#But I can’t fuckin express myself

[somerandomdudelmao]

@tapakah0

This little bunny means the world to me

#I can write a thousand word dialogue about someone else’s feelings #But I can’t fuckin express myself #However #Tapakah I want you to know #that you have absolutely huge influence on me and my art #You are so fucking important to me #too #important to mee too #yes I saw your ask #no I’m not showing it anyone It’s my personal treasure #I have a special folder on my tablet #it called (keep going mate) #It is strait up what it sounds like #my collection of the reasons to keep making art #to keep improving searching creating fighting reading writing #literally…uh #I’m sure you got the idea #you are in this folder too #because sometimes when I feel like I don’t have strength to hold my pen #I go to tumblr and search for you #And everything becomes a bit easier #thank you♡

[mom-friendtm]

period blues

#personal #i am in a terrible headspace right now #i don’t know what to do #i know this is temporary #but i can’t help but feel like it’s permanent because sadness makes you feel like it will be #it’s sadness and anger let’s be real #it’s the kind of feeling where i’m mad at the world #and everyone hates me and knows i’m useless etc etc #getting that feeling where grief manifests as an ache in my hand #an ache and a chill kinda… idk how to describe it #but it will go in a wave across my hand #either way #feeling just so… upset #and i texted my gf about it two hours ago & she didn’t respond #so i’m even more upset but i don’t want to express that to her #it just stings i guess #granted she may not be feeling great herself #and i probably didn’t phrase it in a way where she could say much #especially since i mostly mentioned being pissed off #i don’t know #either way. #feeling sorry for myself #vent post #vent #also holy shit i need to block these fuckin eating disorder tags #pissing me off. and they have for awhile

[leprosycock]

im an adult looking to get into "proship" and "rpf" spaces for the first time.. do you have any advice on where to start? ive always been really nervous about starting out and since ive lurked your blogs for over a year i thought id ask you!

this isn’t great advice because i’m day drinking after getting off work but like. honestly you just have to follow likeminded people and that’s it. that’s how i started years ago when i realized i was super into shotacon, i just followed people on twitter who advertised themselves as very pro freedom of expression and posted cool porn. look through an account’s followers if they represent those free-thinking ideas. try to avoid discourse accounts too, because they’re a massive waste of time and will only make your day worse. posting art is also a good way to gain a likeminded following if you do art! fic as well, i usually put the account that corresponds to the fandom i’m posting in in the notes.

#i don’t call myself proship because it’s like . i just can’t stand most of the community #they’re so fucking obnoxious and self-satisfied and cringe #and actual art. like real art. and literature. doesn’t use that fuckin term bc it doesn’t apply #i’m extremely pro freedom of expression extremely pro first amendment #but i’ll begrudgingly call myself ‘proship’ when i’m in fandom spaces bc there frankly isn’t a more all encompassing term #bunnyaskz

[albedobeheading]

the thing is tho that I do know I would genuinely be doing better if I wasn’t still living at home and I’d be able to take the time to respond appropriately to uncomfortable feelings. but also sometimes people are dicks!!!

#I want to quit this job so bad!!! #but I need to apply and be accepted to the other one first!!! #ohhhh fuck I should probably do that tomorrow #god. I’m gonna have to be around my mom. #guys I want to kill myself but I don’t but I want to leave everyone behind which is just another way of killing myself and I also wouldn’t #survive that #I just don’t fuckin get it #I want to FIX what’s wrong with me but I need my mom in order to do that #and it doesn’t even matter all of these things that my mom has the capacity to buy for me #when she says she can’t and will take all of it away when IM the one having a bad day and just doesn’t want to talk about shit #like why can’t you see that!!!!!!! why can’t you meet me where I’m at and understand that!!!!! #I want to DIEEEEEE #and then the question is like. what feeling or expression am I going to have when I don’t actually want to die #but I’m feeling an equivalent bad feeling if I were out of this place?? #I just. I know that life could be so much better and I know that people love me but GOD dude it’s so fuckin hopeless now

[satorusugurugurl]

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk men #jjk reader insert #jjk geto #jjk x you #reader x geto #suguru x reader #jjk suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru smut #jjk gojo smut #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk gojo #reader x gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader x geto #satosugu #satoru x reader #reader x satoru #jujutsu satoru #satoru x reader x suguru #satosugu reader smut #jjk reader smut #reader x suguru #suguru x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo

[lasciviouspoison]

omg hey guyssss!!! this was literally written off the fly, lol. each time i get 🍃 i think abt plug eren and how he’d be obsessed with the pretty college girl he serves to. tw: plug!eren x chubby reader, implied inexperienced reader, implied black reader (anyone can read!!), afab!reader, and, obviously, anything else i missed. not proof read cause idgaf :p

ps. y’all i loved writing this and i love my man. missing him bad :(

plug!eren that loves serving u, his prettiest customer. always makes sure to respond to ur text within the same minute, no matter the condition he’s in.

plug!eren who gets so happy when u ask him to teach u how to roll. each time he’s served u, he’s just brought u pre-rolls since u never bothered to ask for any other rolling materials. but this time, u finally caved and asked him to teach u, saying, “i’m just tired of spending my money on a multiple pre-rolls everyday. i wanna roll for myself” - mind u, eren hasn’t ever charged u.

plug!eren that sees u eyeing him intensely when he starts licking down the sheet, green eyes challenging yours each time he goes to toast the j. he got off on hearing your breath shudder slightly each time he gave it a lick, laughing silently to himself.

plug!eren who watches you smile brightly upon not ripping the sheet (you went through 3 before getting it right). he critiques your j as the two of you hit it, saying u only really needed to work on your mouth piece. however, it was hard for u to digest anything he was saying over the loudness of your thoughts. you couldn’t get the image of eren licking the j out of ur head, wondering if he’d take that much care with u. head between ur legs, using his tongue with the utmost precision. god it’d feel so good -

“whatcha thinkin’ bout pretty girl?” eren’s voice pulls you out of ur thoughts and u smile, not trusting urself enough to express ur feelings without flat out telling him you wanted to fuck.

“i’m just… thinking about everything… you know?” he laughs at the slow pace and raspiness of your voice.

“hmm.. want rennie to make the thoughts go away?”

your head lolls onto the back of the couch and your bra-less chest points toward the sky. he can see the outline of your pierced nipples through your baby pink tank top and he sighs.

the two of you finally make eye contact once more and you lean your head up towards his, eyes deadlocked on his lips.

“please.”

that was all eren needed to hear before engulfing you in his arms. he pulls you onto his lap and runs his hands up the sides of your body, taking extra time to trace the chub that outlines ur tummy.

he drags his thumbs over your nipples causing your body to jerk. he smiles slightly and flicks his eyes up to yours, silver eyebrow piercing glittering in the warm livingroom lighting. he peppers kisses along your jawline before finally kissing your lips. you can’t help but think about how soft his lips are and it makes u let out a soft moan.

he breaks the kiss but never stops rubbing on you, “you taste so sweet. is it ya lipgloss?”

you smile, “yeah. it’s that glossier shit. cookie butter.”

he kisses you again, running his tongue over your lips once he breaks it once more, “i bet your pussy’s sweeter than this though.”

before you can respond, he reaches down into your shorts and plays with the waistband of your panties. rubbing his fingers over the outline of your cunt, causing you to shiver each time.

eren kisses your lips once more and finally touches your bare pussy. once his fingers find your clit, he makes the smallest circles and your hips jerk. he can feel you begin to pull away from the kiss, but his mouth follows you, preventing you from complaining.

he begins to apply a bit more pressure and you ease up in his grip once more. his fingers then travel down further and begin to make their way inside you. unable to hold yourself together, you let out a slight “fuck” and eren groans.

“you’re so fuckin wet. you mus’ really like me, huh baby”. he licks his lips and kisses your neck.

“yes ren… liked you since i first seen you.”, you admit.

eren pulls his head from your neck and grips your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes. “aww. baby had a crush on ‘er plug. gonna make this pussy feel so good for you, ‘kay?”

after a small yes, eren lays you down gently on your couch and begins to pull your shorts and panties down. your hands go to cover yourself and he pins them to your chest. he then pulls your tank top over your head and leaves the material loosely around your wrists.

immediately after, eren removes his shirt and your eye to eye with his tatted stomach and chest. you knew by his arms he had a lot of ink, but it was never assumed to go this far. his tattoos were so sexy though, they made your mouth water.

eren then began his assault on your neck once more, this time gradually making his way down your body. he ran his tongue over your nipples, releasing each with an obnoxiously loud pop.

as he made his way down your stomach, you could feel him start to lick down your body, making a point to leave a trail of red splotches in his wake.

when his eyes deadlock on your pussy, you can feel eren’s dick jump in his pants. he takes his thumb and pulls the hood of your vagina up, taking his sweet time in admiring your pink pussy.

he licks his lips and smirkss at you before diving head first in between your legs. his long, pink tongue swirls over your clit so gently, it makes you see stars. he licks you just like the sheet, so slowly that it takes your breath away.

he sucks gently on your clit and your hands reach down to run through his hair. your fingers wrap around the root and pull slightly, causing him to groan into your pussy.

his hand runs up your leg and you feel his middle and index finger push into your walls, gently caressing your g-spot.

by this point, your writhing so hard against the bed eren’s had to use all of his strength to restrain you with one hand. and while you knew eren could overpower you, having firsthand proof made you all the more wet.

with a few more licks to your clit, eren found you suddenly tensing up against his tongue, small body shaking and convulsing around his tongue as your orgasm overpowered your senses.

“pretty baby’s never came this hard huh? s’okay, you got somebody to handle you now. i’ll make this cunt cum everyday. my perfect girl.”

with the combination of eren’s dirty words and his gentle caresses against your nipples, it was extremely hard for you to ground yourself within reality. he was too good at sex, especially for someone as inexperienced as you.

eren finally rises and removes his jeans. his black calvin’s cling to his hips and muscular thighs as he drags you by your ankle to the edge of your couch.

he pulls down his boxers and his dick hits his stomach with a dull thud, angry red tip leaving a bit of pre where it made contact with his stomach.

he presses your legs against your body and grips his dick, hard. he runs it through your fold a few times, using the slight curve of his dick to hit your clit each time he got close. he tapped his dick against your clit a few times, and finally slipped it in.

with the two of you simultaneously gasping, eren’s grip on your hips got tighter, desperately trying to will himself to not fully sheath himself inside of you. as he slowly slipped in, he could feel your pussy twitch against him, forcing him to thumb at your clit.

“need ya to calm down baby. gonna squeeze me to death” his voice is rough and restrained, similar to his hips.

you respond, breathless and weak, “m’tryin. feel you s’deep”

his eyes flick up to yours, “oh yeah? where ya feel me baby?”

your head peaks up slightly and eren takes a look at your fucked out face. lips wet, red, and swollen, eyes watery with rosy cheeks. you were so beautiful, he never wanted to take his eyes off of you. but, he had a more pressing matter at hand.

your hand reaches down and presses on your stomach, signifying to eren where his dick is inside you. however, you choke out a moan and add onto his ever growing ego, “but i swear ren, i feel you in my throat. you’re just so - fuck - you’re so big” placing much emphasis on big.

his eyes roll into the back of his skull as he looses all composure. his hips snap relentlessly into yours, bullying his cock into your tight pussy. by this point, eren is not only lost in the feeling of your cunt, but knowing that he needs to feel you cum around him.

he keeps a hand locked onto your jaw, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. you can see how feral he is behind his eyes and it makes you gush. he’s like a wild animal and it turns you on way more than you ever imagined.

with a particular thrust, eren hits that soft spot inside of you and your legs instinctively lock around his hips. the worldless confirmation was all he needed to continue to hit that special spot inside of you. as the speed of his hips increases, he finally reaches his peak, with that familiar pulse of your pussy shortly following.

a particularly loud “fuck” leaves your mouth at the same times eren grits out your name. his hips operate on autopilot, snapping back into your cunt at a jagged pace.

once eren returns to earth, he sees the white ring of cream you left around the base of his cock. he swipes two fingers down and places them to your lips. “suck”, is all that leaves his mouth and you follow his command.

as eren slowly pulls out of you, your head lolls against the couch and you finally feel yourself catch a breath.

when eren returns, he uses a warm rag to wipe you up before helping you put your clothes back on. after he follows suit, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to your room.

he sets you down and pulls back your baby pink duvet, tucking you into the blankets. you reach your hand up to him and grab his shirt sleeve, confusion and hurt dancing behind your eyes.

eren kneels beside your bed and pets your hair, “i’m not runnin out on ya y/n. i jus gotta do my job. i’ll be back once im finished, promise.” he gives you a gentle kiss on the lips, and you can hear his shoes scuff against the hardwood floor as your eyes close.

however, hours later, you’re awoken to the sound of knocks at your door and your phone ringing; it’s eren.

“hello?” you answer, voice groggy from sleep.

eren chuckles slightly and lets out a breath, “told you i’d be back ma. lemme in”.

#eren #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x chubby reader #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren jeager smut #eren x black reader #eren aot #my man my man my man

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8

AN: Sorry these are taking longer than normal, after the 25th I'm a free fuckin' agent and if you check my updated masterlist you will see I have so many things in the works.

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, SA

Word Count: 4,189

Another week had come and gone. A week full of tight corsets, uncomfortable shoes, trips to the Autumn Court and of course, snide comments from Eris.

As of late I had begun having nightmares. The kind that left me screaming in bed with no one to hear me. The kind that had me waking up in a pool of my own sweat. It was the same every time, I was the dog in the back of Eris’ kennels. Scared, alone and caged. I would scour the entire cage for a way out, my finger with that giant wedding ring on it scouring the straw covered floors, never once finding an escape. Eris would come in and bend me over like an animal and sometimes I would wake up before he used me and sometimes I would wake up after. 

Regardless I was left unable to sleep. So I had taken to my dear brother's liquor cabinet to procure my own sleeping tonic, whiskey. For a few nights it has worked to put me to sleep, but not tonight. 

I swirled the last little bit of whiskey around the bottom of the bottle before slugging it all down. I had been slowly nursing the bottle the past two nights knowing that tonight might be my only night to procure a new bottle without anyone seeing. Tonight was boys night at Rita’s meaning that Cassian and Azriel were out with my brother and no one was home to fuss over my new drinking habits. 

I toss the empty bottle off the side of my bed and slowly but surely get up, wrapping myself in my silk night robe. My feet wobble beneath me as I make my way to the door, thankfully I know the way to the kitchen like the back of my hand. The only real obstacle being the long dark hallway, but even that’s a straight shot.  

I close the door of my bedroom quietly behind me in case there are any maids wandering about the dark hallway that I can’t see. I walk in as straight a line as I can and it isn’t long until I run smack into a wall. When the hell did that get there? 

“Princess? ” Cassian hiccuped

It takes me a second to realize the wall I ran into was Cassian, and I start to feel a little better, that is until I start to wobble again. 

“Are you drunk?” Cassian hiccups again and I feel his hands on my arms stabilizing me. The smell of cedar, leather and whiskey floating over to me.

“Yeah, but you are too,” I pointed out, pushing a finger into his rock hard chest for emphasis. My eyes adjust to the dark lighting and I can see his face peering down at me. That sculpted, beautiful face that they should really write sonnets about. 

“Have to drown my sorrows somehow,”  Cassian shrugs, letting go of my arms, stumbling back on his feet. 

“Pfft, like you have any sorrows general,”  I scoff, starting to move past him. I trip on his foot and nearly fall over, the only thing keeping me from getting an awful rug burn is Cassian catching me by my upper arm. 

“Shit princess I can barely walk but let me get you a glass of water,” he says, putting me back on my two feet again. 

My heart flutters at his kindness, “You would do that?” I smile drunkenly. 

“I’d do anything for you y/n,” Cassian replies and I can tell by the expression on his face that he regrets the words the moment they come out of his drunken mouth. It dawns on me that I’ve never heard Cassian call me by my name before, and I quite like the sound of it. 

“W-would you really?” I stumble letting my drunk mind do the talking. 

“As long as you’ll let me, I’ll do anything for you princess,” he reiterates and I don’t miss how he switches back to my formal title once more. 

“Cassian,” I breathe, unable to say anything more. 

“Anything, just tell me what you want,” he says quietly. 

My mind swirls with all the things that I want him to do. Get me a glass of water, take me away from here, kiss me. But all those lead to one common bad ending…

“Eris,” I whisper, realizing how close Cassian is to me. 

“Don’t marry him,”  Cassian slurs, wobbling a bit as he places his hands on my hips. The feeling of his hands on me, and knowing that the only thing separating his skin from mine is a thin silk robe. He seems to realize it too as his glassed over eyes look me up and down. It’s enough to sober up my mind and realize what’s going on. 

“You shouldn’t touch me,” I say. “I belong to Eris now.” 

“Not yet you don’t,” he hiccups for the third time. “Please, don’t marry him,” he says, getting even closer to me. 

I push Cassian off me and he stumbles back, “You’re drunk Cassian and I am too. We should both go to bed, we have a big day tomorrow.” I say stumbling back as best I can towards my bedroom. 

