Jisung gone? How long had he been thinking like that? He couldn't even meet anyone's eyes if sex stuff got brought up around friends. But his words were thick with lust, and they swam into your ears and fogged your brain like a drug. Your thighs twitched, body shuddering when a devilish grin spread over his gorgeous face. He wasn't cute right then; he was destructively sexy, and it took your breath away. You don't think you could ever see him as your sweet little friend again.

"What do you want, noona?" The pet-name even came out different, he said it with near reverence, the single word a one-eighty from the four words preceding it.

"I want…I need you to do anything you want to me." His grin fell, he groaned, and his tongue was back in your mouth. He could taste the candy you had been eating while you spoke those fateful words, eagerly circling your tongue with his. You keened a whining moan when the hand at your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Your breath hitched, somehow where he gripped it gave the same heady feeling without actually restricting your breathing. What stole your air was the pleasure you were feeling just from his kiss. Your hips jumped, desperate for some friction, grinding your covered pussy against his thigh. Helpfully he pressed into you more, lifting you against the wall more, the weight of gravity pulled you onto him harder. The arm at your side that had been holding him up moved, he was using his knee then for balance, and his fingers teased along the waist band of your shorts. You whimpered when his hand continued, sneaking its way into the back of your shorts and panties, the hot pads of his fingers meeting your slick folds. You shivered and took heaving breaths when he removed himself from the kiss. His other hand was still at your throat, but he released the light pressure, making your heavy breaths easier to control.

"You're soaked, noona. For me?"

"Fuck, yes, Jisung." Expecting a kiss when he moved closer once more, he gripped your jaw, tilting your head back, thumb hooking your bottom lip. You let him move your jaw, holding your mouth open, waiting for his next move. His grin broke when he let a glob of spit fall from his lip and into your awaiting mouth. Without needing a prompt, when his thumb left your mouth, you swallowed.

"Good girl, noona." Slowly, he pulled away from you and the wall, stepping back only enough that he could take his hoodie off. He went ahead and let his shirt underneath go along with it and your heart leapt.

"Fucking hell." You gasped, reaching forward to eagerly run your fingers over him. While he wasn't necessarily to the level of Jeno or even Jaemin, for having a dancer's body he still had muscle. When had that gotten there? He barely wore anything tight let alone without sleeves, so you had no idea. He felt a wave of bashfulness rising, so he took control once again, pulling your small hands from his skin.

"Off." He prompted and you grabbed the hem of his shirt you were wearing, and he finished the job, tossing it down the hall. Clicking his tongue at your bra, you started to reach around your back to undo it, but he beat you to it. With an easy flick, it snapped open, and you let it drop, wide eyes staring at him. Where the fucking hell had he learned to do that?

"Jaemin." He must have read your mind and that made plenty of sense. Not able to even process your next move, he scooped you up easily, pressing you back into the wall. You squeaked, wrapping your mostly bare legs around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders, he was more or less eye-level with you then. He dropped you a bit, preferring you under him more, and his nose nuzzled under your ear. He felt the goose bumps rising on your skin against his, his top just as bare as yours. His hands once again buried under the waist band of your shorts, fingers so long that the tips slipped out the leg holes of your panties, cupping your ass perfectly.

"God, Jisung!" Your body twitched when his light nuzzles immediately turned into open mouth kisses, then he sucked hard, working the skin with his lips and teeth. Popping off of your neck, his tongue ran over the flesh, blood rising and pooling at the surface. The fingers on his shoulders tightened, the blunt edges of your nails digging into his skin, and his own hips jumped then. You had been trying to ignore the tent in his pants, but he grinded his hardened cock against your cunt, only a few layers of fabric between. Jisung seemed to be big in every way.

"You still on the pill?"

"Yes, why?" You shuddered once more as he licked at the third hickey he left, that one on your collarbone.

"I need to fuck you raw." He groaned as your cunt throbbed, easily feeling it against his cock even with the clothing barrier.

"Want to pump you so full, my cum's dripping out of you for hours." Your eyes rolled back as you whined, head thrown back. You squeaked when he jostled you up higher, those beautiful and surprisingly sinful lips sucking in a nipple. Sighing at the feeling, he wasn't pleased with the gentle noise, and so he nibbled the peak instead. You yiped like a dog (ironic since he was planning on fucking you like one), a little dazed by how high up the wall he had you. Despite the altitude, he seemed to be easily holding you up, though he was able to use the wall for help. When his mouth moved to your other breast, he smirked at the red and swollen nipple he left. Your body felt like it was on fire and you both still had your pants on.

"Can I fuck you raw, noona? Feel your pussy cling to my cock?" His mouth was at your ear again, having dropped you back down to an easier level. His dick hadn't even entered you and you felt too stupid to talk.

"Please." You mewled and your submissive tone made him groan. Jisung's hands left your shorts, shoving them down off of you as he partially let you go. Your feet dangled slightly as you toed off the last of your clothes, then you yelped as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"J-Jisung-!?" You yelped as his hand smacked your ass, most likely leaving a big red print on your skin. The sting of the spank sent tendrils of fire right to your cunt as he stormed down the hall toward your room, your bed bigger than his. You flinched at the slam of your door as he closed it, huffing as he nearly dropped you.

"Knees." He prompted, ordered, and your body instantly obeyed. Going down the rest of the way to the floor, you sat with your knees in an 'M', gazing up at him with big glossy eyes. You were trying hard not to gape at the bulge in his sweatpants, or to run your gaze hungrily over his bare torso.

"Go ahead, noona." He nearly laughed at your eagerness, quickly reaching for the waistband of his pants and pulling them off, his hard cock bobbing in the air before you. Your wide, enraptured stare on his dick gave him a rush of nerves and pride all at once. While you came to terms with your fate, he shoved his sweatpants to the side, and you shuffled forward. Whimpering, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, big and pretty like him. Swallowing your eyes met his.

"C-Can I grab something?" Your request threw him off, but he nodded, and you scrambled up and to your nightstand. Trotting back over, you stood demurely before him, holding the item out with both palms up. He took the little bottle from you, looking at it.

"Throat numbing spray?" His brow crooked and he looked at you, biting your lip with a giddy glaze over your eyes. It still had plastic wrap on the nozzle. Nodding once, you sank back to your knees, and he groaned low when you opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Why do you have this, noona?" His tone was slightly patronizing as he tore the plastic off, then spritzed the watermelon flavored spray into your mouth. Swallowing a few times, the dull sensation you could even register faded, leaving a very minute feeling in your throat.

"Guess." You giggled, hand wrapping back around his cock. Jisung buried his hand in your hair again, tugging hard to make you look back up at him.

"You've used it before?"

"I'm not a virgin, Ji." Your normal, casual tone didn't sit right with him in the moment, and he twisted your hair again, the stinging twinge making you moan softly.

"Only for me now?"

"Yes." You nodded to further emphasize your point, and his grip loosened. With a much softer hold on your head, he pressed you closer, letting you take over. Swallowing a buildup of saliva, your tongue swirled around the head of his dick, the salty taste of his precum eagerly lapped up. He was barely half-way in your mouth when the head hit your numbed throat, your jaw protesting some already. His eyes shut as he groaned, only fluttering open to watch you take his cock even deeper down your throat. The spray helped you not to gag, and you swallowed over and over, holding your breath, your nose pressing to his groin. Your hand fell, landing next to your other one as you pressed your hands to the floor. Pulling back enough that you could breathe, you twisted your head like a curious dog, eyes searing into his.

"Ready?" You moaned and his hands were back in your hair, hips jumping, burying his cock back inside your throat. Despite the numbing, tears sprung to your eyes, a slight gag leaving you. Holding still like a good girl, Jisung pumped his fat cock into your mouth and down your throat, breathing harshly through your nose when you could.

"Fuck, you feel so good, noona." He sighed, head thrown back, making sure not to use full force as he rolled his hips. Even with him holding back, you could feel the strength of his movements and you felt a puddle of wet forming on the laminate floor under you, cunt clenching around nothing.

"You better swallow it all, (Y/N)." He tried not to whimper, but he couldn't help it, letting you inhale deeply before burying his cock all the way into your gullet, pumping thick strands of hot cum down your throat. Your core spasmed, eyes fluttering as you eagerly swallowed over and over, the heat of his release warming your chest. When you woke up that morning you never dreamed you would be eagerly swallowing Jisung's cock as he came buckets down your throat. As the last little wave died, he quickly removed his still half-hard cock, brow furrowing with worry as you gasped for air. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, face red and messy, but you opened up, tongue out, to show him you obediently swallowed every drop.

"You're so fucking good, sweetheart." You gasped softly, the pet-name going straight to your needy cunt. Jisung used his index finger to gather the saliva and pre that had dripped down your chin, letting you lick it off.

"Get on the bed, it's my turn." As soon as his finger retracted, you stood quickly, albeit shakily and went to stand by the bed.

"W-which way?" His hands on your shoulders turned you to face the bed, back to him. With a shove, you fell onto the mattress, chest pressed to the surface, hips bumping the end of the bed. You then heard a light thump, and his hands were back on your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped as his thumbs spread your soaking folds, blowing a stream of air against your fluttering core.

"Did you cum when I did, sweetheart?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl." You could hear his smirk, then you cried out as you buried your hands into the sheets, his tongue burrowing into your hot cunt. Jisung easily held your hips still, his arm wrapping around the front of your legs, his free hand splayed over the small of your back. When his tongue left your pussy, it swirled over your clit, and he sucked it in once before running through the slit of your folds and wiggling back inside. He did this a few more times, eagerly drinking your slick.

"Fuckfuckfuck." You shuddered, not even able to warn him as your next orgasm hit, much stronger than the small one you had not even five minutes prior. He held you down as your body shook, gummy walls fluttering and throbbing around his tongue.

"You taste so good, noona." You nearly heard him lick his lips, pulse still whooshing in your ears.

"A-ah?!" You squealed when his hands parted your ass cheeks, his tongue moving up from your soaking cunt and swirling over your pucker.

"J-Jisung!?" You gasped harder, not sure how to feel about the sensation. Grateful you took a shower not even two hours ago, you still weren't really expecting his tongue to go from your pussy to your ass.

"Don't worry, noona. I just wanna taste today." He lapped over your pucker once more, then pulled back, huffing in amusement at your still twitching thighs. You were already tired, he could tell, but he was painfully hard again. Jisung's thoughts ran rampant as he tried to decide how he wanted you as he fucked you first. Your pose would do just fine.

"Hm, so wet, sweetheart." He stood so he could lean over you on the bed, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other hand leading his cock to run through your folds. You knew it was big in your mouth but feeling it at your entrance made you shiver. As the head of his cock started to breach your gummy walls, the burning sting made you sigh in delight, the heat of his skin scorching through you. Breathing hard, trying to relax, your cunt fluttered still as he buried deeper, slowly. His deep, low groan faded into a chuckle as he watched your pussy suck in his cock. At the last inch, he snapped his hips, filling you fully, head pressing into your cervix.

"Ah, FUCK!" You white knuckled the sheets, toes curling, forcing you to tip toe, his pelvis pressing to your hips. You breathed raggedly, getting used to not just the burn his fat cock forced from your walls, but the stinging pleasure the same burn forced through you. You hadn't been fucked in way too long, and you were already sure no one would ever feel as good as Jisung did right then. You had needed him, not just any guy, but him. That's why you hadn't tried looking for a date, your subconscious knowing you needed your sweet friend to rail you stupid. Jisung breathed hard as well, trying to let you get at least a little used to the stretch, but your sticky, wet heat felt too good.

"I need to move, (Y/N)."

"Please~" You whined, squealing with delight as he pulled back no more than halfway, then slowly back in. It was like he sucked the air out of you, then forced it back in, but his next thrust made you see stars. As he leaned over you, hips battering your ass with hard, shallow thrusts, his hands laid over yours, weaving his fingers through yours. The sweet move was overshadowed by his animal pace, your whimpers and squeaks just as feral. He was still trying to hold back some, but when he couldn't hold back a hard snap, he felt the same flutter as before and ground his cock into you as you came, spurts of slick coating his groin and balls as you squirted over him. Your shudders and pulses lasted nearly twice as long and when you finally laid still, he started back up himself. Your cunt stung slightly, not ready for the friction once more, but the pain just fueled the pleasure. Without the bed underneath you, you would have melted onto the floor, no strength left. Wanting to protest when he unwound your fingers, he fell forward, his bare chest to your back. Not too tightly, he wrapped his arm under you, across your collar bone, then chest, pulling you up just enough that the arm around you restricted you, forcing your elbows to your hips. Your nails dug into the fabric under your lower stomach, Jisung easily holding you up just a bit from the bed. His other arm also snaked around you, his hand laying over your lower stomach. You were sensitive there, more than most people, and just the pressure alone made you mewl. Jisung pressed harder, able to feel the bulge of his cock below your skin and as he settled into position, you realized why he was holding you so tight. He was holding you in place. His next thrust started with only the head of him inside, then he barreled his cock back into you, fucking you with abandon. You gasped, not able to even squeak or moan, mouth open in a silent scream, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth.

"Ji-Jisung-! Please, fuck!" You breathed out, your next orgasm washing over you, leaving the friction painful. The pain crested hard and fast as he continued to pound into you, fading back into pleasure. So much of your release and wet spilled from your fluttering cunt that it dripped onto the floor, down both of your thighs.

"I'm going to cum, noona. Fill you up, yeah?" He whimpered deeply, almost groaning, hips faltering just slightly.

"Yes, yes, Jisung!" He dropped both of you to the bed then, pressing you down into the mattress, gouging his cock as deep as he could, and pumping your protected womb and cunt full of hot cum. It spurted out in globs with your own cum, dripping a bigger puddle on the floor, the hard pulse of his cock even stronger as he filled you. Your vision blurred, ears ringing as you came once more, grateful that he stilled, actually really hurting at that point. Reveling in his full weight on your back, he then registered he was laying on you like that and pulled up just a bit.

"You okay?" He nuzzled the back of your ear.

"S-stings." You got out hoarsely.

"Ah." He winced with you as he pulled his still half-hard length from you, more globs of jizz and slick leaving your cunt.

"I don't think I'll walk for four days." You muttered. It took him a second to register what you meant, before he burst into laughter, pressing his sweaty forehead to your shaking shoulder.

"Good enough?" Jisung asked, making you hum.

"Fucking perfect."

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cupidscorpsee · 2 months

Text

You Missed the Damn Line

WC - 5,642 / 21 minute read

Warnings - Smut / 18+ content throughout / feminine terms used for reader

A/N: i’m ashamed of myself 0_0

In which you, an actress, are due for a sex scene with Hugh Jackman, but he has a better idea.

You tried your best, you really did, but they were simply not buying it.

“Cut!” the director yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as he walked up to the two actors on set. “What the fuck was that, L/N?”

You laughed awkwardly despite the director’s clear irritation. “You’re kidding. You’re making this impossible.”

Hugh sits up, careful not to ruin his carefully-messed up hair. He nodded in agreement. “Nothing’s good enough for you, mate.”

“Nothing’s good—” He scoffs, cutting himself off before he could finish mocking Hugh. “It’ll be good enough when you two get your shit together and shoot a good fucking sex scene.”

The director walks back to the camera and the intimacy coordinator beside it—a kind woman with a death glare pointed at the director. She sighed and looked back to the set. “Alright, you two. L/N, how are you doing? You comfortable?”

You sigh and lay back on the bed, staring up at the fake ceiling for this fake house in this fake movie that you were faking your way through. The life of an actress seemed to be a never-ending series of pretending to be someone you’re not. “I’m just peachy.”

The intimacy coordinator hums. “What about you, Hugh?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as that ol’ dag learns to be less of a prick,” Hugh mutters.

It was quite amusing to see Hugh this way, you will admit. He wasn’t usually so grumpy on set. In fact, he tended to be the sunshine in the movie-making cloud of darkness. Your countless camcorder videos of him cracking jokes or simply making a fool of himself behind the scenes proved he was always the life of the party.

“Jesus Christ,” the director groans. “Let’s just shoot the damn scene already.”

The intimacy coordinator rushes up to the two actors, ensuring everything from comfort, consent, modesty garments, and props are sufficiently in place, and then jogs back to the director’s side.

The director stood at the monitor, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the blocking for the scene. He was known for his meticulous attention to detail, and today was no different. Except, of course, he was a tad bit more intense at the moment. He turned to the crew and began giving instructions that neither you or Hugh could quite make out.

Hugh smiled at you, trying to ease the tension he knew you were feeling. “How ya feeling? Really.”

You cracked a smile, amused by his way of noticing when you were lying to the crew about your true emotions. “Tired and cranky. You?”

He shrugged. “Could use some supper, but other than that, I’m quite alright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Nothing about this situation is pissing you off? You’re really alright right now?”

He grins. “Yes. Bloody Oath.”

You smile softly. “Honestly, I’m really fucking nervous right now. I’ve never done this kind of scene before.”

“What about your first film? Ripe Age, was it?”