The general doesn’t say anything, doesn’t protest or beg and as I step into my bedroom I don’t miss the curse he mutters to himself before waltzing into his own. 

The next morning I wake with a raging headache that has me in bed until it’s time for me to attend dinner at the Autumn Court. If it wasn’t for my ladies maids I never would’ve left the warm cocoon of my covers. But I did, and in place of soft sheets was a death grip of a corset and I swore it was tighter than the last one. I looked in the mirror and realized that they had been choosing more and more revealing dresses for me, this one I was sure I had never seen before now. 

I made my way into the foyer where I knew Cassian would be waiting dutifully and sure enough the second I walked in his eyes turned to me. I searched for a sign of regret or awkwardness in his eyes given the events of last night, but all I found was Cassian. Handsome, strong, loyal and wonderful Cassian, and a part of me sighed in relief knowing I wouldn’t lose the one life line I had when I was in Eris’ territory. 

“You ready to go?” He asks me as he always does. 

“I think so,” I answer walking over to him so he can scoop me up. 

We take off into the air and the second we are airborne I feel a chill run up my spine. We don’t normally head to the Autumn Court so late in the day, and without the sun to warm my skin the cold seeps in. A cold that has me curling into Cassian more and I swear I feel his arms tighten around me. 

“So dinner with the potential, future in-laws tonight?” he asks. 

“I suppose so,” I sigh. 

“You’ll do great, don't worry,” he smiles trying to lift my mood.

“And what if I don’t want to do great? What if I want things to go so terribly that Eris breaks off the engagement and starts a fight?” I bluster, half joking. 

“Then I’ll hold while you punch Princess,” Cassian laughs and the vibrations roll through my body. 

“Good dog,” I joke and Cassian erupts in a fit of laughter that warms my soul. 

By the time we get there the Autumn Court is lit up with fae lights and the way they illuminate the colors of the autumn trees is breathtaking. Even in the distance I see and feel Eris’ presence like a dark cloud looming over me. Cassian touches down on the front steps and places me on the ground like I’m made of porcelain. 

“Good evening my little flame,” Eris greets me, allowing his hands to fall to my waist pulling me in for a kiss. This past week he has gotten more comfortable with affection, but thankfully he had never repeated what happened under the willow tree. 

“Good evening Eris,” I give a fake smile as he takes my hands in his. It was my last visit that Eris insisted that I dropped the formalities of calling him Prince Eris, something I felt was off character.

“I have a gift for you,” he smiles, pulling a long black box out from behind his back. He opens it revealing a necklace made up of large rubies. No doubt part of the crown jewels of the Autumn Court. 

“Oh Eris! It’s beautiful,” I smile, running my hand over the large gems. I hated to admit it but they were truly breathtaking. Something I would’ve asked my brother to gift me for solstice. “You didn’t have to do that.”  

Eris plucks the necklace from the velvet box and motions me to turn around so he can put it on. “I might’ve had ulterior motives,” he smirks, placing the jewels over my neck and clasping them on. 

“Well thank you, I really do love it,” I say, running my hands over the large jewels one last time. 

It isn’t until I feel the weight of the necklace and hear his words that I realize that ulterior motive. This isn’t just a gift, or a necklace, or even a family heirloom. It's a collar. One meant to show that I belong to him. The weight of it suddenly becomes burdensome and doubles as Eris stands back to admire the necklace now that I’m wearing it. 

 “It looks perfect on that beautiful little neck,” he smirks, offering me his arm that I take politely. “My family is very eager to meet you. Especially my brothers who have only ever heard stories of your beauty.” he says leading me inside.

“Well I hope that I can live up to my reputation then,” I smile as my heels clack along the marble floors. 

“In that dress little flame,” Eris says, looking me up and down, eyes lingering on the cleavage the neckline showed off. “You will be like a walking temptation.” 

We make our way to the large dining room and my eyes scan the table. Mounds and mounds of food and wine are littered all over it, enough for the whole court I presume. Everything from duck to boar, no doubt from Eris’ hunts. My mind flashes to the hounds in the kennel and I actively push the thought away. 

 On one side of the table sits Eris’ six brothers, all of them alike in age. At the head of each end sits Beron Vanserra and his wife. I look for an empty chair, and only find two. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again princess,” Beron booms as Eris pulls my chair out for me. 

“And you as well High Lord,” I smile bowing to him. 

I’m thankful for the chair that now supports me from beneath as I feel my knees start to wobble. I look around at the table once more now that I’m seated, and the plethora of red hair and piercing eyes is enough to make me feel like I’m a lamb shoved in a wolf's den. I feel Cassian taking up space by the door and my heart breaks knowing he must be hungry too. 

“Excuse me High Lord,” I ask, pulling Beron’s attention. “But I wonder if you might procure a seat for my guard so that he might enjoy this divine meal as well.” 

“Bastards are not allowed to sit at this table,” Beron says with a cool, calm, authority that I almost envy. My blood boils at his words, and tears nearly brim my eyes. Cassian was so much more than a ‘bastard’. Gods, one Cassian was worth more than everyone at this table combined. But to say that would mean my head on a platter. 

“Of course my Lord, I don’t know what came over me,” I apologize, bowing my head in submissal. 

“Darling you simply must try the wine,” Eris says pouring me a glass.

I swirl the red liquid around and give it a sniff. The strong scent of dark, ripe berries hits my nose. I take a sip and though I hate to admit it, it tastes like heaven. Or perhaps my body is aware that the effects of this wine are the only things that will help me get through this dinner. 

“It’s amazing,” I beam looking at my glass. “I love bold reds.”

“From our vineyards here in the Autumn Court,” Beron says proudly. “I’ll be sure to send a case to your brother for you both to enjoy.”

“We would love that, thank you.” I smile while taking another sip. 

The table falls into a comfortable conversation and I do my best to keep my head down like Beron's wife, as whatever behavior she portrays will likely be what’s expected of me. So far her etiquette imitates what Eris so crudely said to me just a few days ago…Wives are meant to be seen and not heard, except for in bed of course. Men do love the little whimpers of pain women emit when they are deflowered…   

I suppress a shudder at the remembrance of those words, and even though the comment that floats to my ears is another bit of sexist garbage, I’m sadly grateful for the distraction. 

“By the gods she is perfect,” one of Eris' brothers says quietly to the other. 

I try to hide my blush with another sip of wine, followed by another chunk of potato. Doing everything I can to pretend that I can’t hear the conversation the three brothers in front of me are quietly having. 

“Look at her tits,” another one rasps his eyes not so subtly glazing over me, the other brother in the conversation doing the same. I suddenly feel like I’m a piece of livestock up for auction. 

“How is it that Eris gets to have the Jewel?” the third one asks quietly, but not quiet enough to escape Eris’ ears.   

“Because I am the eldest!” Eris shouts, slamming his fists on the table, and the only person who doesn’t jump from his outburst is Beron. “And you’d do well to hold your tongue in front of the potential mother to the heir of the throne you’ll never inherit.” 

I can see the other side of the table debating whether to fight back or not, but it’s Beron who breaks the silence with the ease only a High Lord could do. “I assume that you and your brother will be attending our ball celebrating our fall solstice later this week princess?” Beron asks me. 

“Yes of course,” I tell him, setting down my glass of wine. 

“Wonderful! We’re quite excited to have you both in attendance. It is our fist ball since our time under the mountain,” he explains. 

“Who else will be attending?” I ask, swirling my wine around in its glass. 

“All the High Lords and the most trusted members of their courts,” Beron answers and it takes everything in me not to laugh. 

My mind flickered back to the months before my family locked me away, months where every High Lord would fall to his feet and beg for my hand in marriage. No doubt Eris would now play the role of fighting them all off and the image of him being an angry and frustrated toddler brought me joy.   

“Then I hope your son isn’t a jealous man,” I smile while sipping my wine. “Helion is a good friend, but he’s been asking my brother for my hand for years. Rhys practically had to beat him off with a stick.” I laugh, the effects of the wine taking over. 

What’s meant to be a lighthearted joke turns sour as I see the flames dance in Eris’ eyes, “Jealousy is a weak emotion, princess, But rest assured, I have no intention of allowing any man to lay claim to what is rightfully mine,” he starts and leans into my ear so only I can hear him. “And if Helion continues to pursue you, I’ll just have to deflower you right in front of his very eyes.” 

I want to come up with a witty response. I want to yell or scream or defend myself for the love of gods, but I can’t. All I can do is swallow the fear within me with another sip of wine and hope this den of wolves doesn't scent my fear. 

The rest of dinner is quiet and uneventful, I let the men converse, keeping note of the many glasses of wine Eris consumes. I turn my attention to the only other female at the table and I try to study her every move. Beron's wife says nothing, and I note that it’s my job to do the same. A pretty little wall ornament indeed. 

“If you’ll excuse us father,” Eris says standing up. “I would like to take the princess on a little stroll.” 

“Very well my son you are excused,” Beron nods to Eris. “I look forward to seeing you later this week my dear.” Beron says to me. 

I nod, trying to keep the illusion of submission up and Eris leads me out of the dining hall and down a dark hall. The chattering voices no doubt talking about me drifting off behind us. As we get further and further away from the dining room, I start to feel my stomach drop. Something is wrong, something is terribly wrong. But like usual, I don’t have the voice to say anything. We come across another dark hall, one so pitch black I would think it’s an endless void if it wasn’t for  the light at the far end.

“Sit and stay bastard,” Eris growls towards Cassian like he’s one of his hounds. “I require a private moment with the Jewel.” 

Cassian grumbles but allows Eris to lead me further into the shadows, the only way he could see us at this point is the faelight at the other end of the hall that would cast our silhouettes onto the floor. I try to throw him a frightened glance, but just like many times before, Eris seems to have found a way to keep me from doing so. 

“The general seems quite attached to you, it’s nice to finally have some time alone,” Eris says as he leads me through the long dark hallway. I swear I’d bump into a rouge chaise or grandfather clock lining the wall if it wasn’t his arm in mine. 

“Cassian has my best interest at heart, he wants to keep me safe,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from sounding confrontational.

“And he believes that I couldn’t keep you safe?” Eris retorts and I nearly scoff. 

“It’s not that, I think he believes you might take certain…shall I say, liberties with me,” I mumble trying to keep my head low. 

Eris' body tenses next to mine and I know I’ve made a grave mistake. “You’re mine, I can take whatever liberties I wish to.” he growls and before I know it my back is against a wall. “If he thinks I’ll marry you without trying you out he’s more of a simple minded bastard than I thought.” 

“Eris please,” I breathe trying to rip my wrists from his grasp but it’s no use. 

“Are you fighting or begging, little flame?” he muses, wine scented breath brushing my neck. “Either way it makes my cock hard.” he smiles, pressing his lips to my neck. 

His body is flush to mine and I can feel one hand pinning my wrists to the wall in a way that will leave bruises while the other explores my body. His lips are hot and wet on my neck and chest wandering dangerously low. 

“This isn’t proper,” I protest and try to wiggle out of his grasp for emphasis but I only succeed in grinding myself into him more. 

“Then I’ll make it fucking proper!” Eris seethes gripping my chin to make my gaze meet his. Those amber eyes are somehow darker and more intimidating in the low light.  “Now be a good girl and let me kiss you,” he smirks before pressing his lips to mine. 

For what it was worth Eris hadn’t made any advances on me since the first time under the willow. But tonight, with the copious amounts of wine flowing through his veins? Well it must’ve been just enough for his resolve to snap.  His lips still taste like venom, everything about him all wrong. It takes everything in me not to get sick all over his perfectly tailored jacket. 

“Eris stop it!” I whine pushing him away further. 

“I must have you my little flame,” he groans and I feel his hands grip my skirt. 

My heart starts to race even more, and if I wasn’t going to be sick before I surely was going to be now.  His mouth resumed its assault on my neck, messy and needy just like earlier. Large hands bunch up the layers of fabric and tulle until the cold air hits my bare legs.  

“ERIS STOP!” I screamed pushing him off me with all my strength and it was enough to make him stumble. 

A dark shadow appears before us as if it was transported there, “Eris that’s enough! It’s time for the princess to go home.” Cassian roars. 

“Stay in your place bastard!” Eris seethes. “She belongs to me. I can use her however I like!” 

“She belongs to no one! You have no right to compromise her virtue before you wed her. Rhysand won’t allow it.” Cassian continues, the voice of a general coming through. One so demanding even I would lower my weapons for him, apparently not Eris. 

“Ha!” Eris laughs, thrusting a hand out to grab me by my neck. His grip is like a vice, a collar that burns hotter than one he already gave me. “Didn’t you hear her little begs? I think she might want to be deflowered before the ceremony. Wouldn’t you pet?”

Cassian’s hand strikes, grabbing Eris’ wrist. The one connected to the hand wrapped around my throat, “All I have to do is squeeze and that hand won’t hold a bow for months and I have the authority to do so. Get your fucking hands off her before I shatter your entire arm,” he growls and even I feel fear from his tone.    

The deafening ringing of the clocktower bells chime throughout the palace like the voice of the gods dampening the tension in the air. The seven chimes signal it’s time for me to return home once more. Eris releases me, and against my better judgment Cassian releases Eris. But it doesn’t stop them from staring daggers into one another, if Cassian jumps now it’ll be his head on a pike and I’d rather die than allow that to happen. 

“Cassian is right,” I say to Eris standing between the two of them. “It’s better if we wait. If you choose to marry me, imagine how amazing our wedding night will be.” I smile at Eris, pulling him for a passionate kiss, hiding every ounce of disgust I feel. 

“That’s more like it, my pet,” he smirks, glancing up at Cassian in a challenge. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Until then,” I smile, letting Cassian lead me away.  

The second we are around the corner that shields us from Eris’ view we both begin walking much faster. As if the eldest son of autumn is a monster at our heels and we have limited time to get out of this gods forsaken palace. When the crisp air of Autumn hits my skin Cassian doesn’t even ask if I’m ready before picking me up and shooting me into the sky.  

“We need to go talk to Rhys and tell him what happened,” Cassian said, his wings pounding with a new urgency. 

“No!” I protest. “We can’t tell him. I don’t want him to have an even more guilty conscience than he has from the last fifty years.” 

“Princess you saw what just happened back there! Eris was going to take advantage of you. Rhys deserves to know.” he argues. 

“If Rhys knows he’ll call off the courtship and if he calls off the courtship then I can’t marry Eris which means I can’t save my court,” I explain. 

“This has gotten out of hand princess, we have to tell your brother,” Cassian grumbles. 

“Cassian please, don’t take my choices away from me. I love my court and I love my family. If this is how I can help all of you in the war I want to,” I shrill. “I can take ‘the sky is falling’ from just about everyone but you. I need you to support me Cassian.” 

I look into Cassian’s eyes and I can see them still burning with unmatched fury. I let my own eyes plead to his, trying to convey how badly I needed him to stay quiet about what had happened. How badly I needed him to let me do this, to trust me. His eyes softened and his gaze fixed itself on the flight before us. 

“Fine,” he shook his head. “But if he pulls a stunt like that again I won’t stand by and watch this time.” 

“Of course not general,” I smile, watching the wind whip the stray hairs from his face. “I’ll hold while you punch.” 

Though he tries to hide his amusement at my joke, Cassian’s mouth can’t help but turn up into a half smile.

Part 4

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime, @heyyitsnat21,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358

#cassian x you #cassian angst #cassian acotar #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian x reader smut #rhysand smut #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[ficmashup]

Lifelines

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Alright, I think I've decided on eight parts for this. Or at least that's the limit I've set for myself, so it might be less. I like even numbers and ten just seems like too much. I might do little drabbles for G and the team later on, but these eight parts will be the end of the sequential story. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Vague references to SA and PTSD just to cover my bases, crass language, sickening fluff.

Word Count: 4.5k

Feral Masterlist

It’s been three months since I joined TF141.

“I hate this fucking thing, fucking impossible, fucking piece of shit…” I’m elbow deep in a car engine in a valley, trying to fix the damn thing. Gaz is watching me and looks torn between being afraid of me or amused about the amount of cursing I’m doing. We just finished a mission and are waiting for the others to meet us here so we can drive to the exfil point. If I can get this damn car running, anyway.

“What are you planning to do on leave, G?” Gaz asks and I give him a pointed look. He raises his hands in surrender, smirking but wisely keeping his mouth shut. We’ll be on leave as soon as we get back to base and I might be a little…uneasy about it. I’ve finally settled into a pattern here and returning home to my empty apartment in a city I barely know doesn’t exactly appeal to me. “Hey, G?” Gaz calls again and I take a breath to cuss him out, but swallow every word I’m about to say when he holds up a tiny hard candy.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, my tone changing in an instant.

He grins, pulling the wrapper taut so it unwraps itself. “You’re not the only one who likes sugar, G. You want it?” I nod, pulling out a hand before frowning at seeing it smeared with oil and dirt. “Yeah, don’t think that’s going to work. Open up.” He holds the candy out and I hold out my tongue, humming happily as he slides it off the wrapper and onto my tongue. The flavor fills my mouth and my mood instantly lifts at tasting the sweet treat.

“What are you doing on leave, Gaz? And if you say ‘breaking hearts’, I’ll break your favorite fingers.” I go back to work, my steady hands replacing the part that broke with the replacement we luckily had on hand. My tongue tucks the hard candy into my cheek.