You grin. “Little secret…? That was a body double filming the sex scene for me.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and lets out a surprised huh sound. He then nodded in understanding, considering your words and putting together why you’d be nervous. He’d been in a few sex scenes before, but each one was different. Each acting partner brought their own energy and concerns. “I see, well… I’m right here with ya and we’ve got a bloody good team. Aside from Director Dickwad, of course.”

You laugh softly, not wanting to attract the director’s attention.

Just then, the intimacy coordinator approaches you two with her signature calm and kind demeanor. “Hey, L/N, Mr. Jackman, the director wants to go over everything one more time before we try again. Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The woman pulls up a prop chair from the room and sits at your eye level. You and Hugh listen to her intently, not wanting to miss something and having to re-shoot again. You’d done this scene enough times by now. “Okay, so we’ve discussed boundaries and comfort levels. Let’s revisit the choreography to make sure everything feels right.”

The woman held up the shot list and walked you two through the steps, just as one might for a complex dance sequence. You almost laughed at the notion of this being like a dance. Everything felt so ridiculous.

After a quick summary, the intimacy coordinator asks you two to get back into your positions for the scene. You slip back into your usual spots with ease. The woman guides you with gentle touches, adjusting a hand here, a foot there, ensuring your movements would look as natural as possible on camera while staying within your agreed limits.

You became hyper-aware of the small distance between your bodies—the way Hugh’s hand rested lightly on your waist, the heat of his skin warming yours through the thin, nude-colored underwear you wore.

“Remember,” the intimacy coordinator said after she was satisfied with their positions, her voice even, “this is a slow, intimate moment between two lovers who have missed each other very much.”

Hugh nodded, his focus remaining on you underneath him. “Right. We’ll take it slow.”

Your breath hitched softly at this. It was strangely comforting to know that he could see right through you and how you wanted so badly for everyone to be patient with you. “Yeah. Slow is good.”

The woman clapped, snapping you out of your moment of admiration for Hugh. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

The room was quieter than usual—a closed set. Only a few key crew members stood under the dimmed studio lights. The typical whispering and hum of equipment were replaced by a focused stillness. The room was dressed to look like an apartment bedroom—plush pillows under your head on a wide bed, soft lighting that cast warm shadows, and milky-white curtains that would sway with an unseen breeze after post-production.

You wore an almost translucent strapless bra, your nipples covered with nude-toned patches, and seamless nude underwear. Hugh, with a similar setup, wore modesty garments designed to appear as if he was—like you—fully exposed while still maintaining dignity. The garments, though strange and small, felt like a shield of some sort—a reminder that this wasn’t as invasive as it felt.

“Places,” the director called, and the set fell silent. The intimacy coordinator positioned herself by the monitor, ready to catch every detail. The director rested his chin in his palm, scratching his beard one, twice, before finally calling:

“Action.”

You and Hugh did everything again. The same exact choreographed movements you both had practiced. You focused on doing better than before, trying to make your rehearsed sounds and muttered lines seem real for the screen. Every touch and movement from Hugh was gentle and deliberate, ensuring you two stayed within the boundaries you had set beforehand. The scene was intimate, but the atmosphere between your near-nude bodies remained respectful and professional.

You moved together, your bodies close but never truly touching in the most vulnerable areas. You could feel the heat of Hugh’s breath against your neck as he leaned down, your movements slow and deliberate. Your fingers trailed down his bare back, your touch light, guided by the choreography you had rehearsed. You tried to focus on the script’s emotions—the longing, the fleeting connection…

The sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric beneath you, and the soft creak of the bed were the only things you heard—all blending into the story you were trying to tell.

Hugh cupped your face in his right palm, his thumb brushing your skin in a gesture that was more tender than you expected. It was a small, unscripted moment, but it made the scene feel real. Almost too real.

You falter and miss your line—an important mumble of the words, I cease to exist without you near me. Your eyes widen as you realize your idiotic mistake.

“Cut!” the director calls, the annoyance in his voice far from hidden. “You missed the damn line. We’re taking a break. I need a fucking cigarette.”

Hugh gets off you and you sit up, fighting the urge to literally face-palm right then and there. You groan softly, embarrassed by your own blunder.

Hugh is quick to apologize. “I should’ve stuck to the script. I threw you off—”

“No, no, I wasn’t focused enough,” you interrupted, shaking your head. You exhaled a frustrated breath and covered your face in your palms. You wanted to disappear. Your words came out muffled as you spoke again. “Jesus, I wish we could just have actual sex. At least it would be convincing.”

There’s a strange silence that follows and you have to peek through your fingers just to make sure you didn’t somehow fall off the face of the planet and into the void of outer space. Hugh is staring down at the mattress underneath his rested hand, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. You raise an eyebrow. “Hugh…?”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable, but not unkind. “What if we bail on this whole choreography nonsense? The director hardly knows how to write a bloody script. I wouldn’t be surprised if that dole bludger has never had sex before in his entire life.”

You stare at him blankly before blinking once, then twice. “What are you proposing?”

“Have you ever seen 9 Songs? Or Shortbus?”

You shake your head.

“The actors had unsimulated sex in order to portray their characters more efficiently. Of course, they had to sign contracts and consider possible strict scrutiny from the rating boards, but…”

You nearly laugh but grow red in the face when you notice his lack of humor. He’s serious? “You’re serious?”

He nods. “I… It’s a little mad, but we’re getting nowhere with this scene right now.”

Your throat goes dry. “This isn’t just some ruse to get laid, right? Some fucked up fantasy?”

“It isn’t.”

“You swear?”

“Bloody Oath.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you whisper, your voice somewhat emotionless as you’re too busy in a whirlwind of thoughts to pay much attention to anything else.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of his own nerves peeking through. “Ah, it’s a form of saying ‘of course’ or ‘definitely’. Aussie shite.”

“The media will go crazy for this when they find out,” you say, completely ignoring his explanation. It didn’t even register. It went in through one ear and out the other. “The movie will be controversial. We’ll be controversial.”

He smiles and cracks another joke. “A little controversy never hurt anybody.”

Yes, it fucking did, you think, but you don’t say anything. You simply consider his idea. It’s insane. It’s mental. It’s lock-you-up-in-a-psych-ward crazy.

But it’s tempting.

After all, any press is good press, right?

“We should talk to Aimee,” you say, gesturing at the intimacy coordinator who was sipping now-cold coffee from a mug that read, Teaching is my superpower, what’s yours? It didn’t make any fucking sense and for some reason that pissed you off more than the stupidity of this decision did.

Hugh nods and then huffs slightly. “It was just an idea, though, mate. It’s a bit reckless. We sincerely don’t have to.”

“Hugh.”

Silence. A beat of hesitation. “Yeah, mate?”

“Let’s get our movie done.”

You walk up to the intimacy coordinator, asking to speak to her in private. You enter the director’s empty office, borrowing his space. The woman sips her coffee and then sets it down on the brown desk beside you two, waiting for you to speak.

“Have you seen 9 Songs?”

She stares at you, a dumbfounded expression quickly replaced by one of steady firmness. “Absolutely not. L/N, no. Do you know what that could mean for this film?”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. “Aimee, we’ve been shooting this same fucking scene for weeks. This is the climax of the movie. It’s a pivotal moment. You can’t have a movie about transformative romantic and sexual intimacy without a convincing sex scene.”

Aimee raises an eyebrow. “You’ve analyzed the script?”

“I’ve read the damn book we’re adapting.”

“We’d have to change the rating from R to NC-17 or X, L/N.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… talk to the director. He’ll be the one to give you the green light.”

You nod.

————————————————————————

“Are you a fucking imbecell?”

“It’s actually pronounced ‘imbecile’, sir, and, uh, no. I’m not. I’m serious. This—” You snatch the worn, slightly bent script from the director’s free hand, his other one holding a lit cigarette, “This here is a fucking work of art that you’ve got. Hugh and I are committed to it. We want it as much as you do. As much as the thousands of fans who read the book are. People deserve a loyal adaptation.”

The director looks at you, stunned silent by the sudden balls you’ve grown. “You want the Wolverine to fuck you on camera for everyone to see?”

You shove the script to his chest, holding it there with the palm of your hand. “You’re damn right I do. I’m not letting you fuck up this movie.”

He clears his throat, takes a long drag from his cigarette, and then quotes, “‘Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.’”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. He drops his half-done cigarette on the concrete floor and stomps on it with his shoe, like a kid murdering a helpless ant just because he can. “But we’ll have to change the rating of the film. Expect less raving reviews and more controversy-fueled attention. You’re not winning a damn Oscar from this, kid. That’s out the window now.”

“So be it.”

“Tell Aimee to get the necessary paperwork to you and Mr. Jackman in thirty minutes. We’re finishing this godforsaken scene today.”

————————————————————————

“Okay, and…” Aimee starts, stacking the signed contracts atop each other before holding them together with a paperclip, “…there we go. All set. I hope you know that this is fucking insane.”

Hugh leans back in his chair. “I’d say it’s time I take a risk in my career. Can’t always rely on my X-Men reputation to carry me afloat.”

You roll your eyes. “Says the veteran actor.”

“If forty plus years of acting makes me veteran, what does that make you?” Hugh asks with a playful look.

“The total opposite.”

“Guys, please. Get a damn room,” Aimee interrupts. “Okay, so, the room will be empty while you two… Yeah. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. The cameras will be running the whole time as soon as I leave the room. Post-production is gonna have a helluva lot of fun with this shit.”

“They’ll have ‘shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks’,” the director says suddenly, having been sitting beside Aimee but mindlessly scrolling through his phone the entire time, seemingly uninterested in the legal, paperwork process.

“Do you always quote Heathers?” you ask, more amused than truly interested.

“Whenever possible.”

Aimee scoffs and then stands. “Let’s go get you geniuses ready on set. ‘Come on, it’ll be very.’”

The director smirks at the intimacy coordinator’s quick, witty use of reference.

They head back to the set and the crew fixes up the cameras and lighting before leaving Aimee, Hugh, you, and the director alone in the room. The director inspects the cameras before humming in satisfaction. “Fuck the choreography, then. Just… keep the characters in mind, please. Use your lines. I’m not paying you two to fuck on my set for no reason.”

Hugh smirks. “See ya in a bit, ol’ cobber.”

The director waves him off and leaves the room, Aimee following suit after a brief reminder of consent and safety rules. Soon enough, you and Hugh are left on the set alone, the cameras running and expectant.

Hugh sits on the bed. All the foreplay scenes were already shot and done a few days back, meaning they didn’t have to act anything like that out anymore. The only part they were missing was the sex. Just the undressing, the friction, the orgasms, and that was that.

“Come here,” Hugh whispers, his voice slipping into his impressive, fake American accent. You admired the way he could get into character so easily.

You walk up to him and stand in between his legs as he sits at the edge of the mattress. His hands make contact with your waist almost immediately, the thin robe with the production company’s logo on it riding up as his hands follow the curve and dip of your hips. You bite your bottom lip and watch his face as he feels you up. Somehow, it’s different than before. His fingers burn holes in your skin, making you feel jolts of both confusion and excitement.

If all the foreplay scenes were done with, why was he acting this way?

He grips her hips tighter, a small squeeze following suit before his fingers graze over the tied strings up front. “May I?”

You nod, not saying a word. This was new. So very new. None of this so far would even be in the film. Why would he bother?

He tugs at one of the strings and watches as your robe falls open, revealing the bare skin beneath, no modesty garments in place at all this time around.

He sucks in a breath, letting his gaze stare shamelessly at your exposed breasts. He leans forward and kisses each one softly. It’s a tender, gentle touch that you wouldn’t have expected from a co-star doing his job. “Hugh…”

He hums, his lips still grazing over your chest with no rest.

“Why are you… Do you need to tell me something?” you ask softly.

Hugh takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks softly, swirling his tongue around it in a curious motion before pulling back, looking up at you in an expression of dropped reserve. All his honesty was going to come out. You could tell from the look on his face. He didn’t even hesitate, simply looked at you, his eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other, down to your lips, and then back up again—a smooth, triangular motion. “Perhaps I’m very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it.”

“Perhaps?”

“I am very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it,” he says with a tone of finality, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does. The secret glances you’ve shared over the months of filming together, the careful, tender touches and holds at red carpets and promo interviews, the flirtatious joking and banter… You wrote everything off as friendly, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?

Hugh slides the robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor with a nearly-soundless landing. Completely exposed before him, you can’t help but feel a tad shy. Your eyes rake over Hugh’s shirtless, hairy chest and tight-fitting sweats that barely stop the hem of his boxers from peeking out above his waistline. He pulls you in closer, his fingers trailing up from the back of your leg to your waist to your stomach to your breasts to your neck to your jaw, and then back down the same way they came.

You suck in a breath as two fingers follow the crease of where your upper thigh met groin. You stifle a small, but audible moan at the chills his fingers send through you.

He hums and moves his hands to rest on your hips once again. “Is that all it takes?”

Yes.

You gasp softly when Hugh’s grip on your hips tighten before he sets you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours, essentially caging you in. He pulls his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion, kicking them off like they did something to personally offend him. You feel his erection pressing against your leg and stiffen slightly.

He leans his head down quickly, but stops just above your face, his lips grazing over yours when he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you direly.”

Your heart skips a beat and it takes you a moment to register that he’s speaking lines from the script, back in character.

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue claiming your mouth’s entrance as if it belonged there and couldn’t believe it had been away for so long. He pushes his body closer against yours, pinning you to the soft mattress as he pours all his pent-up desire and need into the kiss. It doesn’t take long for his lips to lose their way and explore other paths you have to offer. His mouth kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he goes.

“Been dreamin’ of this,” he pants, his damn good false-American voice hoarse as he kisses along your collarbone now. “Dreamin’ of havin’ you again. Been drivin’ me mad every night in the trenches, doll.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching under his touch. Every kiss felt like an invasion of privacy—but one you could very much live with. You needed to remember your lines. Come on. What was the damn line?

Right.

“You have no idea,” you gasp between kisses, his attack on your swollen lips refusing to relent even as you attempt to speak, “how many nights I’ve thought about this… About you. About us.”

He pushes a finger into your wet cunt without warning, as if rewarding you for remembering your lines so quickly this time. When had his hand even gone down there? He growls against your skin at the feel of your wetness around his finger, his free hand grasping your hip to bring you closer.

“I thought about it all the time,” he mutters, gently moving his finger back and forth in a slow pattern. His voice is ragged as he kisses along your jaw. “Thought about you, how you felt under me, how you sounded when I touched you… I was going insane with it.”

You gasp slightly between pants, but he barely lets you catch your breath before his lips are back on yours. He pulls his finger out abruptly, running it down your side, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

“Couldn’t get you out of my head,” he whispers, his voice still rough. His hand slams down against the space of mattress beside your head, a temporary loss of temper on display. Right. This is his character, you remind yourself. “Damn it, doll, I fuckin’ need you. I need to feel you, to taste you… I need you to be mine again. Fuck the war, fuck the politics… I can’t be without you tonight. Just for tonight.”

You nod softly, the action causing your lips to separate from his. He takes the opportunity to kiss over your closed eyelid and then the top of your head—an unscripted act that leaves your face burning. “I cease to exist without you near me.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can even begin by wrapping your legs around his hips, an unscripted act to counterattack his. He groans as he feels your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. The feeling of having your thighs on either side of him, the soft flesh squishing against his hip bones, has his head spinning. He smirks against your lips, realizing his mistake but not stopping. What’s one line missed, anyway?

His hand moves down to his cock and you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel him line himself up with your entrance. Things had escalated so quickly that it had your brain reeling. Hugh leans down so his head is right beside your ear. He whispers just loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for post-production to be able to remove his out-of-character question with barely any trouble: “Is this okay?”

“I need you, Ces,” you respond, using his character’s name and hoping he’ll understand your line as an affirmative answer.

He captures your lips in a fierce kiss as he pushes into you, slow enough to give you time to both adjust and choose to back out if needed. His body involuntarily shudders at the sensation. He groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Fuck,” he gasps breathlessly, his voice hoarse and rough.

You whimper softly, the feeling of being so filled up in a way you haven’t ever experience before leaving you making a string of pathetic, soft, unscripted noises. He rubs slow circles against your hip bone with his thumb, coaxing your body into a non-tense state.

He starts to move when your body relaxes, his strokes slow and firm, his body seeking more of you. He craves you, needs you, wants to please you utterly. No amount of acting could hide how real that feeling was for him.

He pulls back slightly so he can look at your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you struggle to keep up, your breathing uneven and your brain all jumbled. You were trying so desperately to hold onto the parts of this that needed you to be an actress, but the parts that were all too real were threatening to take over.

“Look at me,” Hugh whispers, his voice low and strained with his own pleasure, his hips still rocking back and forth against yours, though slower now so as to give you some room to think. “I want to see you. I want to see how much you’ve missed this, darlin’. How much you’ve been achin’ for me, like I’ve been achin’ for you.”

That last line wasn’t in the script and you noticed that immediately. It was, however, in the book. The thought that the Hugh Jackman had read the novel before starring in the adaptation sent a shiver of affection down your spine. It was more than just lust. You wanted him bad. In more ways than one.