He chuckles. “Nah, I won’t break hearts this time. Some backs, maybe.” Amusement fills his warm brown eyes as I give him a deadpan look and I can only hold it for a second before smiling.

“You’re a menace.” I scold and his own smile grows.

“Haven’t gotten a complaint yet.”

“Yeah? You give out comment cards?”

“Sure do. Each one sprayed with a little cologne to keep their memories fresh.”

I snort. “Let me guess, the average is three stars out of five?” I raise a brow at him before smirking to myself at his outraged expression.

“You’re a cruel woman, G. Always strike for the heart.” He puts his hand over his chest as if I’d mortally wounded him. My head shakes as I finally make the connection I needed and I finally stand up straight, stretching and wiping away the sweat on my brow.

“You’re right, I’m being too charitable. It’s two stars, isn’t it?” His jaw drops and my smile only grows. “Can’t blame me for doubting you, Gaz. You couldn’t figure out where to plug in the hose to the car, how am I to expect you to know where to put anything else?”

“Fuckin’ hell, G. Just cut my balls off and be done with it.” But he’s grinning just like I am. I flick my chin towards the driver’s side as I step off to the side and grab a rag to wipe off some of the grime covering me.

“Try to start her up and see if it works. You do know where the key goes, yeah?” I tease and he gives me the middle finger while I chuckle. He slides into the car and as soon as he turns the key, the car starts. I breathe out a long sigh of relief and nod to him, shutting the hood and slapping it twice to make sure it’s secure. Gaz cuts the car off just as the others arrive and all eyes go to me and the mess that I’ve made of myself. “Car’s fixed.” I tell them the end result and look them over carefully for any injuries.

“Good to know.” Price says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ten minutes, then we move out.” He spins a finger in the air before moving a bit closer to me and Gaz. “Did you just sit here and look pretty while G did the work, Garrick?” He asks and I hide my smile at the edge of humor in his voice.

Gaz shrugs a shoulder. “It is what I’m best at, Captain.” Price chuckles, shaking his head before looking at me with that little spark in his eyes that I’m growing to love seeing. I roll the candy to my other cheek and Price tracks the movement, smile widening a little.

“Clearly. She looks like she bathed in oil.” Ghost, always the one to be relied upon to be complimentary, says and I swear I see his nose scrunch under his mask.

“You’re welcome to walk back to base.” I respond lightly and wave away Soap’s attempts to wipe the oil off my face with a rag he just spit on.

Ghost steps towards me and I give him an extra thorough once over to make sure he’s not hiding anything. My eyes zero in on a rip on the outside of his left pantleg on his thigh. Red tinges the fabric. “But seriously, clean up before you get in the car or you’ll kill us all with fumes.” He comments gruffly, but with a hint of laughter in his voice.

“What’s that?” I ask immediately, taking Soap’s rag and wetting it with my canteen before wiping my hands as clean as I can get them. Ghost is quick to take a single step back as his mouth opens. “And you think long and hard about the wisdom of lying to me.” I bite at him before he can say a word and he gives me a heavy sigh, but I don’t back down when he stares at me.

“Just a graze.” He grumbles and I point to the ground, telling him to sit. Reluctantly, he sets his gear down before sitting in the dirt.

“Pants down.” I curl my fingers and give him a pointed look as he starts to roll his eyes. He shimmies them down enough for me to see the wound. It is just a graze. Not too deep, but something he should have reported. “Alright. You’re going to sit here and wait while I clean my hands, then you’re going to let me treat this. In return, I will not yell at you for keeping this to yourself.” I offer him a deal and we stare off for another few moments before he sighs again, then nods.

“No promises here.” Price says and gives Ghost a pointed look of his own which Ghost shrugs off. I scrub my hands and arms almost raw before disinfecting myself and walking back over to Ghost who has thankfully stayed put.

“Didn’t see any use in troubling you, G.” He says quietly as I meticulously clean the wound with my candy held between my teeth before it disintegrates. “Would’ve taken care of it when we got back to base.”

“You trying to make me obsolete, Ghost?” I ask softly, glancing at his eyes when he hesitates to answer and seeing the surprise on his half-hidden face behind the mask. “Because this is my job. Which means by definition, this isn’t troubling me, it’s letting me do my fucking job. And Soap came to me last week with a paper cut, so never feel like your injuries are too small for me to treat.”

“It was fucking between my fingers! Hurt like a bitch!” Soap objects from the car while Gaz grins next to him and pats his shoulder in consolation. Price is leaning against the side of the jeep, watching us while slowly smoking one of his favored cigars.

Ghost hums and I can see the thoughts behind his eyes as he thinks on it. “You want me to come see you when I get a papercut?” He asks while I begin wrapping the wound, just to keep it clean while we’re traveling.

“I want you to lean on me.” I respond softly, well aware of what I’m asking of him. “When you’re injured or sick, trust me to do my job and take care of you.” My fingers are ginger as they finish the wrappings, but I stay kneeling next to him as I meet his gaze. He’s silent for a little bit, considering as he usually does, before he nods once.

“I’ll work on it.” The response isn’t out of the ordinary for him and usually means no, but his tone is softer this time. I’ll take it.

I nod and stand while he straightens himself out too. “Good. I’m going to give you a list of how to care for that and you’re going to send me a picture of it every day while we’re on leave.” My gaze turns sharp and this time he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Just come check on it yourself, G. Your flat isn’t far from mine.” He offers and I blink at him while he stands, his hand sliding over the small rip in his pants with a frown. “I’ll take you for tea in that place I told you about.” His gaze lifts to mine and I struggle to hide what the offer means to me, how he’s offered a lifeline that I’ll cling to during leave.

“Deal. But I don’t want to hear a fucking thing about the amount of sugar I put in.”

He groans, but I see his mask twitch with a smile. “Gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

I smirk at him. “More likely to be shot before my heart gives out.” He adjusts his gloves on his hands while shaking his head and we head over to the car with everyone else.

“G, come ‘ere.” Price curls his fingers and I walk over to him as he folds a piece of cloth into a square. “Your face is still covered in muck.” He offers me the damp cloth and I take it with a grateful nod, scrubbing my face quickly before looking back at him for a once over. He chuckles and the sound makes my skin tingle and my stance lax. If I could bottle it, I’m positive the sound would be gold as sunlight.

“I didn’t get it all, did I?”

“Yeah, not quite.”

I huff, folding the cloth before handing it to him. “I’m not going to get all of it because I can’t see. Forget it.”

Price straightens from his spot leaning against the car and takes half a step towards me, eyes on mine to check in as his fingers lift to hold my chin. “I’ve got it. Had to do this to Gaz when he faceplanted in the mud.” He waits as the surprise leaves my eyes and I give him a slight nod before gently using the cloth to clean my face.

“Yeah, I recall you shoving a rag in my face and scrubbing it like trying to get burnt cheese off a pan.” Gaz grumbles and the corner of my mouth twitches at the discontent in his voice, but I’m a little too taken with what Price is doing to focus on anything else. I’ve seen these hands gut a man like a fish with a knife the size of my forearm. Now, they’re gentle and firm as he wipes the cloth over my brow, across my jaw, dabbing at my cheek, then slides it down my nose while my lips twitch as it tickles.

I’m silent as he works and I take the time to look over Price’s face. I can see the pores of his skin, the individual hairs of his beard, the way the light hits his eyes and makes them seem a shade lighter. It’s nice…being tended to like this. Price finishes and turns my head back and forth a little while I swallow. “Verdict?” The words are supposed to be teasing, but it comes out a bit breathless.

Price’s eyes meet mine and his thumb slides back and forth over my chin a moment before he nods. “Fit.” He responds quietly before stepping back and we both look away. I’m a bit unsteady within my own mind and I’m happy to load the car when Price calls for it. I’m not sure what just happened, what just passed between him and I, but maybe going on leave isn’t such a bad thing after all. If only to get a little distance.

*     *     *

I’m itchy in the city.

Leave started a few days ago and I’m already irritated with civilian life. London is bustling as always and all the sounds and people have me taking a deep breath every minute just to keep calm. I keep walking, repeating the address in my head before the sign enters my sight and my shoulders lax a fraction. My steps are strong and sure as I make a beeline for the door before stepping in and surveying the shop. People mill about, some sitting down in the small café, and my next deep breath brings the scent of fresh coffee, tea, and pastries into my lungs. The familiarity among the unfamiliar settles me a bit more.

My eyes look towards the tables that are in clear view of the door, both front and back, and my gaze zeros in on a figure sitting at a table with the barest sliver of shadows across it. Naturally, he’d find the one place where there’s a shadow. I walk towards him with purpose and I get the privilege of actually seeing the corner of his mouth lift, rather than the little twitch of his mask. “How’s the wound, Simon?”

He chuckles and I can’t help smiling at getting to see the emotion on his unmasked face. It’s a show of trust that not many earn. “Isn’t that what you’re here to tell me?”

“Figured I’d trust your word while we have a cup. Unless you’d like to take a trip to the back so you can drop your pants?” I dare and he shakes his head, a real smile tugging on his lips.

“Wound’s fine. Barely twinges.” He answers as we settle across from one another at the table. We’re both angled slightly, me towards the back door behind him and him towards the front door behind me. Old habits die hard.

“Alright, tell me which swill is your least favorite and that’ll be the one I’ll get.” I tease, already feeling a little lighter being around a friend. He gives me a look, but silently points out rose tea on the menu. I raise a brow at him and he waves a hand at me, telling me to shut up before I can say anything. We order and I silently judge him for getting black tea, why not just get coffee, then stare down at the milky pink of my tea.

“Won’t bite you.” Simon says amusedly, his voice deep as he drinks his own tea. My fingers perch on either side of the cup as I try a sip. It’s sweet and floral. Not at all the type of drink that I would think Ghost would try, but my lips press together to keep in a wide smile as I realize I like it. “Thoughts?” He says and he already sounds smug.

I sigh, letting myself smile. “I love it.”

He chuckles. “Don’t sound too excited about it, G.”

“Means I have to put up with you being right.”

“Should be used to it. Happens all the time.”

“Some of the time.” I correct, smirking as he doesn’t combat me this time. “What are your plans this leave?” I ask as I take another sip of my sweet tea and Simon shrugs a shoulder while his legs stretch out a bit more under the table.

“No plans. Sit on my ass for a while without being bothered.” He says simply and my head shakes as I tap the pad of my finger against the edge of my cup. He sounds like an old man, but I’d be lying if I said that my plans were any different. But after being out with him today, the image of me sitting alone in my flat feels less peaceful and more…lonely. He quirks a brow at me as I look at him, but he lets me think before voicing my thoughts.

“If that’s your plan, then come out with me today. Sit on your ass tomorrow.” I offer, leaning my elbow on the table as I look over at him. His eyebrows raise and I think I see pleasant surprise flit through his eyes.

He copies my position and leans forward a bit. “Yeah? What are you doing today?”

My smile turns a little sheepish. “Grocery shopping?”

He chuckles, nodding as he finishes his cup of tea. “Alright, G. Let me judge what you fill your pantry with. Bet it’s all sugar.” I finish my cup as well and shoot a longing look at the tea leaves they have for sale. I make a mental note to come back and get a bag of rose tea for myself sometime. We head out and I tug my jacket tighter around me as a cool breeze greets us. It’ll be Winter soon.

“Yeah, and what do you buy? Fuckin oats?” I bat back and this time I get a little bit of a bigger laugh. The sound makes me grin and this time, as we walk through the city and we’re sure to keep within a handsbreadth of one another, I feel steady.

*     *     *

A week passes. Simon and I settle in a routine of meeting every other day either for tea or to go with the other on a meaningless errand. It helps make mundane life feel more…normal. We both relax knowing we have someone else to watch our backs. There’s a week left of leave and when I enter the little tea shop to meet Simon, I’m surprised by another guest.

“Price.” I greet him warmly, a little thrown off at how pleased I am to see him. He takes my hand and shakes it, then pulls me in for a hug. I breathe him in as my free hand slides over his back and my head rests briefly against his hard chest.

“Good to see you.” His arm tightens around me before we pull back and look each other over. He looks good in civilian clothes. I’ve seen him like this before, of course, when we went out to drink with the team. Somehow, this is different. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen him in a week. “And I prefer John when we’re on leave, if you don’t mind.” He says and I can’t help smiling softly at the sound of his voice. He coughs a little and I track the sound and pinching of his expression before his expression smooths. We stay close, standing barely half a foot apart while Simon stands opposite me across the table.

“John.” I correct and see the corner of his eyes crinkle at the sound of his first name from my mouth. “It’s good to see you too. I wasn’t expecting you.” My gaze cuts to Simon who smirks as the three of us sit down.

“Didn’t know he was going to be here till an hour ago. Figured I’d surprise you.” Simon says as he settles in his usual place and I in mine, Price sitting beside me on the right. “Besides, Price goes a little stir crazy when the four of us are out of sight for too long. Like leaving kids in the other room and things go a little too quiet.” I grin and Price chuckles.

“Already checked in with Soap to make sure he hasn’t blown anything up and Gaz spared me an hour before he had to run off for a date. You were the next stop.” He tilts his head towards Simon before looking towards me. “Hadn’t quite figured out a way to check in on you without being obvious, so this worked in my favor.”

The corner of my mouth lifts even as Price coughs quietly again. “You could just ask me for coffee and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.” Not completely true. I would’ve obsessed about the meeting and what it might be about until it happened, but now I know what his intentions are, my answer is true for any future attempts he might make. “Although, am I to take it that you checked in on us last because you trust us to cause the least amount of trouble?” I tease, smirking at Simon with the knowledge that since I was last, that means I cause the least amount of trouble.

He quirks a brow in return as if to say that isn’t saying much. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “More about the likelihood and type of trouble caused, but whatever makes you happy.” Price teases back and I lightly kick his shoe under the table for spoiling my fun. A server comes by and drops off three cups in front of us. Warm affection fills me as I pull the mug into my hands and soak in the warmth as I see the familiar pink of my favored rose tea. Simon must have ordered for us.

I peek over at Price’s cup and see a light amber. Surprise flits through me. I’d pegged him for a black tea man like Simon, despite how much I make fun of him for it. “It’s lemon. Only place that brews it right and makes a nice change from the usual.” Price tells me when he sees me looking and lifts the cup towards me. I lean in, steadying the cup with my hand even though he doesn’t let go of it as I take a sip. The slight zing hits my tongue first and my eyes widen a touch before the taste is soothed by a slight earthy bitterness not unlike tobacco.

“Mm. Suits you.” I say with a nod, relaxing back into my chair and offering my cup to him as an exchange before he holds up a hand with a shake of his head.

“Can’t handle that sweet stuff. Figures you’d like it, though.” He says with a slight smile and my heart beats a little funny as he takes a sip of his tea, putting his lips exactly where mine were while holding my gaze over the cup.

I shift in my seat, swallowing before breaking away and glancing at Simon while my skin gets a little hot. “We’re both predictable, then.”

Price makes a soft, disapproving noise that makes my head swing back towards him. “I’d like to think we just know each other.” He tempts a small smile onto my face and I nod once, allowing the amendment. We both look back over to Simon and while his expression is smooth, his eyes are twinkling with…something.

“Technically, Simon ordered so he knows us best. Softie.” I nudge his foot under the table and his gaze drops while he hides his smile behind his cup. The three of us talk for a while and finish our drinks before Simon comes up with a very suspicious reason to leave that I don’t buy for a second.

“Take Price to the shops with you, G.” He suggests as we file out of the tea shop out into the chilly air. My eyes widen at the suggestion and he can’t hide his smirk fast enough. Simon turns to Price while barely hiding a smug grin. “Maybe you can keep her from rottin’ her teeth with sugar.” Price turns to me, laughter in his eyes, but my focus is on Simon.

“You fucking loved that cereal I got, I saw you eating it when you were at my place and I know you have a box in your cabinet. You hide it behind your stupid packages of jerky.” I call him out, pointing at him accusingly. His brows raise.

“At least they have fuckin’ protein. All you’re getting are cavities.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you were actually the medic here.”

Simon opens his mouth, but Price cuts him off with a small pat to his chest. “As productive as this is, I think we all have places to be. Till next time, Simon.” They shake hands while I give Simon a pointed look that he smirks at before we part ways. Price and I walk down the street side by side in the opposite direction. “He’s told me about the trips you two have been making. It’s been good for him.”

I smile, pulling my sweater tighter around myself. “It’s been good for me too. Civilian life never seemed to…fit right after a deployment. Like that was my real life and this was an uncomfortable dream. Merging the two has helped.” Even walking down the street now with Price makes the world seem more concrete under my feet, the noise of people around us less grating, the breeze less chilling.

“That’s good to hear.” Price’s voice rumbles and his eyes are soft as he looks at me. “I wouldn’t mind going with you this time, if you’d have me.” Surprise flits through me, but I can’t keep myself from smiling.

“Of course, I’ll have you. I’d love the company.” People slide by and I automatically slide my hand into the crook of Price’s elbow to keep us close. His hand slides onto mine and I look up at him as he lets out a small huff.