You open your eyes, Hugh’s face slowly blurring back into focus. The look on your face, the way you looked at him with such desperate need as you bit down a soft moan, your nails digging into the flesh of his arm, makes his heart pound. He captures your lips again, his kiss harsh as he swallows the involuntary moan you’re forced to let out.

You know there’s another line you have to deliver—and soon. But you can’t remember it. Your brain is a fuzzy mess as he picks up the pace a bit, pushing you further into the mattress. A particularly hard thrust—the motion like a punishment for your forgetfulness—has you gasp into his mouth and he groans in response.

I want you to forget the war when you’re with me. Let me take that away.

Those were her next lines. All she had to do was say them. Why couldn’t she?

Hugh thrusts into her faster now, as if chasing his own release and forgetting the matter at hand.

That’s why.

“I want—”

He swallows whatever you were going to say with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth all over again. So much for getting all your lines in. He doesn’t want to hear you say anything right now. He just wants to hear the sounds you make so he can commit them to memory in case this never happens again.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes dark and intense. “Say my name, dollface. Say it.”

Your head falls back and like a dog to a bone, his mouth connects with your neck in an instant.

“Mmm— Hugh…”

He smirks against your neck before moving his face down and biting softly on your shoulder. “Wrong one… They’ll edit that out, love.”

She catches her mistake, the bite on her shoulder serving as a snap back to reality. Or, more accurately, a snap back to her acting responsibilities as a maker of cinematic illusions. “Ces… Fuck— You feel so good…”

A shudder of desire runs through him as he hears your unscripted compliment. It does everything to him to know that he’s successfully making you feel good. He’s making you feel good. He presses a bruising kiss to your neck.

“Just like that, doll,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Tell me how good it feels…”

“S-So good,” she mumbles, her words barely coherent enough to make it into a decent movie. “Mmm— Like that…”

He feels your hands move up to the muscles of his tense, flexed bottom, your fingers digging into the flesh and dragging him closer, letting him fuck you at a deeper level. The pain of your nails in his skin only adds to the pleasure, and he’s nearly driven mad by it. It’s almost more than he can take. “Yeah? Like this?”

You nod and he moves faster, his hips slamming into yours now in a steady, primal rhythm. He’s consumed by it, the feeling, the pleasure, the utter need to have you as his, even if temporarily. He bites at your neck, your shoulder, his body giving itself to yours with every thrust.

“I’m yours, pretty. This… Everything…” he pants, punctuating each word with a deep stroke. “I’m all yours if you’ll have me forever. The war does not own me, you do.”

You’re momentarily stunned by his ability to improvise such in-character lines. The fan in you who loved the book when it was released is impressed and somewhat proud. Even with your mind a cloudy mess, you still manage to have your heart swell with admiration.

He kisses you again, hard and deep, his tongue pushing across your bottom lip before entering your mouth. He’s so eager with it that his teeth knock against yours multiple times as his tongue finds your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m never allowing you to,” you pant into his mouth.

The need, the want, within him reaches new heights. He grips your hips harder, his thrusts becoming rougher and more primal. It was like his self-control was aggressively and hatefully tossed out the fake window of the set. His hands let go of her hips, leaving behind a stinging sensation that will surely turn to bruises, and move up to the headboard behind her. You think you’re fully at his mercy now, but, really, he’s at your mercy. Completely and irrevocably. And damn if that doesn’t drive the both of you absolutely crazy.

You reach up towards the headboard in order to adjust yourself, but he stops you, wanting you to remain where you were.

“Don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers quickly, finding the right angle so he can drive into you with the headboard as his support. He holds onto the wood so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You let out a moan, louder than before. His cock twitches inside you in response, a clear sign of his enjoyment of the sound. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants.

Your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He all but moans at the sight. He releases one hand from the headboard and finds his way to your throat, gripping it just tight enough to make you gasp. He leans down and kisses your lips the softest he ever has—a stark contrast to his actions. “I love you, dollface. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You look him in the eyes as he says these lines, wondering if fiction ever does blur with reality. If so, when was that point for you two? Have you gotten there yet?

Your eyes shut on their own accord and it nearly sends him over the edge. His grip around your throat tightens as he nears his orgasm and he forces himself to let go so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. “Keep going, Hugh… Don’t stop…”

He groans at the sound of his real name in your mouth. The feel of your hands on his face, the words leaving her lips… it all sends a shiver of desire down his spine and his cock twitches involuntarily.

“Oh, God, I’m so close…” you mumble between pants, completely off-script. “Please, don’t stop.”

The sound of your pleading, you saying you’re close, nearly makes him come right then and there. His movements become more frantic and desperate. Erratic, even. His words come out in low whispers, as if they were reserved for her and not the camera. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

In a few seconds, you’re completely falling apart below him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You had no life jacket and the ocean had no mercy.

“Fuck, that’s it…” he groans as he watches you come and tighten around his cock.

Your wave of ecstasy pushes him to the brink, his own climax hitting him like a ton of heavy-hitting bricks. He groans and shudders against her, his body warm and damp.

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath. You smell of sex and sweat and everything you decide you’re strangely okay with.

“I think… I think you missed a few lines,” Hugh says, still panting slightly.

You smile at the joke, your chest rising and falling quickly, but beginning to slow down. “Maybe we’ll have to re-do it.”

“What a bloody shame.”

You grin and he pushes forward to kiss your lips without warning—the quick, sudden contact all the proof of his need for you that will remain long after the director will someday soon yell the final “Cut!” for this little film.

#hugh jackman #oneshot #smut #wolverine #fanfic

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twistyfish · 1 month

Text

Rest

Zayne x MC

The door slammed behind you and you tried to kick your boots off before realizing you couldn’t, because they were zipped and buckled on. With a huff, you bent down and yanked on the short ribbons of belt around your ankles, ripping the metal apart and unceremoniously unzipping your boots before throwing them in the corner.

After scrubbing your hands, you practically threw yourself onto the couch next to Zayne.

“I’m going to kill myself.”

Zayne gave you that disapproving doctoral look. “I told you to stop saying that.”

“I’m going to kill somebody.”

He sighed, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “What happened?”

“All of this week’s reports got deleted and now I look incompetent. Tara and Xavier are trying to help me rewrite them, but it’s hard to do it from scratch. Bethany told me she would report me to Captain Jenna, as if it’s my fault the reports disappeared.”

He grimaced. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

The hand that was massaging your shoulder wrapped around to your other shoulder and pulled you in to rest on his. “I’m sorry. That sounds frustrating,” came his soft voice.

“Has something like this ever happened to you?”

He thought for a minute. “Yes. I once had all of a patient’s files get misplaced. Thankfully, I was able to print new ones, but my notes were all gone. Since then, I take notes electronically. Is there something similar you could do to ensure this doesn’t happen again in the future?”

“I wasn’t careless. There’s nothing I could have done differently,” you said a tad defensively.

“I understand. But perhaps you could make copies of such documents next time?”

You sat up and looked at him incredulously. “Why are you making this out to be my fault? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did no such thing. All I did was suggest you take preventative measures later. I would advise you to take a chill pill.”

You exhaled and rubbed your forehead. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” Your eyes were stinging; you didn’t know if it was with sleep or with tears.

“I’m just really sick of feeling like a scapegoat when things go wrong, you know?” You said with a scratchy voice. “I swear I’m doing the best I can and it’s never enough.”

“I know, darling. You always put everything into the things you care about. I would be the last to doubt your passion for your work.”

Zayne gently pulled you into his embrace, cupping your head in his large hand and guiding it to rest against his collarbone. His fingers tangled in your hair and massaged your scalp soothingly.

“You are enough. You are more than enough. Your teammates value your tenacity and hard work, and I value your every decision. You are worth more than your work.”

You curled into his embrace, and he picked up a blanket from the pouf in front of you and draped it over you.

“Just rest.”

And you did.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x mc #hurt/comfort #lads

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mayaree-darling · 5 months

Text

Only in the Cover of the Night // Sung Jinwoo

pairing: sung jinwoo x reader

synopsis: your headache is not helping you remember that you have a boyfriend ready to care of you

from aree: guess who caught the dengue virus lmao i have three different sicknesses rn i wish i was joking. this was made for my bestie @fuyuu-chan coz she was dying from a headache but i needed this more apparently

content: pure fluff; no plot just vibes ngl; you have a headache and jinwoo is there to help/bother you

fic length: 1.7k~ (unedited)

There's a glass of water and some medicine on your bedside table when you reach out your hand for your phone. You're glad you didn't knock anything over - only grazing the glass with your pinkie finger and the aluminum under your palm. It would've been completely fine to have them there - welcomed even - since you did have a bad headache right now, but you shoot up in bed when you realize.

You did not put those there.

You immediately regret the sudden movement when your headache comes back swinging, pounding into your brain like a drum. You eventually fall back into your bed with a hard thump. Even when the lights are off, it feels like the room is spinning. There are stars dancing in your eyes that are just a tad too bright, but definitely more than a tad annoying.

You sit up but slowly this time, gauging whether you need to lie down and sleep the next hour away again. When you don't feel like throwing up, you open your eyes and blink at the corner of your room. You know you're seeing lights right now with the migraine treating you like a punching bag, but…

Are they supposed to be purple?

You don't quite remember if the stars in your vision are supposed to be stationary, either. You move your head this way and that, but the lights stay in one particular corner of your room, staring straight at you. Staring seems to be the right term, the lights making you think of two, purple ey-

No. No, you look away and lean on your side, taking a steady breath in before shakily exhaling.

You are not gonna get killed by some ghost when you're already facing the migraine of the century.

You ignore the lights - you can deal with the ghost when you're all better and ready to throw down with the supernatural, but not now - and turn to where you remember your bedside table was. Where was your phone?

At that moment, you hear the familiar ring of a notification going off. You squint, expecting the unwelcome bright light of your screen, but it's not coming from your table. You freeze.

It's coming from the other side of your bed.

Surely you just rolled over and left it there at some point? Right, yes, of course. You're overthinking things. Your mind is just stuck in a hazy fog made by your sickness. Your paranoia is just stemming from the inability to process common sense. You're starting to think someone is in the room with you just because you-

The bed behind you tips from a foreign weight.

You jump from the bed, but your movements are more than clumsy. You make a hasty turn, trying to face whatever is behind you, but you get caught in your blanket. It envelops the lower half of your body and before you know it you're falling. You try to hold on to the bedside table but your movements are sluggish and you miss it by centimeters. You brace yourself for the impact-

But it never comes.

You feel warm. Arms are circled around you, hands on your upper back and around your waist. A chest is pressed against your own, both heartbeats racing as if trying to catch up to one another. You're overwhelmed by a woody scent (and something… burnt? it's not much but it's there). Although you have an afterthought that it should have made your migraine worse, it ends up comforting you more than anything. So familiar. The figure in front of you leans back, pressing you closer to them as they make sure you're both kneeling safely on the bed.

You're warm. Their warmth is a welcome distraction from the migraine that threatens to make you black out. They loosen their grip ever so softly only when your heartbeat calms down. Almost as if sensing their effect on you, they pull your head to their chest, the hand on your back coming to scratch lightly at your scalp.

There's a new beating in your head, in your ear, but this one is pleasant and makes you feel like you're in a dream you don't want to wake up from. You see a pair of purple eyes in the opposite corner of the room. They blink at you once before becoming one with the dark.

"Did I scare you, sarang?" The voice is muffled. Is it because of your headache again? But you feel it numbly vibrate through your head. You barely feel soft lips against your hair, but it's there, and the knowledge that it's present calms you impossibly more. "Sorry, I should have come through the door."

You reach up and grasp the back of their, his - Jinwoo's - coat. You run your hand up and down his back, trying to bring yourself back to the present with each feel of his coat's texture. Without meaning to though, the action makes him shiver underneath your fingers and you hear him suck in a breath. You feel more awake than you've ever been as you let out a muffled laugh into his sweater.

"You definitely should have come through the door," you mumble, burying yourself further in his chest. He definitely smells burnt. "I thought someone broke in."

"That would be a stupid move on their part. Beru would have slit their throats the moment they touched the door knob," Jinwoo scoffs and you can almost see the smirk on his face.

You groan as Jinwoo shifts in position. He holds you close still, making sure you're nestled in his arms. He leans on the headboard. "It's great you're not a burglar then. I don't feel like cleaning up blood right now."

He hums, tucking your face in his neck and placing his chin over your head. "Bold of you to assume I would've let you clean that. The only thing you would have to worry about is the floor being slightly wet with hydrogen peroxide."

"Can't let them find any evidence." You breathe out a laugh.

"I can even go the extra mile and make sure no one ever looks for him if you want."

"Thanks for the offer. I'll make sure to remember it." you manage another small laugh and Jinwoo offers a small scratch to your scalp in response.

A quiet fills the room and if not for your boyfriend's overwhelmingly comforting presence, you'd think you were still alone with your thoughts and pounding headache. Thanks to him, you were able to forget about the pain for a few minutes. You would've been able to be lulled to sleep again if not for something tickling at your senses, especially now that you're so close.

"What are you doing here? You should've gone home after finishing your dungeons."

"Who said I went to any dungeons today? I could've just been lazing at home for a change and thought about checking on my wonderful significant other," Jinwoo gasps mockingly, and when you look up at him, you find purple glowing eyes looking at you mirthfully.

You laugh blankly. "You talk like I don't know you. I think you'd keel over if you stopped going to dungeons. Also, your clothes are all burnt. I can smell it clearly even with this headache."

"Oh, sorry about that." He holds your shoulders, ready to move you away from him, but he doesn't. He just holds you, not quite sure or willing to push you away. "Should… should I go take a shower first?"

"No, don't go. I was joking," you huddle yourself closer to him. "Do that later. But not right now please."

He lets out a chuckle before relenting and bringing you back in his arms. "Anything I can do to help you feel better?"

"No, no, I'm good I just-" your words are cut short with your stomach rumbling. You don't say anything, and neither does he, but you know he's looking at you like you're a liar. You can feel yourself flush. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little hungry."

"I'll get you something to eat, then. I'll make you something good." he shifts his weight, ready to either get up or sink further into the sheets.

"Don't burn my kitchen again, Sung Jinwoo, or I swear this is the last time I'm letting you into my house." you poke at his side and he winces.

He takes the hand poking him and he pulls it up to his lips, kissing your wrist. You're thankful he can't see your face right now. Or maybe he can? You're not about to test that theory. "Bold of you to think you can keep your boyfriend out."

"Bold of you to think I can't break up with you. If I break up with you then it's considered trespassing whenever you enter my house uninvited, isn't it?" you try to fight back the grin that threatens to push at your lips.

The grin disappears, however, when you're suddenly thrown onto your back. Your fall is cushioned by a soft mattress and even softer arms. Jinwoo's weight is shifted on top of you as he hugs you, head on your chest and body slotted in between your legs. He buries his head in your chest, before reaching up and putting your hand over his hair. When the initial shock has passed, you grin and scratch at his scalp, too.

Jinwoo's voice is muffled. "…Please don't do that."

You laugh, lightly pulling at his hair. "Mhm, yeah, that's what I thought."

Jinwoo lifts his head enough to see your face, purple eyes almost glittering in the dark. "I promise not to burn your well-maintained kitchen with my awful skills."

He reaches over to the bedside table to flick the night light on, but you feel him stop short. His arms return to wrap itself around you once more and he buries his head back into your chest.

"Jinwoo?"

He groans before tightening his hold on you. "Let's stay like this for a while more, is that okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. I'd like that, too."

So you stay in the dark. You think you see purple lights in the corner of your room again. Watching, curious.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo reader insert #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling reader insert #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling fanfic

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

Note

Excuse me? I really love your work and I was just wondering if we can get another chapter of Passion for Fashion?? I really love that but no rush whether or not u wanna. (Also, I'd love to see the Batfam or croc or anyone be educated WHAT KC actually is lololol I just think it would be fun.)

Danny stares at the man across from him with barely concealed bemusement. Red Robin hides behind his menu, muttering about all the pizza toppings.

It seemed pineapple was a must, and he fought not to wrinkle his nose as various people shot their table side glances. He's noticed the staring since they changed, but Danny is tired of the lingering gawking.

He gets that his date looks suspicious in his get-up, but it's not the worst.

They had to stop at a second-hand store, where he went in to buy a trench coat, a pair of large sunglasses, and a fedora, per Red Robin's request. While inside the store, Red Robin somehow produced a blond wig and some makeup, changing his features just slightly so that he appeared to be a different person.

They both stop at a local gas station to change outfits and finish their prep work in the bathrooms.

Danny had gone in sweats, a stained shirt, and mismatched shoes—he had not been expecting a date—but when he left, he came out wearing an experimental style Dan had found.

It was called Corp Goth, and he secretly adored it. Maybe Sam was onto something when she said a pure black offit made anyone attractive.

It was a form-fitting black jeans, a top with a darker shade of black long-sleeve shirt, and a flowing black trench coat. Dan had included various jewelry pieces, with strict instructions on where to put them so that the style was "balanced," it gave him the slightest hints of old-style rock aesthetics.

Danny felt good about his clothes until Red Robin saw him. He didn't think he was that bad-looking, but if it caused the other to run into a streetlight, Danny would hate to think what other less kind people would say.