“You’re freezing.” He pulls us aside and shrugs off his coat while my eyes go wide. Gingerly, he wraps his jacket around my shoulders and tugs it snug around me while the warmth leftover from his body sinks into me like an embrace.

“John, it’s too cold for you to go without a coat.” I scold, but my voice lacks any sharpness or heat. All he has on now is an olive long-sleeved shirt that looks very good on him and jeans.

His eyes crinkle at the sides again as his fingers keep tugging lightly on his jacket, making sure it’s secure. “It’s alright, I run hot anyway.” He assures me and I frown slightly, really looking him over while my mind races. His cheeks are a little pink, but not his nose or ears. Flushed then, not from the chilly breeze winding around us.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But only because I run cold and the shop isn’t far from here.” My hand wraps back around his elbow and I notice how hot his skin is, even through the fabric of his shirt.

Price chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.” His hand automatically slides back over mine as we start walking again. The feeling of his calluses against my skin makes my brain short-circuit and I falter in my inspection of him. I realize with a start that this is the first time we’ve really been alone with no danger of interruption by a mission, a teammate, or anyone else. The thought makes my heart beat funnily again and I start rethinking this.

Maybe being alone with him like this…isn’t a good idea.

Taglist (hello, darlings, thank you for reading as always. <3 If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk!):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes

#call of duty #captain price #cod #fluff #angst #cod mw2 #gaz #ghost #price #price x reader #price x oc #price cod #soap #tf141 #mw2 #price fluff #captain price fluff #Simon Ghost Riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #call of duty mw3 #mw3 #captain price x OC #ah we're catching feelings #Price definitely knows he has and is handling it...slowly #beyond the first 'oh shit' moment #he's now thinking things through tactically #or he'd like to think so #he's definitely not purposely touching you for no reason #and lingering

[teyums]

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. She f*cks you.”

Ao’nung headcanon (no use of yn!)

⚠️ All characters are age 18 or over in this story. I will not write Ao’nung in a suggestive manner unless he is aged up.

Wc: 1.2k

I myself haven’t seen anyone write Ao’nung as submissive so I was happy to. And personally, I think this fits him way more hehe. 🤭

includes: suggestive/strong language.

part two

• Because Ao’nung is such a dickhead and so headstrong all the time, I think its pretty damn obvious that it’s merely a tough front he puts on to throw any one off from finding out he’s submissive as hell, especially you. He’s actually a sucker for the woman he loves. This man literally WORSHIPS the ground you walk on and he lives for that shit. That big and bad act is simply a disguise to hide the fact that he’s actually a bitch boy. He would definitely listen to whatever you say and follow your directions to a T.

•He’s had women pine after him before but they quickly gave up because he’s so damn rude, leaving him with zero potential mates before you came along. No other na’vi woman was willing to put up with his attitude, or better yet, see right through that shit and squash it like you did. Or maybe no other woman had the power to. The mere thought of you was enough to get this man off, he was like putty in your hands; completely infatuated with you.

Something in your bones always told you that bully act was one big bluff. The first time Ao’nung hurt your feelings while you were dating, you denied his want to touch you for two whole days. When he expressed his disapproval of your decision, you made him get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or he wouldn’t be able to touch you for two weeks. Two weeks without touching you for Ao’nung would feel like two years. It’s not a surprise that he’s incredibly clingy and gets upset when he can’t be near you 24/7, so you knew exactly what to hold against him when he made you mad. Jeez, what a fuckin baby. Talk about mommy issues.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, will you forgive me?” He spoke softly and looked down at you with doe eyes, hoping to get off the hook and have this be over with. You stood in front of him and let out a dry laugh, arms crossed and expression unamused. Now he knew good and well you wouldn’t go that easy. Him being an entire foot taller than you didn’t phase you and he knew that. Some of the other men laughed when they would see a sight such as this. How is such a small, feeble woman controlling the olo’eyktan’s son like she’s his handler? What kind of spell did you put on him?

You stared up at Ao’nung through your long lashes, hard. Completely unwavered by his attempt at winning you over.

He sighed and reached for you, but before he could even brush a finger against your arm you swatted his hand away.

“You don’t get to touch.” You hissed, earning a whine and almost a frustrated stomp from the boy who seemed sooo tough.

God, you loved to see him squirm.

“Beg for it.” You demanded, your gaze mean and unfaltering. You didn’t feel bad, Ao’nung treated everyone else like this and you were simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he liked it anyway. The boy has a thing for dominant women, who would have guessed.

He sighed, looking around at the other na’vi strolling on the beach and cursing under his breath. “Please, please forgive me.” He spoke, sounding so much smaller than before, both in voice and confidence.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Is this what you call begging, Ao’nung? That’s pathetic, you know better. Do not waste my time.”

“Ugh… right now? Like, here? People will see me.” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck and spoke in a hushed tone so nobody around would hear what he was saying. He had an image to uphold, the tough son of the olo’eyktan who didn’t take shit from anybody and gave shit to everybody. If anyone saw you controlling him like this, he feared it would damage his “reputation”. Or more so his ego.

You didn’t care though, this shit turned you on. And no matter how much he complained about it, you knew it turned him on too. He would never hide the way he looked at you as if he wanted to pounce, and his body gave him up as if you had offered it a cash reward.

“Fine, three weeks.” You responded plainly and shrugged after upping his timeout, turning on your heels to walk until he grabbed your wrist and sunk down to his knees before your footing could even change in the sand.

“Wait, wait! Please, my love… I’m sorry” He apologized, genuinely this time. You could hear the desperation in his voice and it made your core tingle with need. He held your smaller sized hand in both of his much larger ones and pressed his lips against the back of it, smothering it with kisses incessantly and apologizing between each one.

Ao’nung was aware of what he had just been told, no touching. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed his hands on you every minute of the day, whether it be him kissing the back of your hand as if you were royalty or you playing in his hair while he dozed away on your chest. At this point, you had long forgiven him but seeing this big so called ‘bully’ down on his knees in front of you to earn back something so simple as the right to touch you, made you hot. You raised an eyebrow and lifted your chin at him, taking your hand back and placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso he hugged you tightly from below.

“Please princess, I will do anything… whatever you want. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just take me off punishment.” He whined desperately, the side of his face pressed just below your navel, his grip on you strong.

Feeling your breath quietly catch in your throat as you watched him, you re-centered yourself to stop your legs from trembling. Many thoughts passed through your mind and you felt your skin heating up with his face pressed up against your body. You hummed, trying to decide on one of many options and gently brushing your fingers back between the lines of scalp next to his braids.

“Anything I want?” You cooed, chewing on your bottom lip slightly and earning an instant nod from the boy who was at your complete disposal.

“Ao’nung, up.” You beckoned and used your hand to raise his chin, seeing him look up at you in admiration from below as he quickly rose back to his feet at your direction. Taking his hand, you eyed him up and down deviously while he became more and more impatient with every second that passed. The shadow on his loincloth looked much different than it did when this conversation had started. The fabric was beginning to stretch, becoming taut and hinting at his arousal. He witnessed hunger and desire cloud your eyes, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip and his eyes watching you feverishly while he waited on your next move.

“Come.” You giggled, turning around and pulling him along like a lost puppy. A sigh of relief left his lips and the goofiest smile painted its way onto his face. You could damn near see the hearts flying in a halo around this boy’s head, he was so lovestruck. His ears perked up and his stride looked drunken as he allowed you to drag him back to your tent, his eyes falling to your backside and exposing how eager he was to fulfill whatever promise he had made to you.

a/n: Alright I’m back in my groove now yall! This was so fun to write and it came to me so easily. I’m a sucker for obedient men who do as they’re told, what can I say. 🫠 I’m not sure how far in detail i’ll go when it comes to smut with ao’nung or neteyam (aged up ofc). I do know that I’ll probably get requests for multiple parts so If I write more you might see an increase in strong language or suggestive/m🅰️ture themes but I’ll have to see about that. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated. 💞

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@mcdonalds-playground

#avatar 2 #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung #avatar way of water #ao’nung x you #aonung #ao’nung x y/n #ao’nung smut #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung fanfic

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,001 (yeah, she's a beast!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria S9, post-Negan war, before the bridge Warnings: language (duh, it’s me), violence (no sexual violence), injuries to main character, blood, some kind of dark Saviors shit (not like line-up level dark but kinda fucked), mild angst, Protective!Daryl, hurt/comfort Summary: The war is over, but it isn't all peaches and cream. The Sanctuary struggles to function and Daryl and Y/N struggle with ghosts of their pasts after Rick asks them to take things over there. Deciding they've had enough, they decide to depart for Hilltop but Y/N stays behind for a couple days to help Carol get started taking over. The past comes back to rear its ugly head... A/N: This is an epilogue to the Sacrifice series, but you don't necessarily have to have read all 29 previous parts to appreciate it (though you def should!) [Spoilers (or reminders) for context start here -> -> -> The war is over, Y/N was once one of Negan's wives in order to protect her brother, she went back to Negan to break Daryl out of the Sanctuary, Daryl ends up shooting Negan to protect Y/N when a plan of theirs goes awry and the war ends, Y/N was also shot in the process but survived]

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl stood off to the side, watching the group of people gather around Rick, flooding the open space on the Sanctuary’s factory floor. You gently touched him on the arm and his blue eyes landed on your face. “Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I gotta. I can’t—we can’t stay here any longer. I dun want you here either. Bein’ in here, in these walls again, it feels like it’s slowly poisonin’ us…” He glanced at the fresh graffiti someone had sprayed on the wall. We’re still Negan. Saviors Save Us

Your hand slipped down his forearm and you laced your fingers with his. “I know. It’s the right decision.”

“Yeah,” he mused. “Ain’t sure Rick’s gonna agree though…”

“Rick isn’t the one here dealing with all these people, reliving everything every day. It’s too much,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” Just then, Rick finished talking to the gathered group and there was a smattering of applause and murmuring. You gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze as Rick wandered over. “Good luck,” you murmured.

Soon, various business that needed to be discussed was concluded and the already dim torch and lantern lights on the Sanctuary factory floor were all but put out. Daryl and Rick retreated up to the catwalk.

As they stood side-by-side, looking down at the shadowy, rundown building below them, Daryl sighed heavily and Rick could feel the tension between them. Rick broke the silence first. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

Daryl gulped and straightened up, looking his friend in the eye. “I don't wanna be the one leadin’ these people anymore.”

Rick’s expression was impassive. “Okay... Why?”

“Bein' here, behind these walls again... It just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been. And I’ve got Y/N to think about. After what happened to her in here—with him—”

Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Things happened to you in here too,” Rick said, perhaps realizing for the first time what he’d really asked of his friend, his brother…

“Yeah, well I care more about her than I care about myself. This is where her life was a livin’ fuckin’ nightmare. His wife…” he murmured under his breath. “She wasn’t his wife. She was his damn property. Her brother died here. He destroyed her group just like he destroyed ours. What d’ya think this place reminds both of us of?” He asked, turning sharp eyes to Rick. “Hmm? Did ya even think ‘bout that when ya asked me to come back here? Didya stop to think that ya might be askin’ us to relive some of the worst shit we’ve ever gone through?”

Rick hung his head for a moment, clasping his hands together. A wash of guilt and shame came over him. He hadn’t considered the full extent of it, no. But there was no one else to do the job and so he’d asked too much of Daryl, too much of you. “But you and Y/N have kept this place together. You’ve kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened,” he said.

Daryl shook his head and paced a small, agitated circle. “Man, s’gonna fail anyway. Nothin’ grows here. It's a damn factory, man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same. Nothin's changed,” Daryl argued.

“It's different now. We give what we give willingly,” Rick retorted.

“And how long's that gonna last? Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every drop of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more than a day's ride from one spot to another.”

“Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work,” Rick said, leaning forward on the rail again.

“Man, there ain't no ‘us’ anymore. Everyone's everywhere,” he pointed out. “I feel lucky that Y/N and I are even in the same damn place.” He let out another weighty sigh. “That small group we had back in the beginning... plus a few more of the people we picked up along the way, we could do anythin’. That was right. That’s what I know.” Daryl leaned forward beside Rick, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way.

“Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?” Rick asked. “You and Y/N?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie and the baby.”

“Well, you go, someone's got to take your place here. Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sending food, but not people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losing its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home.”

Daryl only let out a small huff.

“We're not together because things have changed,” Rick said again.

Daryl stiffened. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. His blue eyes turned to Rick again and they were intense. “The thing is, you changed ‘em, Rick.” The tension felt hot and pulsating in the air like liquid mercury. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I get it.” And then Daryl took his leave.

On the staircase, Carol backed away as quietly as she could, only to be startled by your voice softly behind her. “Well, that didn’t go great,” you whispered.

Carol turned to face you, her face drawn. “Daryl is right though. Rick shouldn’t have asked that of the two of you after—after everything you went through here. And he should have known Daryl would have a hard time saying no to him.”

You nodded and straightened up, stepping toward her. “Rick’s his brother,” you agreed. “And there really was no one else. But Daryl’s right. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s—it’s wearing him thin.”

“And you?” Carol asked, worried.

You gave her a tight smile and shrugged. But when you spoke again your voice broke. “I’d almost rather be anywhere else…”

Carol nodded knowingly and then grabbed you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. her mind drifted back to her own abuse at the hands of Ed and she felt a swell of affection for you and for Daryl, for both of you taking this on at all after everything… When she pulled back, she cleared her throat, pushing her emotion away. “I’ll—I’ll take over here a while. You and Daryl need to get out. I want to help.”

“Carol—”

“Don’t argue with me. My mind’s made up,” she said firmly.

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” you said. “I’m—I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” you said. “Make him understand.”

Carol nodded. “I’ll check on Daryl. Let him know what I’m thinking.”

“Okay. Good idea… Hey—Carol. This is—what you’re doing to help, it’s huge for us. So, thank you.”

She gave you a warm smile and you passed her on your way up the stairs to find Rick. He was still leaning heavily on the railing, clearly in deep thought over his discussion with Daryl. But he turned at the sound of your steps on the metal catwalk and straightened up when he saw you.

“Hey,” you greeted him stopping beside him and also looking down over the factory floor. No one was milling around anymore. Most people had drifted away to bed. “You okay?” you asked, giving him a knowing, sideways glance.

Rick laughed a little wryly and nodded. “Yeah… Just—tryin’ to figure out if and where I went wrong,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Things I’d do differently now…”

You nodded. “You have a lot of weight on your shoulders. Daryl knows that.”

Rick met your eyes again, clearly realizing you’d overhead their conversation somehow.

You straightened up and tilted your head toward the hallway down the catwalk. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Rick followed you as you stopped to grab a lantern and then led him down the hallway. This part of the building was mostly empty these days, except for a few people who had carved out some private spaces for themselves. The warm orange glow flickered past many doors and other halls before you turned right and came partially down the next corridor. The nauseous feeling and the heavy pit in your stomach grew as you walked, and before you knew it, your hand was trembling slightly holding the lantern. This place was full of ghosts.

Rick looked at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. The tremble in your hand translated to a shakiness in the shadows cast by the light on the walls and it was easy to see.

“We’re almost there,” you said softly.

You walked in further silence for only another half a minute before you stopped in front of a gaping dark space in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. Rick gave you a questioning look and you lifted the lantern to illuminate it. The floor was filthy with layers of smeared dirt and who-knows what else. “This is where they held us. Me, when my brother and I were captured, and Negan singled me out from my group. And Daryl after the line-up with Alexandria.”

Rick stared at the dirty, dingy space and he could almost see Daryl huddled there in his mind’s eye, wearing that filthy sweatshirt. His brow furrowed and his face contorted.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your head felt a bit light and foggy. “I—I had the doors that used to be on the cells removed, because—I just couldn’t stand the sight of them closed up like that. I kept—kept imagining Daryl was still in there every time I had to walk past. Or that somehow, I was going to end up back in there.” You glanced over at Rick who was staring straight into the darkness. He watched as you raised your free hand to rub at your bad shoulder, the one Negan’s bullet had pierced. “They took all his clothes at first. Left him in there naked. Cold. Shot. Hungry. Wondering what happened to the rest of you. And the thirst… Then, Dwight humiliated him and they fed him dog food and blasted music to keep him awake. The same song, over and over. Then, they made him work outside in the heat and humidity in that filthy sweatsuit, chaining walkers to the fence for Negan or doing whatever awful chores they could invent. He had to clean up after Negan punished someone, mopping up shit or piss or worse… Dwight made him look at pictures of—of what happened to Glenn and Abraham.” Tears burned in your eyes and Rick’s shut and he dropped his head.

He lifted a hand to wave you off. “I—I understand,” he said in a low voice, his heart breaking. He’d been careless to ask Daryl to come here, too focused on his beautiful dream in the memory of Carl to realize what this would do to you and to Daryl.

“He didn’t want to say no to you when you asked him to come back here. You’re like a brother to him. He didn’t want to let you down even though—it’s literally the last place either of us wants to be.”

Rick sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t have an excuse… I—I shouldn’t have asked it. Of either of you… I just—I was tryin’ to make this all work.”

You nodded. “I know. So does Daryl. But that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been… We’ve both been reliving our trauma having to be back here. And we’ve hit our limit. That’s all.”