"Would Hawiian be alright?" Red Robin finally asks, his voice just a tad bit high. Is he that nervous to be seen by people?

Danny raises a brow. "If that's what you like. I'll do whatever you want me to."

The other teenager—is he? He looks older now with his make-up—a few years—and makes a strange choking sound. "Okay."

"Alright. So now that we know what to tell the waitress when she comes here, can we return to the fact you broke through my window?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs to get comfortable.

A girl nearby chocks on her water, making Danny's head snap in her direction. Her friends quickly pat her back and urgently speak to the blushing girl. When he confirms she is all right, Danny returns his gaze to Red Robin.

He is taken aback by the sharp attention now being aimed at him. Yes, he can't exactly see the other eyes behind those dark sunglasses, but he feels the heavy stare all the same. "I want to discuss your connection to Killer Croc and the Infinite Realms."

Danny considers it. On the one hand, he can't talk about his secret mission, but on the other, he needs to find some information about this place. He's gotten bored wandering around, tinkering with things while the fashion contest dragged on.

They have been here for months and have made no headway in helping Batman. Heck, Danny has yet to even see him. If anything maybe this guy will know some information.

But he thinks he shouldn't lay all his cards just yet. So, he needs to bend the truth a little.

"There isn't much to tell about Killer. He was involved in our kidnapping a few days ago. I guess they hired him without explaining what the job was since he came to apologize for almost trafficking us." Danny shrugs, thinking over his answer as he takes a small sip of his soda, missing his mouth slightly. He quickly catches some of the spilled drink with his tongue, mentally debating himself for being so clumsy. There is a gasp from the same girl three tables away.

Danny fights the urge to sink into his seat as he ignores her. "He said he sells drugs, not people. How he tracked us down is anyone's guess, but since he came all the way in person, I figured I should invite him in and offer him a drink."

Red Robin tilts his head. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you invite him in and offer him a drink?"

"Ugh, 'cause it's good manners?" Honestly, did big-city folks really have no sense of being civil? Amity Park has a small population, but there are enough people to be called a city, and none of them have ever been confused by the idea of being invited in for a drink.

Red Robin considers this answer before he leans forward. "How about your connection to the Infinite Realms?"

Here, Danny carefully selects his replies, ensuring that all his answers are accurate, just not in the way the others will get. "You can say it was my parents, but mostly my mom. She was the one who made the final step and connected the family to the Realms."

"Your mom? Where is she?"

"Dead," Danny whispers, thinking of his own mom, whom he hasn't seen in weeks. He wonders if she or his dad has noticed him missing yet. If they have reported it.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Red Robin looks down at his hands in silence in a show of respect. Danny can appreciate it. However, that doesn't last long before he lifts his head again, this time with a stubborn little tilt to his mouth.

"That wasn't a full explanation of how the Infinite Releams involve you or your brother."

Danny shrugs. "It's how we got our meta powers. The portal to the other side opened on Dan and me, triggering our ice and glowing eyes. We've been inside it a few times, but the portal sealed shut the last time. We haven't been able to go back."

"That's why you here," Red Robin says in great realization. "Gotham has enough death in it that it helps your powers."

Not really, but they can work with that. Danny smiles, putting one finger up against his lips, and Red Robin is true to his name by turning a lovely red hue. Danny hasn't seen anyone blush that hard since Jonny 13 when the other asked him out on a date.

It's cute.

"That and it's also the cheapest living city. Dan really has his heart set on being a fashion designer so we need to save money on fabrics and stuff."

"You're his model. Have you always wanted to go into modeling?"

"Not really. I like mechanical engineering more. Maybe when I finish helping Dan, I'll look for a school to apply to." Danny shrugs, leaning forward to give the other a smirk.

Star once told him that Danny's slow up and down was his best flirting technique after he had done her math homework for her. In return, she agreed to help him get better at dating.

He's not sure how well her lessons had gone, seeing as he still struggled to get a date back home (with the living anyone), but he thinks some of it was right since Red Robin goes even redder, if that's possible.

"Enough about me. How did you get involved in smashing widows and looking tasty in spandex?"

"I-um- well funny enough I-" Whatever he was going to say is lost as a figure jumps down from the darkness, landing on their table. Danny yelps, pushing himself away, but in doing so, he falls backward since his chair is not meant to be leaned like that.

He crashes to the ground with a swear, closing his eyes at the impact. The back of his head stings a little, as Danny slowly cracks open his eyes and stares upwards- at...a man in a bat suit?

"Moby Dick! Are you Batman!" He gasps, finally feeling like they are about to make a step forward in their mission.

The man glares down at him before grunting. "Red Robin. Retreat to cave."

"But-"

"Now"

Then he throws a smoke bomb on the ground. Danny leaps up, but both men are gone by the time the smoke clears. "Wait! Mr. Batman, sir, I need to talk to you!"

There is no reply, just the girls filming with their phones and the sound of speeding cars. Danny kicks the ground. "Oh come on!"

When he wanders home, he finds Dan lying face down on the ground with various ice cream tubs surrounding him. On some pieces of paper are various-sized hearts, the initials "DF + KC" inside them.

Dan is singing heartbreak sounds into the carpet, muffled by his tears.

"Dan, man, have some dignity. You knew the EverBurning for like ten minutes."

The muffled crying gets louder, and Danny rolls his eyes. He slumps onto the couch with a sigh. "Listen, I think I got a lead on Batman. It's a man dressed like a bat. How hard can it be to find him?"

His clone-turn-twin raises one hand, pointing to a smashed button Danny missed when entering the living room. Upon closer inspection, he is startled to find out that it's a miniature microphone and tracker. There is a very tiny symbol on the side.

"Did Red Robin bug our house after breaking our window!?" he asks in outrage as Dan nods. "To think I flirted with him!"

Dan sobs louder. "I tried flirting with the best tail I have ever seen in my life and you got a date with a stalker! We're going to die alone!"

Danny really hopes they finish this stupid mission soon. He's getting tempted to let Clockwork's bomb take him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #fashion for passion #Part 5 #Dan is in the trenches #He found the bug after cleaning the glass #Bruce interrupted Tim's date #Danny unknowingly looking mind numbing hot

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indecenthoney · 7 months

Text

"The Munchies"

---------------------------------------

Have you ever had that one friend who acts like a completely different person after consuming alcohol? I sort of do. She's a tad bit on the shy side. Up until you present her with some candy. Her eyes would literally glow up at the sight. Not to mention, she becomes the clingiest, most loveable thing. I may be to blame for encouraging such behaviors, but how could I not? I could never ever get another reaction out of her if I wanted to. Completely deadpan, with a cold demeanor. It's enough to break a man's heart. Which brings me to my current situation. I may have a little crush on her. Or well a relatively big one. I've been meaning to ask her out in a good mood, but as I mentioned I could never really get that reaction. I wanted to find some way to help her relax a bit without needing the candies. I don't know. I wanted her to like me for me, you know?

"Hey... How long are you going to be working on that? It wouldn't kill you to take a break, you know? Uhuh... Dude! Let's hang out... This project isn't due till what... Two weeks from now... We can totally take our time... We're already halfway through... So let's go play something! Me? What does it look like I'm doing? I'm hugging you... I'm not going to stop hugging you until you follow me to play video games... I know you hate it... That's why I'm hugging you, silly... Either way, it's a win-win for me... Aw... and here I thought I'd get to hug you for an hour or two? Good choice... C'mon, I'll show you to my room..."

On my way to my room, I found her eye-ing out my kitchen. It was pretty obvious what her intentions were. I wasn't really sure either what snacks I had lying around in there, but I sent her off to my room to choose a game while I scrounged around for something for her to eat.

"Do you want something sweet? I thought so... I'll see what I can do... Uhuh... Just head down the hall, to the right... Make yourself comfortable!"

It was inevitable. Then again, I guess I'd rather give her what she wanted rather than see her disappointed. You should have seen me. I was a man on a mission trying to find those snacks. Eventually, I realized that there wasn't any lying around and I had to bear seeing her sad. Is it a reaction? Yes. Is it a good one? No. I took my time cleaning up and figuring out what to tell her. On my way down, I found myself stopping at the door after hearing some "noises". At first, I assumed it was something coming from the television. With my curiosity piqued, I barged in without a second thought. Unfortunately, this put me in a compromising situation. Okay, I know it's my house. But I should know better than to walk in without a warning. My friend was there. Of course, she was. Where else would she be? You know, I just didn't expect her to be on my pillow. Rubbing herself against it. I stood in shock as she mindlessly grinded herself not paying any mind to me. it was like she was in a sort of trance.

"Hey! W-woah... Uhm... What the fuck are you doing? Hahaha... uhm... F-fuck..."

I wasn't entirely sure what to do especially since there wasn't anything to play off on. She was grinding away. No response. But upon closer inspection, there were wrappers scattered on the floor and bed. The shy little thing got herself high from consuming the edibles placed on the tableside near my bed. I quickly rushed over to stop her. Placing my hands around her hips to keep her down. Only whimpers and tears were replaced with the sudden stop.

"H-hey... Shhh... Shhhh it's okay... I'm sorry... Ugh fuck... What am I supposed to do with you? Uhm... Let's see... H-hey! C'mon... It's okay... Why are you still crying? You can rub... It's okay... Stop crying, okay? I'm sorry for stopping you... "

After consuming this many brownies, I doubt she'd be able to speak. I'm surprised she was still even functioning at this point. I didn't expect her to have such a drastic personality change after a few brownies. She wouldn't stop crying. I soon realized her trying to move her hips faster. I guess the stimulation wasn't enough to satisfy her. Luckily, I had an idea. Not to fulfill my own selfish desires, but to help a friend out. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Leave her a whimpering sobby mess?

"I-it's okay... Just for a moment... Sit here... I know... I know it hurts... But we'll get it settled in a bit... You just have to be a good girl and listen, okay? That's it... Such a good girl... Does it feel good when I rub you there? Hm? I know it's hard to talk... Just nod your head... Yeah? Ah no... No moving your hips... If you wanna feel good then you'll have to listen, don't you? That's it... Nice and easy... Keep those legs spread for me, hun... Such a pretty lady... So needy... So wet... I'm only rubbing your clit and you're just leaking... Why don't we take these off, huh? We wouldn't want to ruin your panties more than we already have... Shhh... It's okay I'm just taking these off and we'll continue... I'll give a little more than just rubbing... I promise... Oh fuck... A literal bitch in heat... Gonna slide a finger in, okay? Oh? Well, don't you fit perfectly around my fingers... So tight... Mm... What pretty little noises you have... There's no need to be shy... It's okay to feel good..."

Slowly digging away into her deepest parts causing her to spasm. Choking on her moans as the pleasure increases. Her hands clasped around my forearm. A sign informing me that she's close to the edge. Slowing down my pace even more to keep from finishing too quickly. Soft slow strokes. My middle finger moving in and along her slit. A flick at her clit once at the top. Sending a shockwave of spasms throughout her body. I knew it was about time to give her a break. Running my fingers along her body; lifting her shirt. My hands finding their way up her bra. Running circles around her perky breasts. Pinching. Poking. Tugging.

"Hm? You're going to have to use your words... I'm not going to be able to understand you if all you do is moan and whimper... Please? You wanna cum? What's the magic word? Fine... In a bit... I'm still having my fun... Oh? Sensitive there, are we? Be good and I'll give you your reward... Pretty little thing... Does it feel good? Uhuh yeah? Sound so fucking stupid when I touch you here... Are you going to cum just from your nipples being played with? No cuz that would be pathetic, wouldn't it? Almost there, hun... Keep it up... You're doing such a good job for me..."

Hands appreciating every nook and cranny of her body. Tempting her but never really touching the place that needs it the most. Lips pressed. Tongues rolled. A dance of oral pleasure. The taste of brownies lingered on my tongue. How many wrappers were there? I wouldn't be surprised if I got high from tasting her lips. If it were my choice, I would spend an eternity in this bliss. However, she quickly made her needs known. Whimpers and tears once flood the room. Her inability to stay still grew restless as I toyed with her body. One final kiss and I was on my knees. Pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. The softness of her thighs welcomed my cheeks with each kiss. I start to salivate; eager to run my tongue along the drippy mess I've made. In my own trance, I started eating away at her. A different type of hunger had filled me. Something that couldn't be satiated so easily. I wanted her to quake my touch. Moan at the very thought of me. Get wet at every little word I mutter as I adore her perfection.

"Mmph... Fuck... you taste so good, hun... Mmm... I know... I know... I shouldn't talk with my mouth full... I can't help it... You're just too damn pretty right now..."

Her grip tightens; pulling my head into her. Her morality leaking between her legs as I lapped my tongue into her depths. A wave after wave of orgasms causes her to shake. Even with my tongue gently finding its way around her clit, it brings her to the edge over and over. I found pleasure in serving her. With cock in hand, I stroked myself to completion. Even then it was barely enough to fill that hunger. Grabbing her wrists I stood above her; pinning down her arms before placing my cock against the opening of her pussy. Feeling her squirm on the tip. Watching her eyes roll back as the length of cock disappears into her.

"Hey hey... Shush... You're doing such a great job... Mhm... I know you came... I'm sorry, sweetie... Just a little longer, you can take it... All you have to do is stay still and be pretty, okay? Can you do that for me, hun? Mhm... Good girl... Not a single thought behind those pretty eyes, huh? That's it... Cum as you please... I'm not stopping you..."

Hands pinned above her head as I rut into her in the most animalistic, primal way. Enjoying every bit of her reactions as I pump my cum back into her. Even as she drifts off to sleep, I found myself using her and using her. Satiating my hunger. I was unsure of how things would play out tomorrow, so I wanted to enjoy myself while it lasted. Making my mark. Filling her to the brim. I wore myself out. But even then, I wanted to use her. Finger the very holes I came in. Fucking her with my fingers to keep the cum from leaking. Never wanting this happiness to end.

"Oh! You're awake... What happened? Well... You kinda nodded off while I was looking for snacks... You okay? A dream? You were moving a lot during it... but I didn't wanna wake you from your nap... Sore? Hm... You're probably just hungry... Here... I found some brownies... It's really good... You should try some!"

--------------------------------------------------------

Take a bite,

Honey

#cnc k!nk #cnc free use #corruption kink #degrading k1nk #intox cnc #intox kink #fr33use #free use cnc #humiliation kink #edging and denial #rap3 fantasy #somno fantasy #bd/sm blog #bd/sm community #cnc drugging #RisquéHoney

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dracoxsworld · 1 year

Note

Can you do a fic where ron was jelly bc the reader was being too friendly to draco and had to show her who she belonged to ?

Hello friend! Thank you so much for the suggestion! I hope this is good enough for you :) I’m doing some requests as I prep the next part of arranged, I’m very excited.

WARNINGS: dom!ron x sub!reader, kinda rough sex ngl, jealousy, angry ron, p in v, oral sex both sides receiving, fingering, reader has female anatomy.

photo edited by me :)

You and Ron have been together for quite a while. Everyone knew you were together, no one even questioned it. Ron liked it that way.

You were his and nobody could do anything about it. He had always had a slight jelousy for his best friend, Harry Potter. He always got everything he had wanted. Ron thought Harry could get any girl he wanted with ease. So when Ron met you and got into a relationship with you, he is never going to let you go.

This was his opportunity to show the school, his family, the world, that he wasn't Harry Potter's lame and single best friend, he had the prettiest girl in school on his arm; and he was particularly protective.

Some of your peers liked to use you to annoy Ron; or try to make him feel insecure. This of course, included Draco Malfoy. You were a tad naive to realize it. You were simply thinking he was just trying to be your friend. It started out as you both being assigned as partners in potions. Draco was well aware of you and Ron being together; and used that to his advantage. He’d flirt with you, constantly talk to you, all while Ron would watch, just thinking.

“So Y/L/N, what’re you doing after class today?” Draco asked, side eyeing Ron, who was seated with Seamus. (Not a good mix, by the way.)

“Oh! I’m not sure, I need to study for Transfiguration…I’m struggling a bit.” You said while chewing on your bottom lip, reading the inked-in instructions for the current potion you both were assigned.

“I can help you with that, you know.” Draco suggested. This had caught your attention, you looked up from your potions book and smiled politely.

“Oh, no I’m okay, I believe Ron is assisting me,” you declined, looking over at your red headed boyfriend; who was watching you both the whole time. His arms were crossed, his eyes were darker than usual.

“Are you sure?” Draco voiced again, stepping closer to you, sliding the potions book away with one hand. You got nervous, just before you could respond, Professor Snape announced that class had dismissed, and you’d have to finish todays project tomorrow.

You swiftly grabbed your bag and ran out the door, leaving some of your belongings on your desk.

You ran to your dorm room, feeling a sense of panic. You were hoping Ron wasn’t think you were engaging with Draco’s behavior, that you weren’t flirting back.

You shook your head at the thought. Ron knows better, you told yourself. He would never think I’d do that.

Does he?

You had opened the door to your dorm quickly and slid in and slammed it, locking it. You set your bag in the floor and flung your body onto your unmade bed. “Stupid Y/N. It’s so obvious he was flirting with you.” You mumbled to yourself, your face squished into your duvet. You sat up and looked in your body-length mirror.