Rick met your eyes again. You hadn’t even talked about yourself, about what you’d been through here in the cell and with Negan after, not really. You’d mainly focused on Daryl. But Rick could guess well enough what it would have been like for you being one of Negan’s wives and living in that constant fear for your brother and yourself, what you’d had to subject yourself to.

He glanced again at that dark space in the wall. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Carol said she’ll take over here for a while,” you said, turning away from the cell and starting back the way you came.

Rick looked surprised but nodded, walking along beside you.

“I’ll—I’ll stay a couple days to get her going here and up to speed. And then I’ll go meet Daryl in Hilltop.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded. “It’ll have to work for now. But I can’t help thinking it’s a patch on the issue and not a fix.”

You laughed wryly again. “Aren’t most things these days? Rick, Daryl wasn’t wrong about The Sanctuary. It’s a resource sink. It doesn’t produce anything. You’re still going to have to square with that one day. I get what you have been trying to do, making peace with the rest of The Saviors, and not all of them are guilty of the awful things that happened during the war. But things are still festering here under the surface.”

Rick looked over at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, about ready to part ways with him on the catwalk again. “You saw the graffiti. Negan might be dead but for some of them, it’s not over.” You gave him one last look. “Daryl and I know you have a lot on your plate, but it’s time for us to get the hell outta here. If we don’t… this place will consume us. We can’t move away from what happened while we’re here. It’s like—it’s like having it shoved down our throats every day.”

You took your leave from Rick then, leaving him again in deep thought. You knew where you could find Daryl, at a spot outside he liked to go where most people wouldn’t be able to disturb him. It happened to be someplace the two of you sometimes went to watch the stars. When you got there, stepping just one foot outside the building, you had to smile to yourself. Daryl and Carol were just sitting together, side-by-side, enjoying a moment after being apart for so long. You decided to leave them to it.

You made your way back to the room you and Daryl had claimed together in a different part of The Sanctuary. You hastily changed your clothes and got ready for bed, knowing he’d come find you there when he was ready. And it wasn’t long before he did, coming in to see you already cozied up in the bed you shared, reading a worn paperback.

You smiled as he came in. “Hi,” you said.

He stopped in the doorway and took you in, giving you a small smile back. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Daryl drawled, sinking down beside you on the mattress. “I was out sittin’ with Carol.”

“It’s alright. I know you were. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you said, reaching for a strand of his wavy hair and running your fingers down it gently. “You haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling off his boots. “Get this. Ezekiel asked her to marry him,” he said, giving you a conspiratorial look.

You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand. “Oh my God!” you burst out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Well? What did she say?!”

“Ah… She ain’t ready yet,” Daryl explained.

“Wow.” You thought of Carol and Ezekiel together after the close call at the museum. They were good for each other. “Maybe someday?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm.” His hand came to rest on the graceful curve of your neck. It was cool from the nighttime air. He leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling back just slightly to study the colors in your irises. “Listen—I told Rick—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted him gently. “I could hear the two of you. And Carol talked to me too. She’s gonna take over here for a while.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. So, we can go. We dun have to be here anymore. Figured we can head to Hilltop tomorrow. Check on Maggie and Hershel.”

You nodded and then ducked your eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna stay here with Carol for just a couple more days. Help her get started and settled. Then I can meet you. I’ll take one of the horses.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. You could see that he was getting ready to argue.

“It’s just a few more days,” you whispered, gently grabbing onto the front of his vest. “It’s the least I can do since she’s doing this for us, leaving her family and world in The Kingdom.”

Daryl’s stomach churned a little, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. “She’ll have Eugene,” he pointed out.

“Barely. He and Rosita are heading to Oceanside next to get the fishery going.”

Daryl sighed heavily and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. He was chewing on his bottom lip. You knelt behind him and draped yourself against his back, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the curtain of his wavy hair, breathing him in and leaving a kiss on his neck. “It’s just a couple days,” you said again.

He gulped. He didn’t know why, but there was a pit in his stomach. “I dunno…” he mused aloud. “I dun like ya bein’ here without me. Here of all damn places.” His mind went back to that graffiti sprayed on the wall.

“I know. I don’t either. But I want to help Carol as a thank you. And then I’ll come straight to Hilltop.” You moved around to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “Hey—Look at me,” you urged him. “I can handle myself. Or did you forget?” you teased him, bumping into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know ya can handle yerself. It ain’t that… Somethin’ just—I dunno. Somethin’ dun feel righ’.”

You sighed and nodded knowingly. “It’s never felt right being here.”

“Yeah… maybe tha’s just it. I dunno,” he said finally, but you noted that he still looked slightly troubled. It had been a long day, and his talk with Rick was intense. He stood up and started getting ready to climb in bed with you. You watched the muscles in his back ripple, crisscrossed by his scars, as he pulled off his shirt. You crawled back beneath the sheets and waited until he slipped in beside you.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly to you as he settled into his pillow. You moved into him immediately and he pulled you against him. You tangled your legs with his and gazed into his bright blue eyes. He draped an arm over you and his hand moved to find the hem of your t-shirt before slipping underneath it and pressing against your bare skin, tracing absent patterns on your side, your hip, your back. Daryl leaned in and kissed you, one that was deep and full of wanting.

You felt a pooling of heat expanding in your chest as his lips moved to your neck. Daryl listened to your breathing hitch as he kissed your pulse point and grazed the shell of your ear. His hands wandered over the shape of you beneath the draping of your shirt. In no time, the two of you were completely lost in each other, melting into sensations and quiet gasps of pleasure, bounding hearts and heaving chests, skin on skin. Daryl’s fingers laced between yours, his other hand firm on your hip. Then, after you both reached your blissful highs, you fell asleep in his arms and neither of you woke until the sun was coming up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You walked with Daryl to his bike and stood beside him as he strapped down his gear, giving him a smile when he looked up at you again.

“Are ya sure ‘bout this? Ya dun have to stay. Carol will be fine,” he said in a low voice. That pit in his stomach had returned almost immediately when he awoke and thought about separating from you.

You gently rested your hands on his sides, stepping in close. “Everything is going to be fine. Go help Maggie. Check on her and Hershel. I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

He looked worried, but nodded. “S’yer call. Two days,” he drawled.

You nodded. “Two days. I promise.”

“Alrigh’…” He leaned in and kissed you deeply, clasping your face and pressing his other hand into the small of your back to pull your body flush against his. You kissed him back heatedly and hungrily and sighed when you broke apart.

“Miss ya already,” he said, breaking contact with you and getting ready to climb onto his bike.

“Same,” you agreed, giving him a tight smile. “Love you,” you added, waiting until the last moment of separating to unlace your fingers from his.

He nodded and studied you, drinking in the view. “You too.”

Then, in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust he was on his way. You didn’t see him glance back at you over his shoulder before he completely lost sight of The Sanctuary.

You found Carol already on the factory floor standing with Eugene, looking over whatever list of action items were on his clipboard that day. You were absently rubbing your bad shoulder as you came up. It had been aching since the day before. Had revisiting the cell stirred things up? Probably. Carol noticed immediately.

“You okay? Shoulder bothering you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Just a little. The old war wound acting up a bit,” you said with a wry laugh.

Eugene looked up from his clipboard. “I could potentially formulate a topical balm that may relieve some of your chronic pain symptoms, though most ingredients would not sufficiently penetrate the muscle in order to reach the origin of—”

You cut him off with a smile and a laugh. “It’s okay, Eugene. I’m fine. It’s not too bad. What do we need to tackle today?”

The three of you chatted briefly about what needed to be done urgently and then each picked your tasks to start with. Several hours later, you were nearly done trying to treat the small number of plants that were still surviving in the raised garden beds for some kind of insect pest when you were interrupted.

You turned at the sound of footsteps to see one of the Sanctuary residents approaching. You stood and dusted the soil from your gloves. “Hi. What’s up?”

“The guys getting that scrap metal from the upper floors found a water leak. Can you come take a look at it? We might be able to fix it, but we’d probably have to shut the water off completely for a while.”

You sighed heavily and pulled off your gloves. “Always something new, isn’t it?” you said dryly. “Yeah, I’ll come take a look now. Lead the way.”

You passed through the factory floor, noting that the graffiti discovered the day before had been freshly painted over as Daryl had demanded. Carol and Eugene were bent over a table in deep discussion over some new plan. Your stomach flipped as it always did as you passed the oven where Negan used to heat his iron or branding rods. You turned your eyes away.

Soon you were on the upper floors, walking through the dim hallways. It always felt eerily quiet up there. The resident you were following pointed ahead to the next doorway and then stopped to grab some work gloves from a pile of gear set in the hallway. You passed him and stopped in the doorway, expecting to see the group of other people working, but the room was empty. And there was no sign of a water leak. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “Hey, are you sure this is—”

And then everything went black.

Carol was walking somewhat aimlessly back and forth across the factory floor, weaving through the supplies and little bunched groups of people. She craned her neck trying to see if she could spot you anywhere. The two of you had planned to meet for the evening meal after everyone was done for the day but Carol was suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen you since that morning.

Her stomach began to churn. She bolted toward outside where evening was beginning to fall. The garden beds cast long, deep shadows between them, but she didn’t find you crouched among them. The final place she checked was the room you shared with Daryl, now mainly bare of your items since the two of you had begun packing your belongings to leave. Daryl had already taken his few things away on his bike.

There was no sign of you.

Her heart started to pound. She’d questioned everyone she could think of as to your whereabouts. Where could you possibly be? An anxious thought flitted into her mind. Her stomach tightened into a fist. It wasn’t like you not to arrive somewhere you said you would…

The last thing to do was to search the rarely used upper floors. She knew a crew had been working up there earlier in the day, collecting and hauling scrap metal to be reused to patch the roof and fences. Perhaps something had come up and you were still up there assisting with a problem.

Her boots made a lonely, echoing sound as she rushed around corner after corner. There was a weighty silence and the farther up she wandered, the sicker she felt. Something was seriously wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She called your name out but it strangely didn’t seem to pierce the thick vapor of silence in front of her. Every step increased her heart rate and poured adrenaline into her bloodstream. She felt almost shaky as she loosened her knife in its sheath. Just in case, she thought. In case of what?

Another minute or two passed as she searched. Each moment felt excruciatingly long. And then all of a sudden, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God. Y/N!” Carol bolted toward the crumpled form halfway down the hall in front of her. “Oh, God…” The front of your shirt was soaked with blood and you were lying on the cold floor unconscious. Your face was bruised and swollen. There were cuts and smears of blood on your skin. But what held her attention horrifically was that whoever had done this to you had taken a knife and began to carve a word into your chest, just below your collar bone. SA and part of a V. Carol didn’t need to guess what they’d intended to spell. They were making a gruesome point. Her hands shook as they hovered over you for a moment. She said your name again and then gently clasped your face and gripped your arm. She jostled you a little. “Wake up. It’s Carol! Please, wake up!”

You began to stir a little and a grimace contorted your features.

“Oh, thank God,” Carol sighed, hanging her head in relief for a very brief moment before the nausea seemed to rise into her throat again at your condition. “Y/N? Open your eyes, hun!”

You let out a small pained noise and then your eyes did open blearily. You were immediately trying to sit up, pushing yourself up on the palms of your hands but your head felt split in two and your muscles felt rubbery and weak. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“Whoa—okay. Easy! Take it easy!”

You reached up and touched the back of your head. It was swollen with a lump and tender and your fingers came away slightly sticky. You looked down at them and registered the deep color of drying blood. Your chest burned. You looked down to see that the whole front of your shirt was stained crimson. Your body ached and panged with sharp pains. You could feel your heartbeat in your face.

“Is anything broken? Can you stand up?” Carol asked, her brow heavy over her eyes, but the light inside frantic and quickly turning furious.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” you said softly. Your jaw ached. You gave it an exploratory wiggle left and right and immediately regretted it. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You winced again. “What the fuck?” you murmured. “I mean what the ever-loving, royal fuck?” you growled. The hot rage welling up in you was pushing some of the pain back.

“Let’s just get you up and off the floor, okay? Slowly.” Carol helped you to your feet. Your head swam and you squeezed your eyes shut, not letting go of her hands for a long moment until you felt steadier. Her expression said enough about what you must look like… “What happened? Do you know who did this to you?” she asked.

You shook your head a little, absently pressing a hand to the burning sensation on your chest, but you stopped as the burn surged when your palm landed flush on your skin. You took in a sharp intake of breath through your teeth. “No. Well—I saw one of them… they lured me up here. Told me there was a water leak they found while doing the scrapping and—and then someone hit me on the head from behind and I was knocked out. But I don’t know why. I mean, why me?”

Carol’s expression was taught. Anger swirled in her eyes. She knew exactly why. You couldn’t see it yet, but the word was partially carved into your chest. That graffiti on the wall out on the factory floor was just the tip of the iceberg. Things were rotting here just under the surface, and since you’d once been Negan’s wife, she imagined you were a perfect target for those who wanted to make a point. “Let me see the back of your head,” she said. There was a small split in the skin where you’d been struck, your hair stained rusty red, but she didn’t think you’d need stitches there and she was extremely relieved that it wasn’t worse... not much anyone could do from something like a skull fracture in the apocalypse. She sighed heavily as another flame of rage wicked upwards in her chest. “Okay… Let’s get you back to your room. Hold onto my arm. Can you make it?”

You nodded, gripping her to steady yourself on your shaky legs, and allowed her to lead you away. You glanced back over your shoulder and were sickened to see the smears of your blood shockingly deep red on the tile behind you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Carol had you sitting on the edge of your bed and she set down a first aid kit beside you. You were looking up at her from behind a wall of swelling and bruising on your face. You tenderly wiggled your jaw again, testing opening and closing your mouth. It felt ready to lock up. She could tell from the way you’d moved on the walk back and how you were slumped slightly forward now that there was probably substantial bruising beneath your clothes that she couldn’t see. Your movements were tentative and cautious.

You hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. You were afraid to. The pain was bad enough. The fogginess in your head was bad enough. You were worried if you saw the results of the beating, it would only make it worse, more real.

Carol began unpacking supplies. “Tell me everything you remember,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “Not much. Like I said, I was out working in the raised garden beds and somebody came up to me.”

“Who?” Carol pressed you. “If you don’t know their name, what did they look like?”

“Uhh… his name starts with a ‘G’ I think… Give me a second.” You filed through names in your head until you got the right one. “Graham. I think that’s it… He’s tall. Long black hair past his shoulders.”

“Okay,” Carol nodded, opening an alcohol swab. “What did he say exactly?”

“He asked if I could come look at a leak they found while they were moving all the scrap metal. He said they thought they could fix it but they’d have to turn the water off. I went to see and I was barely in the doorway of the room he pointed out. There wasn’t a water leak. I was just standing there, about to say something and—something hit the back of my head. I don’t really remember anything after that. Some foggy pain maybe but… mostly nothing.”

“Do you think there were others waiting up there? Or could it have just been him?” Carol asked, dabbing at a wound on the side of your face. You shut your eyes from the fumes of the alcohol. She was starting to worry about just how many traitors could be in the walls.

“There was at least one other person. When I got hit, I was looking back at him ten feet away from me down the hall.”

Carol sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes drifted down to the cruelly carved letters on your chest. Your chin tilted down as you tried to look but her hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Hold on,” she said. Her face contorted with emotion she was trying to hold back. “Better you see this now. I’m so sorry.”

You gave her a perplexed look. You knew you were beat up but what was she—

Carol grabbed the small mirror off the little sink in the corner and held it up so you could see yourself for the first time. Initially, all you saw was the swelling and bruising on your face but then your breath caught in your throat. S-A- and part of a V, cut into your skin. The cuts were deep and she had already had to apply some butterfly bandages to hold certain spots closed. No wonder your skin had burned and stung there since you came back to consciousness.

You felt like you were about to be sick and Carol must have seen you pale because she hastily put down the mirror and gripped your shoulders again as if she was afraid you were going to faint. “Whoa. Deep breaths.”

Your eyes shut and you did your best to swallow down the nausea. “What the fuck,” you muttered, reeling. You blinked away angry tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then I think I have some of my special ointment in my bag. If you apply it at least once a day it’ll minimize any scarring…”

You let out a wry laugh. “Minimize,” you repeated. “But I’ll still have half of ‘Saviors’ carved into me for the rest of my life.” Tears burned in your eyes again. It wasn’t bad enough what you had gone through with Negan, with his men, with the war—now this? Would it ever be over?

Carol winced. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea things were this bad here.”

You sniffled and mopped gently at the tears that had broken out onto your cheeks. “I knew they were pretty bad but—can’t say I saw anything like this coming.”

“Well, who could? It’s—horrific.” She gave you a sympathetic look and then surprised you by pulling you gently into a hug for a long moment. Her eyes were teary now too when she pulled back, but she pulled herself together quickly. Back to business, she returned to the first aid kit and continued her ministrations. Your mind was endlessly turning.

“I wonder why they didn’t finish,” you suddenly said softly.

“Mmm,” Carol hummed, nodding, tossing down another soiled gauze pad and reaching for a new one. “They must have gotten interrupted. Maybe heard someone in that part of the building.”