Your hair was a bit of a mess, probably from you flinging yourself onto your bed. You ran your hands through your hair to make it look a bit nicer, and gave yourself a small smile of reassurance.

Knock knock knock knock

You jumped, and turned towards your door. “Please don’t tell me your name is Draco Malfoy.” You groaned.

“You’re damn right it isn’t.” Your boyfriends voice boomed through your door. It startled you, it was his voice but it sounded different. “Ron?” You fled out.

“Yes, open the door.” Ron demanded. You did as you were told and unlocked the door and peeked through. You saw your beautiful boyfriend looking down at you, looking not too happy.

You looked down and noticed he had the belongings you had left at your desk in his arms. Some potion bottles, your book, and some quills. You then noticed his knuckles looked slightly stained with red, and bruised.

You looked back up at him with your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, still peeking through the small crack in the door.

“Are you going to let me in?” Ron asked impatiently. You nodded and let him in, closing the door behind him. Ron set down your supplies on your desk neatly. Setting the potion bottles up on their designated shelves, putting your quills in ink you had, and setting your book in your built in shelf in your desk.

He turned towards you and slowly walked up to you. You were picking a hangnail, unable to get even a sound out. “Draco has taken quite a liking to you.” Ron seethed. You shook your head. “I disregarded him, Ron. You know I’d never—“

“I’m not worried about you, pretty girl.” He specified, his hand lifting your chin towards him. You licked your lips, looking at his. He smiled down at you. “I’m going to show him that you’re mine, he’s going to hear you. He’s going to see you all fucked up from me.”

Your underwear was wet, your eyes widened and you rubbed your thighs together at his words. “On the bed, pretty.” He prodded you, pushing you towards the bed. You listened, wanting him to do whatever he wanted to you. To be honest, you loved it when he got this way. There was something about it that immediately turned you on.

He took off he belt, keeping his eye contact with you. You sat up on the bed, your eyes scanning him up and down. He took off his uniform pants, sliding off his shoes with them. He crawled on top of you, his hands beginning to fiddle with your button up shirt. “These bloody buttons-“ He grumbled before crashing his lips into yours, it was aggressive but loving all at once. It was demanding, you stood no chance of taking over. You let him have control.

He got fed up with your shirt at one point he just ripped it off, buttons flew everywhere. “Ron!” You exclaimed, breaking the kiss.

“Shut it, you have hundreds of those blasted shirts.” He spat. He kissed you again, harsher, and unclasping your bra. He threw it across the room carelessly, not taking any attention off of you, he pushed you back toward the headboard of the bed, putting you in his lap so you were straddling him. His hands were everywhere; your hair, your waist, the hem of your skirt, etc.

Ron’s fingers crept past your skirt, and they lightly grazed your clothed heat. You moaned in his at the feeling immediately. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you understand?” Ron mumbled in the kiss. You nodded, hardly containing your sounds of pleasure from his fingers teasing your soaking wet core, your panties still acting as a barrier. “I want to hear your response.” He prodded. “Yes Ron, I understand,” you whimpered. Ron’s hips grinded upwards towards yours, as his finger continued to tease your core still clothed.

“Please–“ you begged him in the heated kiss. You wanted him now, you didn’t care how. Ron broke the kiss, still teasing you “Please what, princess?”

“I want your mouth,” You pleaded, your face pink from embarrassment. “What a perfect idea, pretty. Only if you moan my name loud enough will determine if I let my pretty girl cum, how does that sound?”

You moaned, his fingers were still lightly touching you. You needed more, this wasn’t enough. You tried to grind towards his fingers more, and he immediately took them away. You whined, it felt like torture. “Don’t be a brat.” He demanded. He slid himself out from under you, so you were laying in the pillows and on your back, and flipped your skirt up into your belly. He laid on his stomach and inches himself close to in-between your legs.

He teasingly licked slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you moan his name, your hands in his red hair pulling it like reins. He hummed as he got closer to your core, with your now saturated panties. You felt lightheaded, this wasn’t fair, you needed him desperately more than ever. Your core was aching for his mouth. “Fuck Ron, please please!” You cried desperately. He finally complied, hooking his fingers under your soaked panties and pulled them off.

“My goodness, excited are we?” Ron teased, licking his lips. Your pussy was dripping, begging for him to clean you up. He went in immediately afterwards, slowly licking your core up and down. Focusing on each inch. In circles, his tongue went. He planted a few kisses, and went back to licking up your juices. You threw your head back and screamed his name, forgetting you both didn’t set a Muffliato spell. Oh well, Draco’ll definitely hear you.

He hummed as he ate you out, making it even more pleasurable. “Ron, fuck!” You moaned loudly, felt like you shook your dorm walls. You saw him smile and he was licking every inch. His tongue abused your hole, going in and out as his thumb played with your clit. “God, Draco wishes he could lick your cunt like this, fuck Y/N.” Ron groans

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your legs were shaking violently. “Ron, I’m close!” You moaned. He immediately backed away. You moaned in frustration.

“Ron please, I can’t take much more,” you begged. Your boyfriend shook his head at you and laughed. he took your jaw in his hand “You’re going to earn it, you’re going to learn to not even look in Malfoy’s direction. Understood?” Ron demanded. You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks. Your core was dripping, making a wet spot on your sheets.

“You’re going to pleasure me” Ron announces.

You got up on your knees, which were very weak. Ron’s hard cock was easily visible in his boxers, he slid them off letting it free. He got up from the bed and stood towards the edge. You got on your stomach with your legs in the air and crossed behind you, taking his length in your mouth immediately, licking off the pre-cum.

“Fuck baby, you already know what to do.” Ron groaned, collecting your hair and making a ponytail with his hand, wrapping it around his fist. This made you groan in his dick, rolling your eyes back, but still staying stable enough. You pumped him with your hand and he guided your head, bobbing it up and down on his dick. He again, had a majority of control. That bastard.

His dick was hitting violently against the back of your through causing the urge to gag. You free hand was balled up in a fist with your nails going into your skin making crescent-shaped indents, trying to distract yourself from the urge.

“Take it, look at me.” Ron demanded, your eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Malfoy couldn’t fuck your mouth this could, could he? Huh? You’re stuffed with my cock.” You made noises at his response, rubbing your thighs together. You shut your eyes again trying to focus on not orgasming right there, even with the absence of his touch.

“Eyes on me, I said.” Ron’s voice boomed again. You whined and opened your eyes agin and looked at him. He threw his head back, his mouth agape, “Pretty girl, I’m close,” He groaned, eyebrows together. You bummed around his dick, head being pushed on it up and down violently by his hands gripping your hair. His hand pushing you on his dick started getting off beat and sloppy, you knew he was very close.

You went faster and faster, ignoring the tears and sweat rolling down your face. You felt his warm liquid roll down your throat as his dick twitched and his loud moans were all you heard.

He hands gently ran through your hair, he pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. His smile was wicked, but you still saw the love behind it. “On your back, on you go.” You excitedly complied. Your body was aching for him, begging him to fuck the shit out of you. you flipped your skirt up to expose your cunt, soaking wet from his sexual torture. Ron hovered over you, his arms on both sides of you, he leaned down and left sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbones, leaving bite marks. You moaned his name and begged for him to pleasure you.

“You’ve been patient enough, pretty girl,” Ron said sweetly, he likes himself up to you, and teased your slit with his cock. You whines and dug your nails into his back.

He entered into you, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full, so good. “Ron, fuck.” You whined.

“Pretty girl, you feel so perfect; so warm and tight, fuck.” Ron groaned into your neck. His pace was slow, it hit the right spot, he knew you so well. The room was full of your moans and the smell of sex.

Ron had sped up, the sound of your skin slapping together joined the sounds of pleasure you both were making together. His dick was hitting your g-spot like a arrow on the middle of a target. Over and over again. Meanwhile, he continued to leave hickeys on your chest, collar bones and shoulders.

He then sat up and tossed your legs over his shoulders, exposing you more. He railed into you, more aggressively now. Your eyes were full of tears from pure pleasure. The knot in your stomach was forming again.

“Ron, please– let me-“ You moaned, looking him in the eye.

“I am too, cum in my cock baby, come on,” Ron grunted.

After a few more thrusts, you both hit your point, both of you groaning simultaneously, Ron then pulling out and collapsing next to you. You both were covered in sweat, and each others fluids. Ron’s hands ran over his chest that was rapidly going up and down.

“Y/N?” Ron perked up, holding himself up by one arm, looking down at you.

“Yes, Ron?”

“I love you, you know that, right? I just can’t stand Malfoy talking to you like that..”

“Of course, Ron. I love you too. He’s not really interested in me, he just does it to piss you off, I think.” You replied, your hand on his cheek. He gave you a doubtful look.

“However, I should talk to Malfoy more often, that was quite fun.” You chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes at you, and gave you a kiss on the nose.

#ron weasley imagine #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley harry potter #ron weasley x y/n smut

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lokigodofmyheart · 2 months

Text

LET'S MAKE A DEAL

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x Stark!Reader.

Words: 9.281.

Summary: After the attack, Y/N offers Loki a deal for some short of freedom. A lot can happen when two people live together.

Warning/Content: small angst, smut.

A/N: Song: Like Real People Do - Hozier.

After the attack, they had locked Loki on a short of cell in the tower. After a couple of hours of being locked, Y/N went down to where he was. She walked in the room, nodding at the guards and stopping in front of his cell. She was a new face, one Loki didn’t recognize from the fight. Loki eyed her and raising a brow in slight confusion. He stood up and looked her up and down.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet.” Y/N says, with a gentle tone.

Loki smirked a tad, crossing his arms as he looked at her, tilting his head a little as he did “I suppose we haven’t, I would have remembered you if we had. And who are you?”

She gave him a polite smile “You can call me Y/N.”

He smiled a little at her. “Y/N, it’s a pretty name. Do you have a last name?”

“I do.”

“And what exactly would that be?” Loki leaned against the wall behind him.

“You don’t need to know. For now.”

Loki chuckled a little bit, finding her attitude rather amusing and entertaining “That’s not very nice. I want to know it though”

“So...” she starts “big attack with aliens and all, huh?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms behind his back as his gaze turned to the cell door for a moment before back to her “Yes, yes. My plan didn’t quite work out as I hoped for”

“I can see that.” Y/N gave a small chuckle.

Loki couldn’t deny that he found her chuckle endearing. He hummed a bit in slight annoyance as he moved slightly “You’re quite enjoying my current situation, aren’t you?”

“I little, yes. I do recall you throwing Tony out of his own tower.”

“And I recall him annoying me” Loki said, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s his specialty. Annoy people.” Y/N shakes her head.

Loki chuckled a small bit, finding that statement to be very true “Worried with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

He nodded a little, taking that information and processing it. It made his smirk shift slightly “Right. And what is he to you?”

Y/N smiled a little “Someone close. That’s all you’re getting from me.”

“That doesn’t say much. How close?” Loki moved a bit, now walking around the cell slowly as he looked at her, his tone was rather casual, and it also held a slight hint of curiosity.

“Close. And that that will never happen between me and him. It’s actually disgusting to think.”

Loki chuckled at her statement, finding it quite interesting that she was grossed out by the idea. He smirked a little as he spoke “Oh? You’re grossed out by the thought? Why’s that?”

Y/N chuckles, changing the subject “Aren’t you curious about what’s gonna happen with you now?”

He hummed “I am curious. I figure I’m not gonna get a good future though”

“Your lovely brother says he wants to take you back to Asgard, something about answering for your crimes, a trial and a cell...”

Loki rolled his eyes as she told what his fate was gonna be, crossing his arms as he spoke “A cell in the dungeons of Asgard… of course. It was to be expected I suppose”

“It didn’t have to be like that.” Y/N spoke, looking at him.

That got his attention. He raised a eyebrow at her as she spoke, tilting his head slightly “What do you mean it didn’t have to be?”

Y/N grins “What if I could offer something a little different. Not a cell...”

He shifted a little bit on his feet as he spoke “What exactly are you planning on offering me?”

“A bedroom.”

Loki was surprised by that answer, to say the least “A bedroom? That’s what you’re offering?”

“I’m not offering you freedom, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just offering you something better than a cell in the dungeons of Asgard. Better food. Comfort.”

That definitely made Loki quite curious. A cell in the dungeons of Asgard and going back to Thor and dealing with the rest of Asgard… or whatever she was offering. He weighed his options in his mind, before speaking “So I get a bedroom. What’s the catch though?”

“Well, the bedroom is in this tower. And you would have to live with the rest of the team.” Y/N spoke.

He chuckled, not liking the sound of having to live with the rest of the team, but it was better then going back to Asgard “I’ll be staying in the same place as the rest of your precious avengers?”

Y/N also chuckles “I guess I could get you a room in my floor, if you promise not to kill me in my sleep.”

There was a grin on his face as well as he spoke, his eyes flickering over her “I see. I won’t kill you in your sleep. You have my word”

She nods “That way you won’t need to interact with the team if you don’t want to. Oh, also you cannot leave the tower alone.”

Loki nodded in response, listening to her as she laid down some basic rules for him. It sounded like a pretty sweet deal actually. A private room and no interaction with the team often, that sounded like a great deal. He smirked a little “No big interactions with the team and I can’t leave the tower without any of you. I can do that”

“And not kill me. Or anyone else.” She smiles, having a litte of fun in this.

He waved his hand in a ‘pft’ motion “No killing you or anyone else. I’m a man of my word”

Y/N nods “I’m trusting you on this.”

Loki gave her a small smile in response, finding it interesting that she was trusting him on it. “I’m curious. Why exactly are you offering me something like this? It doesn’t make much sense”

“The team might need your...how can I put this...your expertise sometime in the future.” Y/N says as she signals for one of the guards to come to them.

He nodded “You expect you’ll need my magic at some point?”

“Exactly.” Another nod.

Loki chuckled at that, feeling a sense of pride knowing that she saw his magic as useful, and that he could be a powerful asset “So let me get this straight. I get my own room, you need my magic for the future, I can’t leave the tower by myself and I’m not allowed to kill anyone.”

“Oh, and no pranks. Thor said you used to do a lot of those in Asgard.” She chuckles.

Loki smirked. Of course the thunder-brained oaf would say that. He huffed in annoyance at the fact Thor had mentioned them, rolling his eyes as he responded “Oh of course he mentioned the pranks. Well I suppose I can promise no pranks.”

“So, do we have a deal?” Her tone was more serious now.

He took in everything she had given him, making sure he remembered everything. He then gave a slight smirk, nodding his head “We have a deal.”

“Great.” she smiles at him and nod to the guard to open his cell. Loki pushed himself off the wall as he watched the guards open the cell. He stretched once before walking out of the cell and standing in front of her, giving a small smirk as he looked down at her. It was a bit intimidating considering he had quite the height advantage over her.

Y/N pulled an ancient bracelet out of her pocket, looking at it “They said I should put this on you...but I think I can give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Loki looked at the bracelet in her hands, raising a brow slightly. He glanced at a guard that was near them before looking back at her “What does it do?”

She looks back at him “It blocks your magic.”

He crosses his arms over his chest as he spoke “A magic blocking bracelet. I see. Very nice.”

“Can you blame people for not trusting you that easily?” Y/N asks but Loki just rolls his eyes. “Should I put this on you? Or can I really trust you?”

Loki tilted his head as he looked at the bracelet and then back at her. He looked at her for a few seconds before sighing and hodl his hands out to her “Fine. Put the bracelet on me.”

“Why?”

Loki looked at her for a second before rolling his eyes. The sooner she put the bracelet on, the sooner they would be out of here “Are you really going to question why I’m letting you put a bracelet on that clearly blocks my magic?”

“Yes. I was expecting you would put more of a fight, saying ‘yeah, you can trust me’ or something like that.” Y/N was clearly surprised.

He rolled his eyes again, sighing in slight annoyance, before looking at her and speaking again, in a slightly exasperated tone “Can we just put the stupid bracelet on? We’re wasting time.”

Y/N nods and closed the piece around his wrist carefully to not hurt him and immediately Loki felt the effect of the bracelet blocking his magic. He tried to make something with his seidr but when he tried to he felt the magic hit an invisible wall.

"Come.” Y/N says walking to the elevator and Loki followed behind her. She looks at him for a few seconds after the elevator started moving. “Does it hurt?”

Loki looked down at the bracelet again, feeling it’s slightly cold metal against his skin as he walked. “No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s just...limiting”

Y/N gave a small nod, before she starts speaking again “My floor is one of the most privates one in the tower. I have my own kitchen, living room, two bedrooms with private bathrooms, one if mine, of course...” Loki nodded as he listened to her explain the floor she was leading him to. He found he was quite okay with the sound of all of it. He’d have his own room, access to a kitchen and a living room. It sounded good actually. “Oh, and there’s a small library too, if you’re interested in reading.”

His interest was peaked as she said there was a library too. A library? That sounded good. “There’s a library too?”

She chuckles “Like I said, a small one.”

Loki let out a small chuckle as well, the image of a small library was already in his mind “I must say, your floor does sound rather nice”

“Well, you’ll see.”

He nodded in response to that. “How often do the rest of the Avengers use your floor?”

“Not much. We usually hang together in the common one, where there’s the meeting room, gym, a short of cinema room...” She explains as the elevator was almost stopping.

Loki leaned his back against the elevator wall, continuing to look at her. He watched her silently for a moment, taking her in as he spoke “A floor all to yourself too. Quite a luxury if I’m being honest. Stark must be really trying to conquer you.”

Y/N chuckles “He isn’t.”

Loki chuckled at that, finding it hard to believe that the great, egotistical and cocky Tony Stark, didn’t have at least some sort of crush or interest in her “You expect me to believe that Stark doesn’t have some sort of interest in you?”

“Yes.” Oh, if only Loki knew.

“You can expect me to believe that a man like him hasn’t at least attempted something with you?” He says studying her.

Y/N laughs a little “Maybe one day I’ll explain why.”

Loki looked at her as she spoke, curious to find out the answer to his question. He shook his head a little as he shrugged slightly “And why don’t you tell me now?”

“It’s a conversation for the future.” Y/N knew that if she told him in the cell or now that she was Tony’s litte sister, Loki would never agree to this, he would think they would have a hiding agenda or something, since he clearly couldn’t stand her brother. Just in time to save her from this conversation, the elevator dings and open the door for them in her floor. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Y/N showed him the whole floor as he followed her, looking around and seeing everything. She showed him the kitchen, living room, the small library until they stopped at the door of his new room. When she opened the door to his new room, he looked in and saw it. A large bedroom area, with a king size bed, a night stand and a dresser. A walk in closet and a private bathroom too. It all looked rather nice and comfortable “This will do nicely”

She nods, looking around until she looks back at him in his Asgardian armor, groaning a little “I’m so stupid.”

Loki tilted his head as he noticed the look on her face. There was a look a realization. “You look like you realized something. What’s that?”

“I forgot you don’t have any clothes...or anything.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Loki says, a hint of sincerity in his tone.

“You still need clothes to live here, and product and everything. You can’t possibly be comfortable in that.” She points at his leather clothes.

Loki huffed “Well I suppose you’re right. Do I have to go out? Or can I just order things to be brought in?”

Y/N was already typing in her phone “No need to, I’ll ask someone to go buy it...Any color preferences?”

He thought about it for a moment. He had always been a fan of the color green. It had become almost his signature color. “Green. My favorite color is green. Also some dark colors. And no leather.”

“Why not?” She smirks “You're using a leather armor.”

Loki chuckled at that “Exactly, it’s a armor. Is not really comfortable as clothes.”

“Okay. Dark colors, no leather.” she keeps typing “T-shirts, jeans, jumpsuits...suit, shoes...shocks...boxers?” At this last one she looks at him to confirm.

Loki raises a brow slightly as he listens to her list off what he needed. All of it sounded fine to him. “Boxer briefs will be fine, yes”

“Okay, I sent the list. Probably will be here in a few hours.” Y/N says, looking back at him.

He nodded in response and turned and looked around the room he’d be occupying I suppose I have time to just lounge around here until they get here then.” Loki looked away from the room and back at over her “I do quite like the room actually. And the whole floor really.

“Thanks.” She smiles.

He smiled back at her for a second “What now?”

Y/N looked at the time, noticing it was almost dinner time and she was already hungry “What do you like to eat?”

Loki raised a brow slightly, not quite sure why she was asking this. Nevertheless, he answered the question “I eat mostly anything. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering if you have any preferences.”

He shook his head. He didn’t really have any preferences when it came to food. He chuckled a bit before speaking again “Well, I suppose there is one food I do have a strong disliking for”

“Let me guess, prison food?” She chuckles.

Loki chuckled softly at that, his mind going to the food he’d been fed while in that cell. It had been absolutely revolting “Yes. Prison food is terrible.”

Y/N laughs a little at this. “I’m guessing Asgard doesn’t have pizza...?”

Loki raised a brow, looking at her a bit confused. He’d never heard that word before in his life “What in the nine realms is pizza?”

“Just the best food you’ll ever eat. I’ll order for us tonight.” Y/N says excitedly.

He chuckled slightly in response to her excitement, but mainly due to the fact he still had no idea what it was. Nevertheless, he nodded he head “I suppose I can try this pizza you speak of.”

She smiles, getting her phone and ordering the pizza “You’re gonna love it.”

“We shall see.” Loki chuckles again.

“I’ll go finish doing my...stuff. In the meantime, feel free to do whatever you want. There’re books, a TV in your room and one in the living room too...”

Loki nodded in response to her telling him to do as he pleases “TV?”

She noticed the confused look on his face “You don’t have television in Asgard?” He shook his head, still confused as he looks at the TV on the wall for a second, trying to figure out what it does. “Okay. Here.” She got the remote and started to explain to him what it was and how it worked, how he could watch movies and shows, and everything. She even taught him how to use Netflix.

He listened intently to everything she said, trying to understand what the hell it all ment. After a few minutes he spoke again “So you can just watch movies and shows on here all day?” Y/N nods at him. Loki looked back up at the TV on the wall, imagining himself just lounging in the bed watching whatever movie or show he wanted, anytime he wanted “I could get used to that.”

“I think you will also need a phone, I’ll ask to my- uh, Tony, to get one for you.” Y/N says.

Loki raised a brow, confused again “A phone? What in the nine realms is a phone?”

Y/N showed him her phone, and briefly explained what it was. “I’ll teach you later how to use it when I get you one.”

He nodded after she was done, looking at her “I see. So, I’ll be getting one of these as well then?”

She nods “I’ll go meet the team, feel free here...” she smiles “and if you need me, you just have to say it to JARVIS, the AI, and he’ll let me know.”

“Alright. I’ll call if I need you” He nodded his acknowledgment to what she said

“I already ordered the pizza, it must be here in an hour or so.” She says.

“Alright. Have fun with the others in the meantime”

“You too. I mean, have fun here.” Y/N smiles before she left him.

After more or less of an hour, Y/N got back to her floor and went to his room. She found him on his new bed, with a book in hand. When he heard the door open, he glanced up from the book and at her “You’re back”

She entered his new bedroom with a lot of bags in her hands “I am. And here are your new everything.”

Loki marked where he was currently at in the book and set it to the side as he sat up. He looked at all the bags that she had come in with, his interest peaked at how much there was “All that just for clothes?”

She chuckles softly. Probably a prince of Asgard had never gone shopping in his life “Clothes, shoes, undergarments, hygiene products...everything is here.”

He was a little surprise at the sheer amount of stuff she had brought in. He watched as she set the bags down “I didn’t realize I needed so much stuff.”

“And this.” She handles him a cellphone.

Loki took the phone from her. He studied it, looking at it up and down. He’d never held one of these before “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

“I’ll teach you.” She sat by his side on the bed and turned the phone on. There was a cat picture on it.

“Interesting choice of a lock screen picture” Loki raised a brow as he looked at the lock screen.

“You can change it.”

Loki chuckled a bit. He looked back down at the phone, his finger tapping around on the screen, trying to figure out how to change the lock screen “Alright. How do I do that?”

Y/N then explained and teached him how to use a cellphone, how to make calls and how to text and use emojis. Her contact was already saved as “Y/N S.” Loki listened very carefully to the explanation of how to use the phone. His fingers tapping and moving around the screen as he followed along, exploring the apps and what they did.

“Okay. Any doubts?”

He hummed, thinking for a moment before speaking “No. I think I’ve got the basics of this down now...But what about that pizza you said you ordered?”

“It must be arriving.” She says.

Loki nodded when she said it would be here soon. He set the phone down, his mind going back to all the clothes she had brought in earlier “Oh and…where am I suppose to put all of that?”

“In your...closet?” Y/N was holding a chuckle, like it was so obvious.

Loki mentally face palmed himself. That much should have been obvious. He had completely forgotten about the dresser that was in the room. He chuckled softly “Right. Of course.”

“You should try them. See if everything fits.”

He paused a moment as considered it. It would probably be a good idea to find out now if these clothes were too big or not after all “Fine. I guess I’ll try some of it on”

“I’ll call you when the pizza’s here.” She says before leaving him alone to try the clothes.

After almost 15 minutes, Y/N called him from the kitchen “Loki!! Pizza’s here!”

Loki was still looking around the mirror at himself when he heard her call his name and call that the pizza had arrived. He had found that they were pretty good fits so far. “Coming!”

“Ready to try the best thing you’ll ever taste?” She says as she offers him a slice.

Loki took the slice, still smiling as he held the pizza in his hand. He looked at it for a moment before bringing it up to his mouth. He took a bite and let the flavors and texture swirl in his mouth for a moment as he chewed. Once he had swallow that bite, his mind started processing the taste. It was actually quite good. Not at all what he was expecting. He looked to her, a smile back on his face “Well, I suppose this pizza actually is quite good”

“Oh, come on. You can say it’s your favorite food from now on.” She smiles back at him.

As they both continued to eat the pizza, Loki started thinking. He was enjoying this, the pizza and company both. The casualness of it all. It was nice. He took another bite before breaking the silence “Is this what it’s like for you all the time? Being able to eat pizza and chat and laugh like this?”

“Mostly, yeah.” She nods.

Loki hummed as he took another bite out the pizza. He swallowed, his mind still working as his gaze fell on her. He was just so curious about it all, this regular normal life. “This casualness. This normal day to day life…it’s so different to what we do and deal with all the time”

“What was it like on Asgard?”

Loki thought for a moment, trying to think how exactly to describe life in Asgard to a Midgardian “Not casual like this. There were no pizza for one. Life was much more formal. Always some kind of event happening or some sort of thing that we had to attend to”

“Well, if you live with Tony, you always have some party invitation. He’s quite...popular around here.” Y/N chuckles.

He chuckled at that “I suppose that’s unavoidable when you live with Stark”

After a few more minutes of silence, Y/N spoke. “You know, for what they said, I was imagining your different.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at that “Different how?”

“More arrogant and difficult to deal. But you’re actually quite...nice.”

Loki hummed in response. “Maybe I’m just being nice out of politeness? Who’s to say I’m not actually like my past reputation?”

“Hmm...maybe.”

“You’ve known me barely a day and have already made such definitive statements on my personality hm?” He says with a small smirk on his lips.

Y/N chuckles “I’m good at seeing through people...I’m gonna sleep, I have to wake up early. Try not to destroy my floor. Good night...”

He nodded slightly in response to her good night. He watched her as she walked away and then returned to his slice of pizza. Chewing it, his thoughts again going down the rabbit hole of everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

Loki really started to grow quite close to Y/N over the months that passed as he was living with her. He quickly realized that he had grown quite affectionate for her, feelings of care and protective coming over him every time he saw her. Y/N had offered to him to take off the bracelet, but he still refused all the time. In this time, never left her floor and had little encounters with the others, mostly Thor and Tony. And he hated Tony.

“Pizza’s here!!” Y/N called from her kitchen.

Loki's ears perked up at the call. He had been in the living room, watching a movie, but as soon as she called out to him, he snapped himself out of it and got up. Making his way into the kitchen "That was fast.”

“Right?” She chuckles. He moved up to the counter, his gaze drifting over to her a moment before he picked up a slice and Y/N did the same. “You know...I just realized you never told me when it’s your birthday.”

“You never told me your last name either.” He says with a smirk as he eats the pizza.

“Touché.”

"So it's a tie" Loki chuckled, finding her response to be quite amusing.

Y/N nods at him. Her phone buzzed and she already knew what it was. It was friday night, which means movie night for the team. Loki never wanted to go and that means she didn’t go either, because she didn’t want to leave him alone. Still, they always texted her to invite. As Y/N checked her phone, Loki's ears perked up at the sound of it, curious as to what the message was. "Everything alright over there?"

“Yeah...Nat’s asking if were going to watch the movie with them...”

Loki found the others to be tiring, and the thought of sitting through a whole movie with them was almost unbearable "And are you going?"

“Are you?” She looks at him.

"No. I don't want to go to movie night"

“So neither am I.” Y/N texted Nat before speaking again “You can’t avoid the team forever.”

He leaned back against the counter, still holding a half eaten slice of pizza in his hands as he looked to her "I know… it's just that Stark…”

“You really don’t like him, huh?” She chuckles.

If Loki was being honest, Stark was possibly the single person he disliked the most "That man…I can hardly stand him. Everything about him annoys me. I don’t understand how you deal with him every day.”

“My relationship with him is different...” Loki barely opened his mouth to say something, and she already cut him “and no, he’s not into me and no, I won’t explain.”

Loki couldn't help but roll his eyes "I know you told me you won't explain. But it's strange. Especially with how annoying he is in general.”

“Believe me, I know how annoying he can get sometimes.” She smiles a little.

Loki's almost constant frown was replaced by a soft smile when she smiled. She was the only thing that could almost always get him to smile "Then how on earth do you handle him?"

“Let’s just say I know him for a looong time.”

He nodded slightly at her answer "That's fair. You still have my respect for being able to tolerate him for so long"

Y/N looks at Loki for a few seconds... “You really hate him...”

Loki's face and voice expressed how annoyed he was by the mention of Stark. "I absolutely HATE that man. He truly is the most self-centered, cocky and arrogant person I've ever met. I bet his whole family is like that.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?” Y/N says. This would certenly complicate things between them.

To him he was not exaggerating at all, and this was shown on his face "No. I am 100% serious. That man is insufferable, annoying, and cocky."

“I mean what you said about his family.”

Loki hummed, his expression still one of annoyance and dislike towards Stark "His whole family is bound to be like that. Look at Stark, his arrogance and cockiness, it must run in the family.” There was a pause for a moment, but he started speaking again, his tone going from mockingly confident to curious "Speaking of families… what's yours like? You haven’t told me about them.”

“I have an older brother...” She speaks.

Loki hummed, his head tilting slightly as his eyes stayed on her. He took another bite of the pizza slice he was holding "An older brother? What’s he like?"

Y/N nods “Yeah...he always took care of me, especially after our parents die. I know he would do anything for me. He’s smart, caring…he always put me first, even if sometimes he’s a little overprotective.”

A small part of Loki got a pang in his chest when she mentioned her parents being dead “Your brother sounds like a good guy. I’m sure I’d like him more than Stark.” Y/N just looks at him, not knowing what to say. He noticed how she seemed to pause after that last comment "You haven't told me his name, your brother's that is"

She took a deep breath before answering “It’s...Anthony.”

Loki couldn't help but chuckle softly at the coincidence "Are you joking? Your brother's name is Anthony?" Y/N just nodded. Loki had to hold back laughing as he processed the knowledge. The irony was almost too much to bear, but he was able to hold it in. His smirk growing as his voice came out, mocking and cheeky “How strange. That’s the name of our beloved friend Ironman...” She nodded again.

He smirked again, thoroughly amused by this information "Your brother shares a name with that egotistical, arrogant, loudmouth… oh that is just…ironic, and hysterical.” Y/N just looked at him. He sure has realized...right?

Loki chuckled, enjoying the irony and coincidence of her brother "Your brother seems like a much more decent fellow than Stark...”

Y/N was still silent, just looking at him as she realizes he didn’t get it “Huh...Loki?”

Looking at her, his gaze softened slightly “Yes?”

“You didn’t get it, do you?” She says carefully.

Loki looked at her for a moment, noticing the look on her face. He had been rather distracted that he had completely missed something that was rather obvious. He thought for a moment before his eyes widened and he suddenly realized “You’re kidding, right? Right?” His expression was one of absolute disbelief as it sank in “No. No, you’re joking. You have to be joking right now. Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not...”

There was a pause where Loki felt almost as though the room was spinning. He was trying to process this information, that his...friend, was sister of the man he hated the most, his mind in complete disbelief. He just stared at her, a dumbfounded look on his face. Eventually he managed to get words out “You mean to tell me, that your brother…the brother you were just talking about…is Tony Stark?” Loki wasn’t sure at this point whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or pull his hair out and scream “Oh this is…this is just brilliant…no…brilliant actually doesn’t even begin to describe this…this is…this is unbelievable”

Y/N was confused. Sure, Loki hated her brother, but...why was he overreacting that way? “I think I lost something here...what’s the problem? Besides you not liking him?”

Loki grumbled in irritation, trying to formulate his thoughts. He pushed back from the counter, turning to face her fully “The problem? Well, how about the fact that the man I hate is your brother. That definitely complicates the fact that I consider you my closest and favorite Midgardian”

“So being his sister make us not friends anymore? Is that it?”

He crossed his arms and let out an annoyed huff “That’s not the point. I’m not saying we’re not friends anymore…it just complicates things. It changes things… because you have a relation to him. I have very mixed feelings about this new information.”

“You know what, I’ll leave you to think about it then since it’s so awful.” Y/N turned her back to him, walking to the elevator.

He watched her walk towards the elevator, a pang in his chest as she got in and the doors closed. He was left alone in the kitchen now, still in disbelief at everything that just happened. Y/N decided to spend the night with the team, watching the movie Clint chose. They were happy that finally she was back with them. But of course, she didn’t tell anyone what happened.