Your eyes lifted and met hers. She paused at the expression on your face. “Do you think they were going to kill me? Leave me there with—with this cut into me to make a statement?”

Carol’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat. Your question had been asked matter-of-factly and Carol was suddenly reminded of all you had gone through in the war and even before any of them had met you, when you’d just been a stranger with a mysterious backstory. “But obviously they knew they couldn’t take you in a fair fight. Fucking cowards,” she growled. “Had to ambush you to even have a chance.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, your eyes dropping to your hands. “They sure beat the shit out of me though,” you mused aloud. “It’s probably good Daryl isn’t here. He’d lose it,” you said, fiddling with another gauze pad which Carol took out of your hands and taped down over the now cleaned cuts below your collarbone.

She cleared her throat. “About that…”

You met her blue eyes again. “You radioed him? He’s probably way out of range by now. He’s probably already in Hilltop,” you said.

“Rosita rode out on the quad immediately to get within range. Eugene is doing a headcount as we speak to see who, if anyone, is missing…”

Another wry laugh left you and you nodded. “That’s why you took so long. And I just thought you couldn’t find the damn kit,” you said, shooting her a look, tears burning in your eyes. “Daryl is gonna go on a rampage,” you said softly.

Carol nodded. “Probably. But he should be here with you. And if I didn’t radio him, I’d be on the receiving end of that rampage. And I think we should focus it on the assholes that did this to you instead.”

You nodded and a sob tried to burst out of you. You suppressed it as best you could and it came out as a hitched breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little strained.

Carol quickly grabbed you into a hug again. “Everything is going to be okay. Daryl will be here soon and we will figure this out.”

You hugged her back and nodded into her shoulder, grateful again for your found family.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was there in an hour, stomping through The Sanctuary with Eugene at his heels, mostly ignoring the stream of words out of the mullet-headed Texan’s mouth. Rosita finally grabbed Eugene’s arm and stopped him, clearly realizing Daryl wasn’t hearing a word of it, didn’t give a shit about anything but going to see you. He was at the door of the little room the two of you had shared before anyone could come to tell you he’d arrived.

Daryl froze and made himself knock lightly, rather than barely in. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. His stomach turned as he waited to hear your voice on the other side, inviting him in. “S’me,” he drawled, the jittery feeling that permeated his body translating to an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice.

You sat up in bed. “Come in,” you said hurriedly, already feeling the tears burning in your eyes again. You were in clean clothes now and thoroughly patched up thanks to Carol, but that wasn’t going to change how rough you looked and how hard it was going to be for Daryl to see it.

The door opened slowly, measuredly, and he took shape in the doorway. He froze for only a split second as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the swelling and already deep purple bruises. Then he rushed to you and hugged you in against him gently. That was all it took for you to go to pieces against him, clinging to his leather jacket. “Jesus, what the hell did they do to ya? ‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’ta left ya. ‘M so sorry, babe. I shoulda been here,” he said into your hair, kissing you on the top of the head, holding you gently so he wouldn’t hurt you but firmly so you knew you were safe.

You sniffled and mopped the tears from your cheeks as he clasped your face and brushed your hair back. “Don’t—don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” you said, looking up into his blue eyes. They were stormy and turbulent. “You couldn’t know…”

“Lemme see ya,” he said, looking you over. His heart ached as you showed him the bruising on your stomach and ribs. “Sit back. Rest,” he said, climbing into bed beside you where you were propped up against the headboard and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You tucked in against him. He left a kiss in your hair again.

“Did—did Rosita tell you what they—that—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me anything specific except that some assholes had hurt ya bad, beat ya up, and that I needed to get back here,” he said. “Tell me what?” His stomach churned around a hard knot. His mind began inventing all kinds of horrific scenarios immediately. What did you mean?

You could see him whirling and quickly tried to explain. “I was unconscious but—” Your hand landed on the gauze pad taped over the wounds below your collarbone. His eyes flitted down to it. “They used a knife and—” You couldn’t get any more words out so you simply lifted the bandage to show him, gingerly peeling back the medical tape and bandaging. Daryl froze completely. Every part of him stilled. He stared at the brutality someone had inflicted on you and hot rage boiled inside him. More tears leaked out onto your cheeks as you saw what it was doing to him to see that on you. You hastily covered it back up.

He softened again, coming back to himself, letting his anger flow away, and wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs. “Hey—it don’t matter to me what they—how they marked ya like that. Ya know that, right? Ya got every right to feel however ya feel ‘bout it. Ya do. But to me—” He shook his head. “It don’t matter, okay? I just see you. It’s all gonna be alrigh’.”

You collapsed into him again, finally letting yourself completely break down, wondering how the fuck you’d gotten so lucky as to find this man. He held you against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. He could feel the bump on the back of your head where they’d hit you. He could feel the swelling on your face and under your clothes, and he internally yelled at himself for leaving you behind, even if it was only supposed to be for a couple days, even though no one would have guessed that anything like this would happen, even though he knew how strong and capable you were. “‘M so sorry,” he murmured again. “I shouldn’t have left ya here… here of all places, with them.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m gonna track down every one of these assholes and put ‘em in the fuckin’ ground,” he growled.

You couldn’t stand him blaming himself and you pulled yourself together. “It’s not your fault, Daryl. And—maybe… maybe I should have known something like this could happen…”

His brow furrowed. “What do ya mean?” He took a beat, his heart seemingly suspended somewhere in a gaping space that had opened in his chest. “Did somethin’ happen before this?”

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes still glassy. “No. No, not exactly. Nothing happened. I mean, people have—said things to me before. Made comments. I just—”

Daryl frowned, his brow heavy over his eyes, casting them in a deep shadow. “Like what? What kinda comments?”

You sighed and turned to face him more fully. You rested your hands on his sides. “Just—little shitty things. Because of what I’d been here,” you explained. “As Negan’s wife…”

Daryl was boiling again inside with anger. “Ya weren’t ever his wife,” he said. “That word means somethin’ else.” Your fingers went to touch the wedding band on your ring finger, the one Daryl had made with his own hands and given to you.

“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly. “I just wrote them off and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be a big deal and I knew how upset you’d get. It just felt like shitty people being shitty at the time. Mostly…”

“Mostly,” he growled.

“I never thought anything like this would happen. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl sighed and ducked his head, running his hands gently up and down the soft bare skin on your arms, marred with bruises and abrasions. “Don’t apologize. Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I get why ya didn’t tell me… and yer righ’. I woulda beat the shit out of anybody sayin’ or doin’ anythin’ like that to ya. But tha’s my job. I wanna protect you.”

“I know,” you said. “We’ve just had so much on our plate here. I didn’t want to add something else. And I never thought—I didn’t think—” You grimaced as a wave of pain and dizziness hit you.

“I know. I know. Hey—it’s okay. We’ve talked ‘bout this enough. Ya need to rest. ‘M here now. S’okay.”

“I am really tired,” you agreed, shutting your eyes and waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

He clasped your face again, his eyes flickering from this injury to that, and then he kissed your swollen lips as gently as he could. You managed to give him an overwhelmed, somewhat sad smile which he returned. “C’mon. Let’s lay down.”

Daryl helped you settle down on the mattress and fitted himself beside you. You tucked yourself against his body, breathed in his smell and safety, and shut your eyes. His fingers brushed through your hair, reassuring and grounding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl was awake early while you slept on. He carefully, ever so slowly slipped out of bed and pulled a change of clothes on. He snuck out and headed to find Carol, Eugene, and Rosita.

He spotted Eugene first and nudged his head up in a nod as a greeting. “Well, what d’ya got to tell me?” Daryl asked hurriedly.

“We were short five of the former Saviors at the headcount last night, and five again this mornin’. Carol and Rosita have been questionin’ people all night. We don’t think anyone here knew anything about it. They weren’t exactly gentle with their lines of inquiry.”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “Alrigh’. As I thought then... Cowards took off right afterwards.”

“Indeed. I suspect they knew Justice’s hammer would fall hard and swift on them once their atrocious deed was discovered,” Eugene agreed. “No way to know now where they’re headed.”

Daryl sighed. “Hopefully righ’ into a fuckin’ herd of walkers,” he drawled. “Alrigh’. Well, we need to send out runners to get word out to The Kingdom and Alexandria so ev’rybody can watch out for those pieces of shit... Y/N and I will take news to Hilltop today, and keep our eyes open for any sign of ‘em on the way. If I get sight of ‘em, I’mma strangle ‘em with my bare fuckin’ hands…” He sighed again, even more heavily this time. “Thanks. For everythin’ ya’ll did last night.”

“Of course,” Eugene said sincerely. “How is her condition today?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “She’s still asleep. She was exhausted. ‘M gonna get back up there. I dun want her wakin’ up here alone and ‘m still afraid there could be somebody in here—” he hesitated to speak his fear lest it become real. “She’ll be alrigh’. She’s tough. But she was shaken up pretty good and I can’t believe how bad they beat her up... and what they did,” he said vaguely, referring to the letterds on your skin. “But she’ll be okay.” He patted Eugene on the shoulder gratefully and headed straight back to you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

With hasty goodbyes and thank you’s to your close, chosen family, still at The Sanctuary you departed for Hilltop on the back of Daryl’s bike. You held extra tightly to him the whole way, and often his right hand left the handlebars to smooth over yours for a moment. The Sanctuary shrank smaller and smaller behind you and then disappeared into a cloud of dust. Neither of you knew it at the time, but you’d never come to that place again while it was a semi-functional community. It would be only ruins when you sheltered there during the storm eight years after the war.

On arriving at Hilltop, Maggie threw her arms around you and tears of shock filled her eyes when she saw your bruised and swollen face. Enid insisted on checking you over again, but gave you the all clear after much expressed anger and concern. Maggie quickly carved out a space for you and Daryl to stay, close to the room she shared with baby Hershel in the big house up on the hill.

Your body had stiffened overnight and on the bike ride. Every movement caused aches and pains to shoot through you and Daryl was attentive and worried as you settled into your new home. When you settled into bed at first, Daryl kissed every part of you where he could see a bruise or injury. His fingers were light and gentle on your skin, and you were amazed as you always were that he could be so soft when he was so strong. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon and you were again laying side by side, your head tucked up under his chin, listening to the whoosh of air in his lungs and his steady heartbeat.

“I had an idea,” you said softly, breaking a long but comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Maybe when I’m all healed up, if—if it scars bad, I can get someone to do a tattoo over it to cover it up.”

Daryl smiled. You were already thinking ahead to the future, thinking of solutions. That was a good sign. He hugged you more tightly against him. “What would ya get?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty… to cover up something so ugly,” you mused aloud. “Like, there are these flowers that only bloom once in their lifetime and it can take decades to happen.”

“Nah, tha’s no good,” Daryl said quickly.

“What? Why?” you asked, looking up at him with surprise from beneath your lashes.

“It don’t fit ya. Yer bloomin’ all the time. Every day. Ya always have been, even when ya couldn’t see it,” he drawled. He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead.

You smiled at him sleepily.

“Was that too cheesy?” he asked with a gruff laugh.

“No. It was just the right amount,” you said. “Okay… maybe I’ll just get ‘Property of Daryl Dixon’,” you joked.

“No good. Ya ain’t nobody’s property. Ya belong only to yerself. ‘M just lucky that you share with me,” he said, his fingertips tracing vague shapes on the bare skin of your hip, exposed from the way your shirt had draped.

You sighed and nuzzled in against his neck. “I was only kidding,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I know. But it’s true.”

You yawned. “Maybe. But I do also belong to you, by my choice. I have since that night you fell through that rotten floor,” you said with a laugh. Daryl’s chest moved as he joined you with a low chuckle. In another minute, you were asleep. Daryl whispered ‘I love you’ into your hair, and shut his eyes too.

He meant what he’d said—he’d find whoever had hurt you and end them if he could, but after that, he wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to dim another day. He’d walk with you forward, facing the sun in the same way you’d been doing together since the end of the war. And he hoped this time all of it, all the Saviors, The Sanctuary, the fear and pain, was really behind both of you.

#sacrifice #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfic

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧

Few dared to cross such a dangerous man — not when they would end up on the wrong end of the barrel of Bucky’s gun, but not you. You were the one that toed the line, broke it, and it was just what he needed.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ��� Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Fluff, Bucky is angry and grumpy, implied spice

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✰ I love them. That's all I gotta say for myself.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✰ The War by SYML

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer  ჻჻჻ Week 10 — Massage — Masterlist

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The air of the clubhouse was full of tension – charged with electricity, and it felt as though if you made the wrong move, a fuse would ignite, and it would all blow to the high heavens. 

It made you wonder why you decided it was a good idea to work from ‘home’ that day – especially since you couldn’t focus for more than five minutes at a time with the shouts coming from behind the closed doors of Church.

“Calm down, Buck,” Steve’s voice soothed, muffled but strong. “We’re not gettin’ anywhere if we lose our heads.”

There were some indistinct words exchanged, and then the door suddenly flew open to reveal the imposing figure of Steve. A slam echoed as the door banged against the wall.

“Rogers, I swear to fuck-“

“Sweets,” Steve implored, “please get in there and calm Buck down.” His face was drawn, taut with strain and stress — whatever the meeting had been about, it obviously wasn’t going to plan. “The bastard is gettin’ on my last nerve.”

“I’ll fuckin’ show you last nerve, you mother-“

Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wall, and you winced. He was pissed. “Okay,” you said softly, getting to your feet and abandoning your laptop and work sprawled over the table. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” Steve sighed. 

Your hand squeezed the blond’s shoulder as you passed, and you made your way into Church — the room long abandoned after Bucky’s outburst of rage. And no matter how much time passed as Bucky’s Queen, you still could not shake how your heart rate picked up when you approached those double doors. 

Angry grumbling could be heard over the clink of metal on wood, and you peered inside, hesitant but determined nonetheless. Bucky was at the head of the table, pacing back and forth while a deep scowl twisted his expression. A cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Catching sight of you, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Tell that fucker to get his ass back in here, or so help me-”

“Sit down.”

Bucky stopped his pacing and stared at you. “Sit down?”

“Yes,” you replied, pointing at his seat – the leather worn and cracked, but no less intimidating. “Sit down.”

“Sweets-”

“Don’t you ‘Sweets’ me, Bucky. Get your ass in that chair before I put it there,” you grit out, carefully keeping your voice as stern as you could make it. “Go on. Sit.”

The tension in the room crescendoed to unbearable. You were just about to take a step forward when Bucky’s shoulders lowered, and he sighed heavily. “Fine.”

You let out a quiet breath. The fact that Bucky did as he was told, albeit grudgingly, was a good sign – he wasn’t too far into his rage. “Thank you,” you said softly, closing the double doors before entering the room. “Did you want to talk about it, babe?”

“No.”

“Alright,” you replied, and you took Steve’s seat. “So, I bet your blood pressure is through the roof right now-” Bucky shot you a look, but you continued on. “And I can’t have that.”

Bucky took a heavy drag from his smoke and exhaled it through his nose. “What do you propose then, your highness?”

“Being smart isn’t doing you any favours, asshole,” you teased, and Bucky raised a brow. “I’m gonna take off your kutte, and then I am going to give you a back rub.”

“That so, sweetheart?” His words were teasing as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray. 

“Yep,” you chirped, “and you’re going to sit there and let me do it–Stevie needs you clear headed.”

Bucky sighed, sat back in his seat, and nodded once. With his silent permission, you stood from your seat and worked the heavy leather kutte off his shoulders, folding it neatly onto the wooden table by the gavel. You hummed a song quietly, the tune familiar and soft. Bucky’s hand rested over yours as you placed them on his broad shoulders – the black ink on his hands contrasting heavily against yours.

“Relax,” you breathed, and you kissed the back of his head. You started slow, hard circles with your thumbs that moved gradually from the top of his shoulders to his neck, then back down again. “Does it feel okay?”

“Mm, yeah,” Bucky hummed, his head lolling to the side slightly. “Love your hands, baby girl.”

You chuckled quietly and moved the pattern you were drawing on his shoulders down his back, feeling the taut muscles of his shoulder blades and upper back ripple under your fingertips. A sudden moan fell from Bucky’s lips when you applied pressure next to his spine, and you paused – that sound ingrained into your mind, and you were conditioned to react… “Don’ stop, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, “sorry, can’t help it.”

“It’s alright,” you soothed, “I’m just collecting myself, is all.”

Bucky laughed. “Later, doll–don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

The movements of your hands became steadier as the moments passed, and each brush over his once taut muscles made you smile. There was a noticeable difference in his attitude, and he was breathing slower, deeper in his state of relaxation. “How’re you doing?” you asked quietly.

A low hum was your only answer, and he rolled his shoulders to dislodge your hands. “You keep that up, and I’ll fall asleep,” he mumbled, and he cracked his neck. “That helped, baby, thank you.” He pulled you into a deep kiss, and you returned it in earnest, smiling against his lips. 

“You need your kutte back on,” you mused. Bucky nodded, and you grabbed the worn leather, still warm from Bucky’s residual body heat. “Let me.”