While she was with the team, Loki stayed in her apartment. He just sat on the couch, still in disbelief and thought. He was tempted to ask JARVIS where she was, but he didn’t want to seem needy. Ater the movie ended, she left them saying she was a little tired and went back to her floor. Loki was still sat on the couch when she came back. He heard the elevator ding and his head shot up. He sat up a little straighter as the door to the elevator opened. For a second, he just looked at her, unsure what to do or say.

Y/N didn’t say anything. In fact, she didn’t even look at him as she walks past him on the couch and went straight to her room. Loki watched silently as she walked past, his stomach twisting itself into knots. He had never wanted to speak more than he did right now, but for once he was speechless. Watching her walk to her room, he waited for a second before deciding to follow her.

He stood up, walking swiftly towards her room. He almost hesitated when he reached her doorway, he stood there for a moment as his mind went through what he wanted to say before he spoke in a soft and somewhat quiet voice “Y/N…”

“What?” She replied without even looking at him.

Loki entered the room slowly, a part of him feeling almost nervous “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Y/N kept her back to him as she was taking her necklace off “About what? That we can’t be friends anymore? That you can’t stand me because of my brother?’

His heart practically shattered upon hearing her speak like that. He hated how she thought that. He shook his head softly, his voice quiet and sincere “That’s not it. I never stopped being your friend, and I never will. And it doesn’t matter to me that Stark’s your brother, despite me despising him.”

This made her finally turn to look at him. Seeing her gaze shift to meet his made his heart twist a little again. He took a few steps forward, now fully in front of her. He let out a shaky breath before he continued to speak “You’re still my friend. You always will be. Nothing will change that.” He looked down slightly, a pang of guilt hitting him “I…I didn’t mean it earlies. Not really. I was just…I was just in shock when I realized you were Stark’s sister. That’s all”

He dared to look back up at her, his heart going as soft as his gaze. He took a step forward and was now standing right in front of her, his voice quiet and soft as he continued to speak “You being his sister doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend. My favorite and closest friend.”

Y/N sighs, her voice now gentler “I guess I should have expected that kind of reaction from you...”

A small pang of guilt hit him when he heard her say that “I…” he paused for a moment, biting his lip as he looked at her “I’m sorry. For how I reacted. I should’ve handled it better…but I was just a little…shocked”

“A little?” She chuckles.

Loki chuckled too, a slight smile coming to his face now. He held her hand delicately, his thumb gently stroking the top of her hand as they spoke “Maybe more than a little.”

They were looking at each other, holding hands, when JARVIS started to play a soft music and that made Y/N a little confused “JARVIS, stop.” But it didn’t.

Loki’s head snaps to look at the ceiling when the music started. A small smirk came upon his face as he looked up for a moment “JARVIS is quite the wingman”

Y/N shakes her head as the music kept playing.

I had a thought, dear

However scary

About that night

The bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging?

What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me

From the earth?

Loki couldn’t help feeling amused by JARVIS playing that particular song. He chuckled softly and looked at her, a smirk on his face “I wonder if JARVIS’S trying to hint at something…”

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask you, neither should you

Y/N rolls her eyes “I don’t think he’s trying to make a hint exactly.”

Loki chuckles again, still holding her hand, his slender and smooth fingers rubbing slow and gentle circles over the back of it “Then what would you call it?”

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

“I call it being direct.” Y/N chuckles softly.

He chuckled under his breath again and smirked, his voice almost having a teasing tone to it as he spoke “I know one way to shut him up...” Before she can say another word, Loki does exactly what the music had suggested. In one quick movement he brought his free hand up to cup the side of her face. Within a blink, he had closed the small distance between them and connected his lips with hers.

Y/N closed her eyes, kissing him back. He moves his lips slowly, softly over hers, feeling pure bliss. His fingers against her cheek were gentle while his other hand still held hers delicately. Y/N’s hand cupped his face as they kissed, making Loki smile faintly against her lips while he felt her hands against his cheeks. He parted his lips very gently, his tongue slowly and delicately caressing hers. He moved his hand from her face, up to her hair and her hands moved to the back of his neck.

Loki let out a faint gasp, the action sent shivers down his spine. As he continued to kiss her, his tongue intertwined with hers and all his thoughts went out the window. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was her. They kept kissing in a slow pace. Slow, soft, and gentle were exactly what Loki wanted. He was being gentle with her as always, yet there was a sense of passion and hunger in his kiss as well. He tilted his head and continued to kiss her for another moment, completely in bliss. After a moment he slowly pulled back, his breath coming out in a soft and shallow pant against her lips.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes half-lidded and a light, almost drunken-like look in them. He was silent, his mind was still hazy from the kiss they just shared, leaving him speechless.

Y/N smiles a little before kissing him again. A small moan escaped Loki's lips and he kissed her back slowly. He moved one hand and placed it on her waist, pulling her closer against him and bringing her body flush against his. Loki smiled faintly against her lips as he felt her hands start to move down his shirt. His muscles tensed faintly underneath his shirt, the feeling of her hands sending a pleasant sensation through his body. Y/N slowly pulls up his shirt until she took it off his body. He stopped kissing her for a moment to allow her to pull the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body bare. His heart was thumping fast in his chest as he felt his body exposed, her hands against his bare skin. He took a second to adjust before he quickly returned to kissing her again. He tilted his head and re-connected their lips in a gentle kiss, his hands going to the hem of her shirt, tugging on it a little. Just like him, she broke the kiss shortly to help him to get rid of it.

He quickly pulled off her shirt as well, discarding it somewhere on the floor before returning his lips back to hers. He let out a small, quiet moan against her mouth as he felt their chests just barely touch.

Y/N’s hand went down his chest until it stopped at his belt, slowly undoing it. A soft, shaky breath escaped his mouth as his hips subconsciously bucked forwards a little as she started to undo his belt, making her smirks into the kiss. He was practically aching for her to touch him without the obstruction of clothes in the way. She slowly opens his pants, pushing it down, and Loki let out a quiet gasp. He was wearing thin, black boxer briefs, which didn’t leave much up to the imagination.

Loki moved his lips from hers and started kissing slowly down her neck. His hand once again went to her hair, gently pushing it to the side to allow himself more access to her skin. He moved his lips to a sensitive spot on her neck and gently started sucking and biting on it and that made Y/N let out a soft moan.

He smiled faintly against her neck, the sound of her moan was making him feel drunk. Loki continued to gently kiss down her neck until his hands started working on her pants too and slowly push them down. He pulled her even closer to him, his hands roaming up and down her body, touching her anywhere he could reach.

Their joined their lips again, the kiss was slower now, but hungrier than before. The feeling of their underwear-clad bodies pressed up against one another was already driving him crazy with desire to be even closer to her. One of his hands started to move up her back, unclasping her bra and gently moving the strap of the bra off her shoulder until her upper body was more exposed.

Loki broke the kiss for a moment, panting faint against her lips as he took the sight of her in. He stared, taking in every bit of her exposed skin, his mind practically blank, completely focused on her as he brought his hand up to her breast, gently but firmly cupping it with his hand, his thumb gently caressing it. That made her let out a small gasp, and it only made Loki want to hear more of it. He started to massage her slowly, his touch gentle against her sensitive skin, and his lips returning to her neck, gently kissing it.

Y/N let her hand goes down to his boxers, slowly rubbing his bulge. A quiet moan escaped his mouth as he felt her touch, his boxer briefs now definitely more tight than they were earlier. He let out a deep, shaky breath, trying his hardest to hold back any louder sounds.

She slowly pushed his underwear down. Loki shifted his legs to allow them to be easier to remove, the black piece of fabric soon being pooled with his pants on the floor left him completely on display for her. With his boxer briefs gone, he pressed his body against hers again. With his lower body pushed up against hers, he gasped again as he felt her against his sensitive member now. He began kissing down her neck again, his hands slowly moving to her hips and started to push down her panties. He was desperate to feel more of her skin against his, completely wanting all barriers between them to be gone.

Loki slowly pulled down her panties, leaving them both bare against each other. He didn’t hesitate to bring her even closer to him. The press of her bare body against his sent a wave of pleasure down his spine, leaving all coherent thought lost in his mind. All that he could think about in that moment was her. Loki let out a shaky breath as he felt himself rubbing against her wet folds. His thoughts were a mixture of pure lust and want, mixed in with a strange sense of love. He continued to kiss her slowly, his hands gently caressing the bare skin of her back.

Y/N broke the kiss, grabbing his hand and slowly leading them to her bed. She laid down first. Loki followed her and hovered above her for a moment, taking a slow, shaky breath before speaking again “You’re so beautiful…so perfect…”

“So are you...” She says almost in a whisper.

He slowly closed the small distance between them until their bodies were pressed together again, gently caressing her side and moved his head down and started kissing her neck again. His lips went further down until he gently started kissing her collarbone while his hand slowly started to travel further down her body. Another moan escaped her lips while she helped him fit better between her legs.

Loki started to kiss down her chest, moving his lips to her breast and then to her nipple and gently started sucking on it while his hand continued to roam down her body, trying to touch her as much as possible. Y/N moaned again. After a moment, his mouth started to move over to her other breast and started giving it the same treatment. The sounds she made went straight to his ear and almost set him on fire, the hunger for her growing with every sound escaping her mouth.

His lips were on a mission to continue kissing every single part of her skin, his tongue sometimes darting out to taste her. While his mouth started moving down her chest and towards her stomach, his fingers gently started to caress her inner thighs. His mouth continued to move down her stomach until he was in between her legs. There, he slowly started to kiss her just above her clit, his hands gripping her thighs very gently to keep her legs apart. Loki slowly started to move his tongue across her wet folds and her clit, trying to be careful and not to overstimulate her. The taste of her sent a shiver down his spine and he let out a shaky breath, having to keep himself from pressing his own hips against the sheets to get some kind of release. Each time he moved his tongue on her, she moaned.

The sound of her moan was heavenly to Loki. His tongue continued licking her and his hands stayed gripping her thighs to keep her legs open. His own hips were pushing against the bed as his member was throbbing and begging for more, desperate for some friction. He let out a soft, almost drunken sounding moan, his voice vibrating against her core.

Y/N’s moans started to get a little louder, especially when he slowly pushed one slender finger into her. Loki watched as she closed her eyes and could feel her tightening around his finger. He carefully pushed another slender and long finger into her, wanting to give her as much pleasure as he could.

He knew she was getting close by her moans and the way she was responding to his every movement. He felt her tighten around his fingers and a few moments later, she came. She pulled him back to her, kissing him again.

Loki smiled faintly against her lips, returning her kiss immediately. His body was on top of hers, his hips in between her legs, pressing up against her but being careful to not actually push into her yet. As he continued to kiss her, he slowly started to move his hips against hers until he could feel his cock rubbing up against her, the feeling immediately making him gasp against her mouth. He broke the kiss for a moment to speak “Y/N...” His voice was a little shaky, the feeling of being that close to her yet not being inside her was almost driving him mad with need.

“Yes...please...” Her voice was full of lust and desire, and she wanted nothing more than him inside of her.

The sound of her asking him to continue made him feel almost dizzy with desire for her. He slowly lifted one of her legs a little more up and used his free hand to line the tip of his member up with her before slowly, and carefully pushing inside, making her moan.

Hearing her moan as he pushed inside her slowly made him gasp, his mouth next to her ear. She nods at him for him to move. He slowly started to move his hips, being careful to be gentle and not go too fast or hard. His own breath was coming out a little in soft pants next to her ear, but he tried his best to keep them as controlled as possible to not be too loud and he kissed her again.

The kiss was a lot sloppier than before, both of them breathing heavily against each other’s mouths as he kept moving. He moved his tongue into her mouth and tangled it with hers, desperate for as much physical contact possible. He picked up the pace slightly, the feeling of being inside her making his thoughts foggy. Y/N moans into the kiss while he kept moving in and out of her.

The sound of her moans gave him all the motivation he needed to keep moving. His hips started to move a little faster, but still trying his best to be careful and not to move too forcefully or hard. He broke the kiss and instead started to slowly kiss and suck on her neck. She wrapped both her legs around his waist. He groaned quietly against her skin as he felt her legs wrap around his waist, practically forcing him to go a bit deeper. He let his head rest against her shoulder as he continued to move, the pleasure growing more intense by the moment.

The new angle made Loki hit just the right spot. When he hit the right spot, he heard her gasp and felt her getting tighter around him, so he repeated the same movement again, the feeling making him bite down on the skin of her shoulder to try and muffle the moan from escaping him.

He slowly picked up the pace again, now moving a bit faster. At this new rhythm and position, a few more thrusts of his hips and Y/N orgasmed again. He let out a shaky breath as he felt her climax around him again, her legs tightening around him and his name leaving her mouth like heaven. The feeling was sending him over the edge, it was too much, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Without stopping he let himself go, a deep, quiet moan escaping his mouth as he came inside of her.

His hips continued to move but much slower, riding out the last bits of pleasure. He slowly came down from his high, his body coming to a slow still as he tried to catch his breath. He slowly picked his head up from her shoulder to look at her. Her face was a little flushed from the pleasure and he smiled faintly at the sight. After a moment of catching his breath, he gently leaned down and kissed her forehead, a gesture that almost felt a little tender.

Loki laid down next to her, gently pulling out of her and letting one of her legs still rest across his lower stomach as he laid down. He let his body rest a moment, still breathing a little heavily, before turning his head to look at her and spoke “That was...heavenly...”

Y/N nods, agreeing but still weak from everything. She laid her head on his chest and Loki gently draped his arm across her back, pulling her closer to him so their bodies were even closer together. They both laid there quietly for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of the other so close and listening to each other breathes.

He continued to hold her close, now gently caressing her back while he looked down at her. He was quiet for a moment, before he spoke “I didn’t plan on this happening when I came to your room, you know.”

She chuckles a little “I guess we have to thank JARVIS for this.”

“Indeed.” He chuckled faintly and continued to gently caress her back, letting his hand slide up and down her bare skin.

“Are we okay? About the whole thing of me being Tony’s sister?” She had to ask it.

Loki lifted his head up a little bit to look at her, a soft smile on his face “Yes, we are good. You being Tony’s sister isn’t going to change anything. I can promise you that. If Tony has a problem with what we do in the bedroom, he can always take that up with me.”

“Oh, so we’re doing more of this?” She smiled.

He raised an eyebrow at her question, that faint smile still on his face ‘Of course we’ll do more. You think I’m going to let you get away from me now, when I finally have you in my arms?”

Y/N chuckles a little “I guess I should tell you that unlike my brother, I don’t fool around.”

Loki lifts his other hand to gently brush her hair away from her face, his fingers tracing down her cheek. He still smiled at her faintly as he spoke “Don’t worry, I have no plans of just fooling around with you. That’s not my style either.” He held her close and gently resumed caressing her back. He was enjoying the feeling of her bare skin against his and how she was laying in his arms.

“What’s on your mind?”

He didn’t answer at first, his hand still gently stroking her back. After a moment of silence he spoke, his voice a little quieter than before “Your brother is not going to be happy if he finds out that we’re together, you know…”

“He won’t...”

Loki stayed silent again for a moment, before he spoke in a quiet, slightly mischievous tone “Just so you’re aware, I have absolutely no intention of being quiet and discreet with you.”

“Good.” Y/N smiles “Me nether. I don’t care about anything. I want you.”

He felt that strange and pleasant sensation fill his chest again, hearing her say that. He gently pulled her even closer to him, her body practically flush against his and his hand sliding down from her back to rest on her lower back, nearly above her ass. His fingers gently traced her skin, his other hand still gently caressing her hair “Then you’ll have me.”

#loki smut #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #loki odinson x you #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki marvel #loki imagine #canon divergence #smut #fluff

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trippinsorrows · 3 months

Text

looking through your eyes + three

authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.

also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.

in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 9k

Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.

Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.

It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired.

There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.

When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.

But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase.

And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.

But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.

It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.

It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.

Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.

Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.

Solo Sikoa

All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion.

Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything.

But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.

She's grateful for that.

Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.

It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.

But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all.

She’d just….cease to exist.

And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever.

But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.

“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”

Talk….

Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her.

“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”

Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.

And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?

But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….

It’s not worth it.

Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.

“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”

For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”

She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”

Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done.

At least since the murder of their mother.

Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”

Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth.

The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.

“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”

Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this.

“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.

“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”

This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.

“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.

“Did you fuck him last night?”

It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.

And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.

So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does.

“Y–yes.”

Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”

A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?

“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”

Easier said than done. Much easier said than done.

It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”

She’s not.

She’s far from fine.

————

The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.

It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.

Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.

But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space.

Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.

She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability.

Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.

Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess.

She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”

“Who?”

His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer.

“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”

Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”

Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped.

He’s pissed.

That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.

His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?”

Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”

“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”

Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?

He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother.

And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s.

“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him.

Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her.

Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet.

“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”

Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”

She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”

Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”

His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”

Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”

“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.

“What time do you get off today?”

Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”

“I’ll meet you then.”

He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.”

And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.

Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.

Or at all.

“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”

On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”

Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”

His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”

Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”

Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”

Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”

“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”

Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial.

Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”

“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”

“I’ve got—”

“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”

Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”

Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience.

There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary.

And the day isn’t even halfway over.

He needs an outlet.

Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message.

Roman: Come over tonight.

As expected, her reply comes almost right away.

Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.

Samantha: See you then.

————

Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.

Usually both.

But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline.

Roman Reigns.

Who also happens to be her husband.

Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people.

The reality definitely hasn’t set in.

Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.

Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.

“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”

“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”

“No.”

She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.

And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.

Solana knows her father. She knows him very well.

Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen.

That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.

If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves.

The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.

She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.

And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.

She can’t give him that opportunity.

Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”

“But—”

“Move.”

Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in.

Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.

Her stomach drops.

Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”

Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.

“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”

It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons.

And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.

That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors.

“I–I—”

“Is something wrong?”

Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger.

“Where’s the room?”

Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.

But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.

And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest.

So why?

But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance.

And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.

Until he enters said room.

Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.

For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.

It….it hits too close to him.

Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.

Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts.

There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?

Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.

Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning.

Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located.

That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.

“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”

“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”

“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”

To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper.

And that’s exactly what happens.

In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”

Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.

He’ll just get her another one.

Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.

And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.

—--------

The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.

17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse.

But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.

It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”

Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.

If only he cared about her objection.

“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.

Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.

His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight.

It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.

“Nia.”

“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”

It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”

“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”

It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.

This isn’t one of those times though.

He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.”

It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go.

She has to learn to stand up for herself.

She needs to learn how to fight back.

Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”

Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”

Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”

“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.

Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”

“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”

While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”

“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”

Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”

“I know being too rough with her won’t.”

A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome.

Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.”

Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.

“Do I have a choice?”

Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”

Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face.

Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”

He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.

Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”

She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”

Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.

So, he agrees, “fine.”

“Ayo, uce!”

Jesus Christ.

Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.

The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.

“Let us catch that ride with you.”

Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”

Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”

Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.

“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.

But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.

The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing.

When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.”

Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.

“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”

“What limit?”

Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"

“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”

Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”

“No.”

Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”

Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”

Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”

“Hell naw!”

The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”

Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.

“I’ll make it quick.”

Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable.

As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.

Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store.

It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.

He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is.

It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”

She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”

Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked.

It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary.

“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”

“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”

“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.

Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Roman when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.

So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.

And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.

It’s not.

The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.

Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.

And she probably isn’t.

————

Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more.

He’s ignored them everytime.

Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.

Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.

Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.

The same reason he invited her over tonight.

Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.

The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight.

Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.

She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.

In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.

Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.

Way too needy.

But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.

Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.

It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.

“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”

If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…”

She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.

“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.

For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Yeah….just as he expected.

Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”

“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”

Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”

“No…..”

He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”

“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone.

It’s a permanent scar on the soul.

“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”

There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.

Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”

His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”

“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.

He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.

This may be more complicated than he realized.

And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?” His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”

Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all.

Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”

She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him.

“What did I sa—”

“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest.

Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.

So much for a fucking distraction.

—-----

Roman finds her out back on the patio.

He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone.

And she is.

She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day.

He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.

The same way they used to haunt him.

His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about.

Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.

So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.

#roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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nishloves · 4 months

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blue eyes; gojo satoru

synopsis : you were someone who always admired his beautiful crystal eyes, but now that they don't shine as much as before, now that they don't hurt and have been discarded, satoru wonders if his eyes are still your favorite.

potential manga spoilers // a tad bit insecure gojo // wc: 700 // fluff // unedited.

as he carded his fingers through the stray strands of your hair, he couldn't help but twirl the fibre around his fingers, his heart melting as he peered at you— at you playing with your mobile.

it has been weeks since the events, weeks since satoru fell into your arms, your relatively small hands almost cradling him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, hell, he would never admit it but the strongest— no, satoru gojo felt safe in your arms, safer than anytime in his nearly thirty year old life.

it has been weeks since he almost kidnapped you from your duties and ran away to malaysia for a month long vacation, a special urn in his luggage with a different—bluer set of goggles adorning him.

as he smiled at you texting to others about how you both have been well these past few days, his gaze couldn't help but admire you; your soft smile, the curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes fluttered at an interval of approximately four seconds and the way your eyes— eyes...

eyes.

he pursed his lips almost involuntarily, his hand which was tracing circles over the small of your back stopping momentarily, his thoughts speeding a hundred miles per second. you loved his eyes, never let him feel as if they were a curse, he remembered the way you would gaze at those crystalline blue miracles which refracted faintest of light— a shimmer which isn't present now, a shine whine is duller now, a look of youth— a twinkle that is lost— would you look at his eyes the same? now that they aren't as special as before? would you—

"satoru?"

honey. like mellowed honey, he decided that, that was the best representation of the way his name rolled off your tongue.

"yes darling?" he asked, tilting his head to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him— more specifically at his eyes, observing you syncing your own blinks with his.

"baby?" he asked again.

you could only smile sheepishly as you buried your face in his chest, your cheeks burning pink.

"sorry, it's just that— you're so pretty, your eyes are so beautiful, i'd stare at them for ages if I could."

he almost gasped, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped, looking down at you; his brows furrowed and an almost— almost pleading look in his eyes.

"still?" he asked.

"what do you mean still?"

"you love my eyes that bad?"

you giggled, as if it was the funniest question your fiancée had ever sked you.

"obviously! they are your eyes! my favorite shade of blue, with perfect lashes— on my favorite person, I'd love them for eternity."

he smiled, so bright that his eyes twinkled— not in the way they used to but somehow prettier.

he had a thousand words to say— no, maybe a million, a billion or even more than that. his thumb traced your cheekbone as he looked at your fondly, his lips morphed into a cheeky smile, his vessels almost tugging at his heart as he took in all of you.

but despite the infinite number of words he wanted to say—

"i know. i'm gorgeous." was all he said.

you laughed, looking back at your phone as you leaned your head against his chest, turning to look at your mobile again as satoru resumed his ministerings.

'you know,' he realised as he looked at your giddy smile.

'she always knows,' he realised as he kissed the top of your head.

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tlou-reid · 3 months

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The Summertime & Butterflies ✿ Spencer Reid

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: a local florist helps spencer make a peony arrangement for a friend.

♡ WARNINGS: florist!reader, cheesy flower shop names, not edited, that's it really

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

“And these ones,” You gestured to the white chrysanthemum arrangement you made that morning, “represent loyalty, which is also necessary when proposing.” You practically floated through the little corner store filled with flowers, very obviously fitting in. This was your element, basically your home. You spent more time here, at ‘Cherry Bloom Barn’, than anywhere else in the world. Coincidentally, you were also the happiest here. Not many people could say that about their job, you were extremely fortunate in this way.

“Okay, I think I’ll take those,” the woman you were currently touring around gestured to an arrangement you had shown her earlier, “and those,” she pointed at the chrysanthemum arrangement, “and maybe we could do something with those sunflowers? Those are her favorite.” You hummed in agreement, already brainstorming the different ways you could incorporate them.

You had been working with Eloise for a few hours now, ensuring she had everything she needed to propose to her girlfriend. She had described her vision in detail, and you were sure you could make it a reality. It would take some time, and definitely a lot of work, but there was nothing more motivating than helping someone who was very clearly in love.

The only thing you enjoyed more than gardening and flower arranging, was helping people in love. Being able to bring someone’s vision for their partner to life, and knowing you will, in a bit of a roundabout way, be a permanent mark in their love story, was more fulfilling than any other career you could imagine.

You brought Eloise back to the small desk you kept in the corner of your store. There were vines sprawling across it, but it felt homey nonetheless. You wrote down your notes, finalized the arrangements and delivery, and had Eloise sign the agreement. You knew you were discounting your prices a tad when you handed her the receipt, but no one had to know that.

“See you in a few days!” You smiled at her, and she waved on her way out. With a sigh, you began to neaten up your space. The time you’ve dubbed the ‘in-between’ was the best part of your day. No one to greet, no sales pitch to make, just you and your flowers. What more could a girl want?

Your ‘in-between’ lasted almost an hour and a half, before the bell in front of your door chimed, signaling a new arrival. You were in the back, turning on the plant-safe light you used when there was a lack of sunlight coming in through your large shop windows. With the summer setting, it was a need. “Be right there!” You hollered from your hidden nook, fighting with the old light switch. It took a few seconds, but after a bit of flickering, the lights came on.

As quickly as you could without breaking any pots, you shuffled your way out to the front of the shop. You straightened your apron and wiped your sweaty hands along your thighs. Once you looked up, you were met with the most beautiful eyes, on the most beautiful man, you’d ever seen. “Welcome!” You said, cheerfully. You chose to ignore the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He gave a tight-lipped smile, holding on to the satchel that was draped across his broad chest. “Looking for anything in particular?” You questioned, offering him a wide smile. “Yes, actually,” he said, suddenly very comfortable, “I need peonies.” He declared. It wasn’t very often a man came in and knew what flowers to request. You were stunned for a minute, before ushering him over the the ‘Peony Point’. There was a wooden sign hung above the corner, with little paintings of peonies decorating it.

This section of the store was covered in different colors and arrangements of its namesake flower. You were especially proud of the red ones, knowing how prestigious the meaning of them can be. You let him look around for a second, noticing how drawn he was to the yellow ones. After a few seconds, you approached him again, “The yellow ones represent,” you started, but were quickly cut off. “Joy and good fortune. I think these will be perfect.”

Your mouth ran dry at the way he cut you off. You weren’t sure if it was some kind of intimidation tactic, maybe he was looking for the cheapest flowers, or if it was excitement from some life event he was about to celebrate.

“Awesome,” You forced out, a bit more timid than you usually would be with your customers. “Are you looking for an arrangement with other flowers, a plain bouquet, or some kind of planter?” The man took a look around as if he was weighing his options. “Could you do an arrangement? I need it by tomorrow, but I am willing to pay extra.” You glanced around, brain already conjuring up flowers that would match in color or size.

You nodded, “I think I could make that happen, depending on the size.” He turned back to you, with a much brighter smile than the one he’d given you earlier, “Thank you. I would prefer things with meaning, like prosperity, long-lasting love, and purity, if you could.” You once again nodded, “I think I can do that.” You assured, waving him over to your desk. You chuckled at the way he perched himself up on the stool you had for customers. It definitely was not made for people of his height.

“A medium size will do, with a white vase?” He questioned. “Let me double-check my inventory, give me one second.” He nodded in response, smiling at the way you rushed away. He could tell this environment made you happy, even front the brief amount of time he’d spent here. Your customer service skills were excellent, and your work even better. You were clearly made for this.

“I have two different medium white vases,” You emerged from an overgrown closet, holding two vases. “This one,” you raised your left hand, “Has a handle and is significantly more round, but this one,” you lowered your left hand and raised your right, “is my favorite! It has this more asymmetrical design and sharper edges.” The man smiled, recognizing that you were describing them even though he could clearly see them.

“If you say it’s your favorite, I think I have to go with that one.” You couldn’t tell if his tone was more flirtatious, or if he was just giving your enthusiasm a subtle compliment. Regardless, you could feel those butterflies again. “Awesome,” You sighed a bit nervously. “Let me get this all written up.”

You learned his name was Spencer when you swiped his card. You got another good look at his hazel eyes as you went over costs. He offered an express fee and handed it to you anyway when you declined. In return, you left your personal phone number on his receipt, just in case he wanted to get in contact about his order in a faster manner. He smiled, his face turning a bit red.

By the time you were done with Spencer, it was time to close shop. You would’ve stayed later to work on it, but you knew Casper, your three-legged white cat, would throw a fit if you were late for dinner.

You got to work earlier than normal the next day, knowing you had to get Spencer’s order done. You made sure Casper had everything she needed, before hustling out the door. Your outfit was made of pastels, allowing you to almost blend into the flowers covering your shelves. You were deeply immersed in putting together Spencer’s arrangement by the time your phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to open.

You were content with the progress you’d made, taking a step back and marveling at the start of your project. You reached for your phone to turn off your alarm, and took a moment to check your notifications. A message from an unsaved number caught your interest:

Hello, It’s Spencer. I wanted to make sure it was okay if I picked up the arrangement during my lunch break. I would like to deliver them to her after work if that is possible. Thank you for your hard work and for making time for me.

You smiled at the formal tone of his text, as it was perfectly him. However, that smile quickly fell when you realized he was delivering the flowers to a female. Obviously. Why else would a man know what kind of flowers he wanted? Why else would he worry about the meaning of them? He was in love.

And you flirted with him. You flirted with him and gave him your personal number, and he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend he is in love with.

The only thing you can think to do to hide your embarrassment is to start opening the store. You did some minimal cleanup, knowing you were going to return to your project until a customer came in. You laid out your books, which showcased your extra options that may not be on display in your store. Then, you propped open your door and flipped the open sign on.

You were determined to make this the best arrangement you’d ever made. Spencer was a man who was doing his best to impress his lady. He knew her favorite flowers, the meaning behind them, and the color of the vase he wanted to match. This was a man who cared about his girlfriend, and you were going to make sure the arrangement he took home was perfect. No minuscule attraction to him was going to get in the way of that.

You breezed through the arrangement, due to this newfound inspiration. It took maybe another hour or two before you were completely done, moved the arrangement into the vase, and were gathering all the essentials to send Spencer home with; care instructions, plant food, and even a few different cards, just in case he wanted to leave a note.

You texted Spencer back, sending a picture of your arrangement with a caption: It’s all done! You are free to pick up whenever! I hope you love it!. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

You busied yourself with taking care of your plants and then working on Eloise’s order. You drew up some ideas for different bouquets and vases of flowers, as well as cut some stems to use to show her the different mixes and matches you could make with the flowers she’d picked. You’d almost forgotten about Spencer’s pick-up by the time he arrived.

“Hello,” Spencer greeted, breaking you out of your hyperfocus. “Spencer!” You cheered, rubbing your hands on a towel, before moving to shake his. “Oh,” he hesitated, “I don’t really shake hands.” You nodded in response, before waving him over to the table where his order was.

His face lit up as soon as he laid eyes on it, “It’s beautiful!” He marveled. Those butterflies in your tummy started to flutter again, against your will. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, not used to the attention. “I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.” You promised, moving to bag everything up for him. You were quite proud of the sustainable bags with the logo you had made.

“What?” Spencer questions, face scrunching up. That embarrassment from earlier started to bubble up in your stomach, killing the butterflies. “I was just saying,” You hesitated, “This arrangement is beautiful, you did an excellent job selecting flowers. The receiver is very lucky.” Smooth recovery.

Spencer’s face relaxed, “I hope so. My best friend just had a baby. I couldn’t show up empty-handed, you know?” You smiled at his words. Butterflies revived.

You and Spencer wrapped up. He paid his final dues and you educated him on the use of plant food. “I will let you know how she likes it!” He promises as he disappears out the door, awkwardly shuffling out. You chuckled at him, and a sense of relief washed over your body.

Casper was content next to you on the couch. You were surprised at how calm he was, despite the opened bag of popcorn on your lap. You were completely serene, engrossed in the newest episode of your show. Nothing could disturb you at the moment.

Except for your phone buzzing on the coffee table in front of you, lighting up with ‘Spencer’ written across the top. You smiled, paused the episode, and waited a few seconds before swiping on the call, answering it with a cheerful, “Hello!”

“She loved it! She absolutely loved it!” Spencer cheered, too excited to allow himself to question why he was calling you. It was like a gut reaction from him. After leaving JJ’s hospital room, he immediately reached for his phone, feeling a need to let you know. He was glad you’d given him your personal number.

“I’m glad, Spencer!” You responded. He could hear your smile from over the phone. “She asked me to be the godfather!” Spencer informed. His rambly, awkward self was completely gone, overcome with glee. “How can I thank you?”

You laughed at his question. He didn’t need to thank you, he paid for his order. Overpaid, in fact. “Spencer, there is absolutely no need. I’m glad everything worked out for you, and I’m glad she loved it.” Behind the phone, Spencer shook his head. He was alone in the train station, allowing him to be completely himself. “Let me take you out.” Spencer surprised himself with his proposal.

Of course, he’d been attracted to you the second he walked into the Cherry Bloom Barn, and his attraction was starting to turn into a crush the more time he spent around the shop. He didn’t know you yet, but he was very much interested in getting there.

Still, he was shocked at the words that came out of his mouth. He was on a metaphorical high. Adrenaline was running through him from his amazing time with JJ and the team. His long limbs were almost shaking, and yet he wasn’t nervous. He was comfortable talking to you, and that meant a lot in his world.

“I’d like that,” You stuttered out, “but, it doesn’t have to be a thanks. Take me out because you want to take me out, not because I did a service for you.” You clarified, wanting to make sure you were on the same page. “Of course!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he stepped onto his train. “I do want to take you out. I’d be honored to.”

“It’s a date.” You declared with a smile. “Alright, awesome, I’ll get back to you with a time and stuff.” Spencer couldn't believe his mind was being reduced to words like “awesome” and “stuff”, but between his excitement from being Henry’s godfather and your agreeing to go on a date with him, he was basically a puddle in his train seat.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.” You said, before moving into goodbyes. Casper’s relaxed state quickly dissipated as you squealed, letting the butterflies in your stomach win for a second.

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