Bucky stood from his seat, and you slipped his kutte on, adjusting it until it sat comfortably on his shoulders. The proximity to his body while he was so relaxed made you preen quietly – having made the burden of Presidency easier to carry. His arms suddenly enveloped you, and you squeaked in surprise as he squeezed you tight. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied, pulling back to look at him. “Now, be nice to Stevie.”

“No promises,” Bucky laughed. “Send ‘im in.”

You stepped out of Bucky’s embrace and approached the closed doors. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Bucky nodded in reply as he sat at the head of the table once more. “I’ll get him to bring you a drink.”

Smiling, you opened the leftmost door and looked out into the bar – Steve was nursing a glass, and looked just as tired as he was before. “Stevie,” you called, and the blond looked up from his glass. “You’re good now; he’s calm.”

“‘Bout fuckin’ time, too,” Steve replied before throwing his drink back. “And fine, I’ll bring the bastard a drink.”

“I heard that, you fucker,” Bucky yelled from behind you, and you shook your head. 

Steve walked towards you, and you leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek. “Behave,” you said quietly, then continued in a louder voice, “both of you.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works

[rreskk]

Hello mother of Trevor smut!

Do you write for Michael? And if so... I am in dire need of Micheal fucking reader in front of Trevor (reader is dating Trevor) and reader moans Michaels name so Uncle T gets mad.

Thank you!! -Anon

A good old angsty- drama AND smutty fanfic??? Yes!

Summary: His best-friend made you feel way better... And he hated it.

TW: -Smut -Drug use

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Michael Townley (slight /Trevor Philips as well)

Word count: 2226

Back in the North Yankton days, it wasn’t uncommon for the boys to share girls for good sex. You’ve seen it yourself when chilling in their motel rooms. While you and Trevor would share smokes and watch crappy movies through this static TV, Michael (or Brad) would have this prostitute in the background, fucking her pussy stupid. They’d take turns as well.

It was hard to get used to considering you’ve never seen people so open and shameless about their sex addictions. Even Trevor’s sex-drive was a complete shock to you after every night of sex, he’d wake up horny still. You were constantly bouncing on his dick whenever he wasn’t hiding from authorities or doing God knows what with Mikey and Brad.

However, this one night had changed everything.

Trevor had brought you along to this fairly cheap, shitty motel room. It was in the middle of nowhere. Literally.

“Bro, I’m telling you,” Brad was in a middle of an argument with Trevor, “I’m looking at this fucking map and there’s no booze store or strip-joint nearby.”

You were holding both yours and Trevor’s rucksacks as they continued to bicker heatedly. It was a normal thing.

Michael had sat down beside you with a tired expression. He ogled you for a moment before smiling. Your relationship with Mikey was sweet and close. He always looked out for you in such ways that made you feel… Important. Although you loved Trevor, he didn’t have that “boyfriend material” to him. Unlike Michael. He was pure “husband material” from the way he’d help clean all your clothes, protect you from Trevor’s occasional tantrums, drive you places, steal you period products (etc…)

“You’re a fuckin’ prick!” You heard your boyfriend cry as he’d storm over and snatch his bag from your arms. He hurried through it, pulling out a stash of cocaine and stomping to the small bathroom.

Sometimes… Just sometimes you looked at Michael and wished he was your boyfriend instead.

And sometimes… You think he knows that.

“Great, he’s in a bad mood – “ The bathroom door slammed shut, “… Again.” Mikey muttered.

“He’s a fucking asshole!” Brad attempted to correct Michael’s vocabulary.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, [y/n]. You deserve better.”

You sighed. Michael was right.

“I’d get myself a proper man, if I were you.” Remarked Brad who kept his concentration on the small map provided by the motel.

 “He is nicer when we are alone.” You tried to comfort yourself.

“Really?”

“Yeah. We cuddle, watch movies together… And, uh… We do other things as well – “

“Have sex, yeah. We know,” Mikey exhaled, “Trevor tells us everything.”

“He does?” You felt your heart ache a little bit. Your nights alone together, you thought it was romantic and sentimental. Now you’re realising that he sees as nothing but a stress relief.

“Yes. Is date nights really just blowjobs and handjobs?” He’d ask.

Being honest was painful. When you nodded, it was basically telling Mikey and Brad that Trevor ain’t worth shit.

“I don’t suppose you know if he actually… Loves me, right?”

Michael was hesitant but kept his composure.

“He does love you. He just struggles with expressing it,” He’d tried to explain, “He does think of you a lot, trust me. He knows he ain’t the model boyfriend, but he can’t help it.”

“Right.”

“He’s a bit loco, [y/n].” Brad whistled.

“Listen, [y/n]… I know it’s hard being around him. I mean, I’ve known the dickhead for years and he’s always been pretty manic.” Michael was sitting close to you at this point.

“Well, yeah, he’s literally snorting coke right no – “

“Brad, shut up!” Mikey groaned, his hand hesitantly touching your thigh as he returned his attention to you.

“He’s emotionally unstable.” You’d whisper.

“Very…”

Silence overcame you both. Your eyes drifted to his hand-placements, finding yourself happy when he fondled your legs and sit as close as he could. When making eye-contact, you both smiled warmly.

“I still can’t believe that lucky bastard managed to charm you.” He’d whisper before leaning close, sight fixating on your lips.

You had the temptation for a while, now it was within your reach. The risk… He was only in the other room filling himself with every drug imaginable. You hoped if he was to see this, he’d be too high to see or function.

Bradley noticed the increased tension of you both and sucked in his lips. He decided – last minute – to turn his back and “pretend” he wasn’t aware of what was going on (a cowardice action to avoid confrontation since… He didn’t want to be the target of any fury).

Then he heard shifting on the other bed and cringed. Trevor’s totally going to kill Michael.

You were lying under him as he leaned closer before your lips touched. Your hands touched his shaved head, clasping his jacket, feeling his jaw when you both grew very indulged throughout the kiss.

Michael would continuously peer over his shoulder before you both began stripping clothes. He was anxious as well, you could tell. You didn’t want this to disturb his performance so you guided his lips against your neck and begged him to carry on. He was quick to react and made love to every inch of your exposed skin until you were a hopeless mess. 

“You don’t want him to hear…” Mikey murmured in your ear, his hands removing your shirt and bra.

“Guys, c’mon… If you’re gonna fuck, I ain’t gonna stay around!” You heard Bradley murmur as he stumbled out of the motel room.

“Good riddance.” Michael’s voice rumbled against your neck, his tongue leaving trails of his saliva, reaching your collarbone and lower.

No matter how good it felt, each moan shook with guilt. He was only in the other room, you boyfriend, well… Unconfirmed boyfriend (thanks to his possessiveness), and now you were getting freaky with his best friend.

“Oh, fuck – “ You’d struggle when he kissed down your stomach.

Then a deep ruckus occurred in the bathroom, the sound of things being dropped and whatnot. It was followed by a deep, slurred voice (after the digestion of cocaine).

“Baaaabbeeee!” Trevor called from behind the closed door, “Where’s my fuckin’… Lighter? It ain’t in my fuckin’ bag!”

Mikey froze and gazed up at you. He mouthed something but you were too busy panicking.

“[y/n]? Answer me, baby! I want to have my weed!”

“I- I think… I think it’s, uh…”

“Argh, I found it! It was in my fuckin’ hand.” Shouted Trevor as Michael breathed out in relief and continued kissing your tummy pouch and hips.

His lips reached your pantie lines and your hand itched, grabbing the back of his head for support. He’d grunt in response before pulling down your panties and looking up, waiting for your signal.

“What if he…” Your words trailed off when you stared into his blue eyes. It instantly melts you.

“[y/n], it’ll be okay.”

And with that, you nodded and lifted up your hips for him to confiscate your panties. Michael smiled warmly. He threw it aside and hovered over your naked body. He skipped the usual foreplay you were used to with Trevor. It was weird not having him suck your boobs, leave huge marks on your neck, make out until your lips were swollen.

It was refreshing… Yet when he pulled your legs up to line himself with your wet cunt, it was just hard to miss that extra loving.

“Ah, yes!” Your thoughts about Trevor were washed away when Michael pushed into your pussy. He caressed your thighs when thrusting in and out, holding your legs over his shoulders.

“There we go…” His words were comforting and soft, the opposite of him.

“Oh, God… It’s so good, Mikey! – “

You both were unaware of the bathroom door opening. Facing the bed, Trevor’s high-state quickly crashed down. He held the blunt in his mouth and stared at Michael, who was making you moan louder than he’s ever heard.

The betrayal, jealousy. He was ENRAGED.

“Fuck, fuck!” Your whimpers combined with Mikey’s grunts sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Trevor.

The shock he felt made it hard to speak. He just stood there, weak. He let the blunt drop from his mouth as he watched his best friend fuck his girl. Trevor ogled the way your body shook when being fucked. He watched you stare up at Michael with nothing but pure lust and admiration. The jealousy quickened after your moans only increased in pitch.

“Mikey!”

Deciding to make his awareness known, Trevor stepped closer to the bed and make eye-contact with you. You gasped and held your breasts, as if that helped the situation.

“Uh, yeah… Oh, fuck – what? Huh?” Michael noticed your shocked expression before he peered over his shoulder and saw the murderous glare from his best buddy, “Shit, Trevor, bro! – “

“The fuckin’ fuck! Are you fuckin’ my girl, Mikey? What… [y/n]? What the fuck is this!” He’d outrageously shout, eyes burning with Hell.  

“Trevor,” You breathed as Mikey continued to thrust despite being caught, “Please, Trevo – Ah! Michael! Yes!” Then he found your G-spot, ruining your chance of an explanation by pathetically moaning his best friends name.

“Sorry, Trevor.” He’d pant through the cycle of hitting your G-spot until you were both on the edge of a good orgasm.

Even though he was completely furious and psychotic, whenever Trevor watched you moan, it was arousing. He held his tongue. He developed a boner, raging like his anger. He wanted to yell, he wanted to punch Mikey, but most of all, he wanted in. He tried to ignore this fantasy by screaming insults at you both.

“YOU ARE BOTH JUDAS!”

Yet it toned down after he couldn’t contain himself. Michael, using his thumb, rubbed your clit as he thrusted deeper and deeper into your pussy. He worked hard to see you so beautifully shaken.

“Mikey! Ah! Yes!” You’d moan unconsciously.

Trevor leaned against the wall, pulling out his erection and rubbing it raw. His glare remained fixated on you. He jacked off to you being fucked stupid dumb. He pleasured himself dry, wishing he was in Michael’s place. The jealousy. He was in anguish knowing that you were receiving the best sex of your life.

“I fuckin’ hate you both.” Trevor growled from the wall, his hand beating his cock until it was bruised and swollen.

“I’M GONNA CUM, MIKEY!”

“I fuckin’… hate you…” Your boyfriends voice turned into harsh whispers as he was intensely motivated on jacking off.

“[y/n]… [y/n]…” Michael breathed and jerked his hips into your, crying out your name. His penis shivered and soon enough, you gasped as you climaxed, cum caking his dick that was begging for disclosure.

“AH! YES!”

He fucked you through the orgasm before pulling out and touching his tip, encouraging his semen to squirt and paint your tummy. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled. The climax, for Michael, looked much needed since he stumbled onto his knees and placed a hand on your breast, struggling to breathe.

“Mmm.” Trevor huffed when witnessing the hot-mess. He clawed his cock, even though it was burning with brutality. He whispered your name and when he made eye-contact with your guilty face, his mood grew more hostile and his masturbation got increasingly heavy.

Michael quickly stood up and tucked away his length, deciding that he had tortured his buddy enough. He gave you knowing glance, a signal to maybe… Get dressed and leave the room to give him some space.

“I thought we were done with sharing her. She’s my girl, now.” Trevor grunted at Mikey, his hand suffocating his cock.

“She needed some real love.”

“Fuck you, Mikey. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!”

“Sharing is caring…” Was the last thing he could say before a lamp was thrown his way.

You took that sign and dressed yourself, following Michael’s lead out towards the door before he called your name.

“[y/n]… Don’t fuckin’ leave. We ain’t finished here.”

“Trevor, I’m sorry, I really am – “

“Save it. Just stay here. I ain’t gonna let that cunt touch your pussy again, you hear me?” He hissed.

“I am sorry though.”

“Oh, yeah. You looked it.”

“Trevor – “

“I don’t do forgiveness. You can’t even earn that shit from me. But I’ll get my way.” Words barely made it out clear as he was close to his orgasm as well, masturbating with pure stamina due to the high drugs in his system.

You sighed, shame making you feel sick.

“C’mere…” He’d order.

You hesitantly walked over before he came all into his hands, moaning your name in the process. He made you watch as his dick squirted semen against his shaky palms.

“Yeess…” His groans were low-key, almost sounding angry itself.

Then he wiped all that cum onto your face with a sick grin. He rubbed every inch until you were covered.

“There we go… I feel a tiny bit better…”

It was so warm and sticky. You held back the urge to shiver considering it was overstimulating. Trevor then caressed your bottom lip before he walked past you, his shoulder brushing against yours. He walked out of the motel room in silence and left you to think about what you have done, and what is about to happen next.

#grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #trevor gta #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #michael de santa #michael de santa fanfiction #michael de santa x reader #gta michael #michael townley #michael townley/you #michael townley fanfiction #michael townley headcanons #michael townley/reader #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #requests #thank you!

[booburry]

Pivot Dieter Bravo x F!Reader one shot; NSFW 18+

Summary: Dieter hasn't been able to keep his eyes off you since the beginning of filming and, more recently, his hands. But when faced with something you had suspected but not truly understood the severity of, it left you two parted with tension high. After a particularly hard day on set, instead of going for his normal vices, Dieter decides to seek you out instead.

A/N: I honestly started writing this when I hadn't even finished the movie yet. I have a soft spot for troubled souls, especially tortured artists and that is just what I hyper fixated on with Dieter. Long time lurker of Mr. Pascal's work but recent embracer of his universe of characters...finding myself with a WIP for every character I consume content for. I know I am in trouble but I fully welcome the chaos.

Content: drug addiction, smut with emotions, pool time = sexy time, Dieter is a little bit of a dirty boy, dick suckin', pussy lickin' and some good ol' fuckin'.

Word count 3.7k

You continued to swim your laps, trying to only think of placing one arm in front of the other, to hold your breath as long as you could, but your mind was on him.

What a waste of talent…fuckin’ drugs, you thought to yourself with frustration, breaking your concentration and causing you to lose the rhythm of your body and steady breath. You broke your stride and floated in the water, your eyes rising to look at the ceiling.

“Right when I was starting to enjoy the view.” You heard his voice echo within the large room, mixing with the light splashing of the waves crashing against the edges of the pool. The taunt and teasing tone he liked to speak to you present, and you could already picture the mischievous smirk his lips would hold.

Yet when you turned in the water to face him, that expected expression shifted. Either he was still affected by the day’s events—you had heard from the crew about his interaction with the director on set—or his mind was on the last time you two saw each other a few nights prior.

He had finally ‘convinced’ you to come back to his room, but truly you felt like he had suffered enough from your teasing and withholding that he deserved relief—but the night ended as neither of you thought. His place had been a mess, empty baggies and booze bottles stacked on top of dirty plates, clothes with stains all over the floor, blankets and pillows all over the place.

What drew your attention the most was the haunting paintings on the numerous canvases leaning against the walls. They were beautiful, and skillfully done but sad and depressing and…almost disturbing to see the raw emotion of the man who acted with such reckless bravado.

“You need help.” You muttered as you continued to take in the room before falling to Dieter, his previous boisterous excitement popped like a balloon.

“It was just a thing yesterday…” he tried to lie and look away but as his words failed him, he waved his hand and returned to look at you with his usually hungry and destructive gaze. He stalked towards you, hands outreached to grab your face, his lips closed onto yours, his jaw pressing down to make entry for his tongue.

The way he moaned into your mouth made you quiver, the way his strong hands moved down your neck to wrap around your back had you snaking your arms around his neck, the way he pinned your body to his made you want to fuck him right there, but you opened your eyes for a moment and remembered why you couldn’t.

You released your arms and pushed against his shoulders, untangling your tongues, and unlocking your lips.

“I can’t do this Dieter…I didn’t realize it was—” Your eyes fell to the empty baggies that still had a small amount of white powder in them before forcing your gaze away. This was a dangerous place for you to be. You met his frustrated and guilty gaze and you could tell he knew what you were uncomfortable with. “I can’t risk it.”

You watched him walk halfway down the length of the pool, that night spinning through your mind, every trigger of your senses returning to your body as you felt the need to clarify why you left.

“I’m seven years sober,” you informed him bluntly, pausing a second before softly adding, “mostly cocaine.”

You swim over so that you can hold yourself against the ledge closest to where Dieter now saw. He dropped his sunglasses down to his nose, his eyes wide in surprise for a moment before softening with a flash of guilt. His mouth twitched as he leaned back, putting his glasses back up to cover his eyes.

“I didn’t know…” he muttered, shifting within his seat in a way you knew well. Guilt, shame, frustration of the iron grip that shit had on your state of being…angry that it’s getting in the way of something else you wanted.

“You couldn’t have. I, uh…also didn’t realize how bad it was for you.” You hesitated a moment to say your last thought but with a glance back at Dieter to see his glasses removed, his bloodshot and wide eyes staring at you with desperation, you knew you had to continue. “Didn’t realize how much I…cared.” You felt your tongue roll in your mouth at the word, fighting to hide the growing smirk at how his expression softened, his lips curled back into that intoxicating mischievous grin of his at the word you hesitated to speak.

“You like me?” He playfully asked, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth as he proudly smiled. You just playfully shrugged, smirking at him, and trying not to blush with the way he watched you until his expression shifted and your expression neutralized. “You think I have a problem?” He defensively asked, but you knew not to take offence and where that wall came from.

“I had read things before but then seeing it Deiter, I won’t lie that it doesn’t have me concerned.” He looked away from you with an exaggerated purse of his lips before he reached out and put back on his glasses.

“I’m not stupid, I see the articles and tweets, or whatever, about me.” He admitted to you with heavy distaste, his previous engagement with you released as he slammed into the back of the chair. “Call me a ‘has been’… ‘washed up’, so if I couldn’t appease them, I figured why not just play the part.” He confessed, saturated and dripping with self-loathing energy, his arms laid out beside him, palms up, as if he was carrying the invisible and unbearable weight his talent had brought him.

“You don’t want that.” You told him slowly, challenging him in the way you always did, telling it to him straight and unfiltered, always smiling at the look of shock mixed with excitement he gave you when you did. “Besides, your art is beautiful, and you will find that your line work will be a bit cleaner and the overall look will be sharp—”

“It’s my art style.” He interjected, his celebrity dickish defence involuntarily coming out again. Unfortunately for him, you knew what you were talking about with this topic.

“I know the style you are going for, and your lines could be cleaner.” You boldly informed him with a smirk, Dieter letting out a huff of annoyance, shifting his frustration of the situation to this disagreement instead of facing or accepting his substance misuse.

“How the fuck do you know anything about any of this.” He hissed at you but you just smiled. Of course, he would assume you’re just some basic person who was a part of the crew—he couldn’t know any better.

“You aren’t the only tortured creative in this room.” You informed him slowly, pushing off of the ledge to float peacefully in the, now stilled, water. “I had a full ride to The Royal College of Art when I was 16, highest honours, top of my class, all that shit…had a few pieces sell for about a hundred million each for private collections, others already circulating within some museum tours before I was legally an adult. Some of my teachers were calling me a prodigy, but…what do prodigies do?” You asked, moving your body so you were once again upward and treading water.

By the look he gave you, you knew you didn’t need to finish the rest of the story for him to know where it all went, where it left you—riches to rags.

“So, tell me then Dieter,” You said as you slowly swam back to the ledge before him, “do you think you have a problem?” You made sure your voice was soft, free of judgement or implication, and you patiently waited as you watched his eyes flicker, his lips twitch, and his nostrils flare, as he thought of his answer.

“Ask me that question before you walked out my door a few nights ago and I would have said no, told you to fuck off and suck a dick.” He told you, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk at his vulgarity before it faltered, Deiter hesitating a moment before adding. “Now I’m thinkin’ about it, maybe.”

“If you’re worried about the public, they love a good comeback story—just look at Robert Downey Jr.” You told him with a soft smile, wanting to encourage him to see it wasn’t hopeless despite how bleak you knew it felt for him to imagine life without them…without the drugs. “Plus…” You spoke in your sultry tone, bringing one arm off the ledge and to your back, lightly pulling on your strings. “You get this in replace of those.”

You lifted your top over your neck and whipped the wet piece of clothing at Dieter, causing him to bring his arms up to shield his face.

“Hey, that’s the money maker!” He jokingly yelled before snatching your swimsuit top into his hands, gripping them tightly before he looked at you, the realization of what you had done setting in.

“Best watch out then.” You told him before whipping your bottoms at him too and pushing off the ledge to swim to the middle of the pool, ensuring to turn your body, the round top of your ass raised out of the water, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“I’ll watch that, for sure.” He informed you, already standing up and taking off his housecoat, tossing his glasses aside, the sound of them skittering across the tile floor echoing inside the room.

“You can look at a much closer distance.” You teased him and Dieter immediately jumped into the pool, tearing off his shirt and throwing it into the water, pressing his feet against the bottom of the pool floor to run to you between chaotically taking off his pants. A lighter, money, his wallet, hotel card key and phone all fell from his pockets and when you tried to tell him he shook his head.

“I don’t give a fuck about that shit.” Then his lips were on yours, just like they had been the other night, but this time more desperate, more vulnerable, less controlled. It was easy for you to give in this time, you couldn’t smell or taste any alcohol on him, and you had seen his eyes were clear despite looking tortured—you knew he was sober.

And you could immediately feel his excitement start to lightly press against your thigh before it grew firmer, larger…harder. It felt huge and you had to tear your lips away from his to see for yourself what thing was pressing against you. You could hear Dieter huff a proud chuckle, knowing exactly what pulled your attention.

Unfortunately, the water distorted what was below and you couldn’t get a good look, but from what you felt and with that smug smile of his, you swallowed hard at the treat he had in store for you.

Let’s just hope that mouth of his moves as well as it smiles, you think to yourself before pulling on his neck to float your body back to his, locking your lips together one last time before pushing up on his shoulders. You took a few short breaths, then one long one before plunging yourself into the water to get a proper look.

The view was worth the effort, his full length in sight, right in front of your face, the head slightly curved away from you to point at his soft belly. Your eyes fell to the faint tummy trail that led to the thing that taunted you, the thing that you wanted more of, the thing you would take.

Still submerged and feeling fine for breath, you reached your arms out to grip the sides of his hips and pulled your body closer to his, opening your mouth and quickly inserting his cock into it—fearing if you were to only tease him you would forget you were underwater and start choking. You felt his body twitch at the sensation before relaxing into it, and then taking control.

His hand was in your hair, gripped and forcing your rhythm and motion—you expected nothing less from a twisted man like Dieter, and you felt his hold on you dampen you in a way a pool couldn’t.

You tapped on his skin when you feared you were being held under for too long and he did not hesitate to masterfully maneuver your weightless body so that your head was above the water, your legs wrapped around his torso and your tits immediately in his face and around his lips.

“God,” you manage to mutter once you could stop coughing up the small amount of pool water you inhaled, feeling his mouth close over your nipple, his tongue swirling and firmly pressing in, his teeth clenching down. The one hand that held you pressed your stomach into him, forcing your back to curve as his face pushed further into your chest, bending you backwards.

You felt the tip of him at your opening and you couldn’t help but rock your hips to lightly press his tip into you before dragging it against you until it reached your clit, repeating the motion until you felt Dieter bite down hard, a pleasurable gasp pulled from your lips.

Water moved past your body as he walked you both to the closest ledge, Deiter easily lifting you out of the water to rest your ass on the ledge, pushing your legs open before you could grasp what he was doing, only for him to provide evidence to your prior internal question: Yes, his lips were as skilled as his smile lead you to believe.

The flat of his tongue immediately pressed against your clit, his hands wrapped under and over your thighs, pushing down on your lower stomach in a way that allowed him to have you deeper within his mouth. His lips clasped onto you, his tongue flicking and sucking, his efforts coaxing loud animalistic groans and twitches from your body. He moaned against you, pleased.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he told you as he pressed the tip of his tongue against you with an amount of pressure that rode the cusp of being too painful, but instead of making you recoil, he sent ripples of pleasure through your body as he dragged the tip of his tongue down your slit and into you. You could feel his tongue press against your walls, his lips and teeth pressing into you so that he could get every possible part of him inside of you, taste you, tease you.

All you wanted was something larger to replace in there.

“Please, Dieter.” You managed to beg and you felt his lips smile against you in response, his tongue giving one last, pronounced, lick before leaving you.

“Didn’t I ask to hear you?” He clarified, pulling himself out of the water enough to have his face next to yours.

“Other people may—”

“I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” He cut you off, a darkness setting in behind his gaze, and you knew what he was chasing, seeking, in this moment. You understood it well. “Let them watch, 'cause until I make you scream so loud that someone could hear us, I won’t fuck you.”

Half unbelieving, half extremely turned on by the notion, you watched Dieter to determine if he was being serious or not with his request, but it only took a second for you to realize just how serious he was. You smiled, playfully dragging your teeth along his nose, letting them clamp down with a defined, and resounding, chomp.  

“What’re you waiting for?” You teased him, putting the tips of your fingers onto the top of his head before pushing him down as you leaned your body back, your aching cunt eager for his tongue and lips once more.

But he surprised you as he slipped two fingers into you, his mouth and tongue finding your clit again. You followed his request and audibly let him know how shocked and pleased his antics left you, your breath becoming shallow and short as his fingers moved within you and his tongue around you, leaving you just wishing to feel his cock in you.

You loathed and loved how he was making you work for it.

He moved in you, causing your body to heavily twitch and a guttural moan to escape you as your stomach lurched you forward, crying out his name loud enough that you were sure the echo left the corridor, and from the smile you felt against your pussy and the new vigour he moved with, you felt Dieter shared the same thoughts.

Every motion of his fingers, his mouth, his lips, or tongue had more moans coaxed from you, your hips constantly squirming until they started to stutter, your mind wanting to scream yet your throat tightening along with the rest of the muscles in your body.

“Let it out.” He demanded with a growl and a forceful twist of his fingers, causing you to immediately release everything.

“God, Dee—fuck-AH!” You yelped as you felt your legs start to twitch, a feeling rising in you that you had not felt before, a sudden panic rising as he made you feel better and better until you felt yourself crash against a force you could not handle, not withhold. You watched as Deiter gave an open-mouthed smile as you squirted and twitched against him.

Before you could say anything, he dunked himself under the water, pushing himself off of the pool floor and springing his body out of the pool to position himself over you, his knees pressed against your thighs, holding your legs open for him to view.

“My room?” You ask, wanting where this was heading but not in his room. Dieter just smiled at you softly before looking down to grab his cock and slide it along your cunt.

“No.” He softly denied, his vision fixed elsewhere as he changed the rhythm of his stroking to lightly press into your clit every time he graced it, but you felt your body stiffen—you couldn’t go back to his place. “You don't gotta do anything, sweetheart,” he told you with a smile, sensing your hesitation, his eyes meeting yours again, “just lay there, look beautiful…and bite down on this." He instructed you as he placed his thumb between your teeth and slowly pressed himself into you.

Biting down onto his thumb, you let out a soft whimper as you felt him stretch you, saw him wince at how tight you are around his girth, and the release of pleasure melt across his face as he felt himself fill you. He paused for a moment, his body not moving but you could feel him twitch inside of you, the muscles in his stomach giving away to his efforts.

“Close those pretty lips of yours.” He gently asked you, his gaze softening as his eyes darkened once more as he watched you follow his request, your lips wrapped around his thumb that was clenched between your teeth, your cunt taut and throbbing around his cock. “Look at how beautiful you are with your holes wrapped around me…bet you’d look pretty with another man’s dick in that mouth, too.” He whispered, bringing his torso to lean over you, his lips to your ear. “Feeling your tight, perfect, cunt around me…I think it’s the closest to God I’ve ever been.”

His confession was timed with his hips rocking out and back into you with a force that could shake the earth, your whole body stiffening as you bit down so hard on his thumb you thought you tasted blood, a deep and pained moan begging to escape your closed mouth.

“So beautiful.” He praised you, his dark and dangerous eyes raking over your face that was twisted with pain and pleasure, your tits jolting along with your body that helplessly rocked every time he slammed into you. You felt his tongue trace the side of your neck until he nibbled on your earlobe. “I wanna fuckin’ hear your pretty voice. Let me hear how desperate you are for me.” He growled into your ear.

Immediately your lips parted, teeth still clenched on his thumb. With each untethered, mind-numbed, or brainless groan, scream, and moan escaping your body you felt his pace quicken to match your short and shallow breaths, pressing into you for the length of each exclamation of pleasure you made.

It was unbearable to think you would have to stop feeling this way, that there would come a time when you wouldn’t feel his cock inside of you, his wet body boxing you in…it all left you wishing you could have Dieter fuck you here, like this, until your heart gave way.

As he has said, truly, the closet to God you had ever felt was when Dieter’s hard cock slammed against your back wall, his thumb pinned your teeth, pressed against your tongue, his lips on your neck, biting into you like he needed more of your flesh than he already had.

“Fuck, baby, what’ve you done to me?” Deiter gasped into your neck, his breath heavy as he kept thrusting his cock into you. You grinned, letting your head fall back, your body happily rocking with every forceful motion. You wrap your lips around his thumb, releasing it from your grip but sucking it with all your force as you slowly removed it from your mouth.

“Just admit this pussy is better than any drug or high you’ve had.” You tell him, rolling your face to meet his gaze, his pace slowing slightly as he took you and your words in before giving a soft smile.

“Taste’s better, too.” He told you, his thumb pressing down on your chin as his tongue licked into your mouth, his lips gently running over yours before he, once again, placed his thumb into your teeth. “Now, be a good girl and let me feel that perfect pussy clench around my cock again.”

#dieter bravo #dieter x reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #dieter bravo x f!reader #pedrohub #pedro pascal fandom #booburry writes

[em-harlsnow]

Something I’ve had in my mind for a while, so I did a little speed-write:

When he gets back from his therapist, Mickey’s on the couch with his laptop open in front of him.

He doesn’t make a big deal of anything, just looks up, smiles and asks how it went. Today it wasn’t too taxing, just one of the fortnightly appointments that they can afford now. Ian smiles back.

“It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Mickey looks up from the laptop, paying full attention.

He blows out a breath. “Yeah. It was fine, really. Nothing huge.” He says, because nothing huge was revealed, nothing huge was said. Therapy just takes a lot out of him energy-wise.

“Okay.” Mickey replies, placing a hand on his knee, squeezing, and then returns to the screen.

“What are you looking at?” Ian asks, trying to peak.

“That stupid shit you like. Pin Interest or whatever the fuck.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “You like it, Mick. And I know you know it’s called Pinterest.”

Mickey shrugs.

“So, what are you looking at on Pin Interest?” He smirks and Mickey snorts.

“Tattoo ideas. I was thinkin’ of getting another one.” Mickey’s gaze is laser focused as he scans through images, saving some and scowling at others as if they personally offend him.

Ian’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Where do you want it?” He tries to picture his husband with more tattoos and very much likes the image. He likes his current ones too much to not want him to get more.

“I dunno, man. Some sleeves are cool. But they take ages to build up. Maybe just one on my shoulder to start.”

“That sounds good.” Ian tries to get closer, but he still can’t really see what Mickey’s looking at. “Can I see?” He asks, pointing at the device.

Mickey sighs like he’s the most annoying fucker on the planet, but he tilts the screen towards him anyway.

He can see now that Mickey’s searched up ‘black tattoo shoulder men’ and there are just piles on piles of buff men with shoulder tats.

“I like the snake one.” Mickey tells him, pointing at the picture he means. It’s a serpent winding around the top of the guy’s arm, tangling together and going down to the bottom of his bicep.

“Yeah, that one’s cool.” Ian agrees. “What about that one?” He points at one with a fine lined dragon reaching onto the guy’s peck.

“I guess, but I don’t want it too thin, you know? When they do it too intricate, the lines all blur together.” Ian hums in assent.

“Show me what you already have saved.”

Mickey clicks through the website, and Ian catches a glimpse of his pre-existing boards before he goes to the tattoo one. There’s one called ‘wedding’ and one called ‘apartment’ and one called ‘dope shit’. The cover photo of ‘dope shit’ is an aesthetic image of two beers and two cigarettes clasped in two hands. Ian’s not really surprised that this is what Mickey considers to be ‘dope shit’.

In the folder is a lot of similar things. Snakes, dragons, one cat with bat wings. One looks like a weird cross between a gun and a dagger. They’re all pretty hot, and Ian tells him about his favourites.

“I was thinkin’ of drawing it myself. I don’t wanna just copy what someone else has.”

“What did you do for this one?” Ian asks, grasping Mickey’s forearm.

“Drew it.” He explains simply, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Yeah? It’s good. You should draw the next one, too then.”

Mickey hums in agreement but continues to browse the website, probably looking for ideas.

Ian clicks on the TV, starting up an episode of New Girl while Mickey’s distracted.

They sit in peaceful silence for a while, until Mickey speaks again.

“There’s a tattoo place up the street. The reviews seem good. Don’t wanna go somewhere if they’ll just fuck it up.”

“That’s true.” Ian pauses. “If you’re getting one, I might get one too.”

Mickey raises his eyes brows in that expressive way of his. “You want a new tat? Fuckin’ copy cat.” He grumbles, but with the way he looks Ian up and down he can tell he’s not opposed.

“Yeah, been thinkin about it for a bit.”

“Oh yeah? What you thinkin, tough guy, I’ll look up some ideas.” Mickey suggests, already looking back at ‘Pin Interest’.

“Don’t worry, I already know what I want.”

When he doesn’t say more, Mickey huffs impatiently. “Gonna keep me waiting all night or what?”

Ian smirks and leans forward. “I was thinkin’ of an ‘MM’ tattoo, right here.” He tells him, pointing at a spot on the inside of his wrist.

Mickey looks surprised, and fond, and happy all at once. Even so, he tuts at him. “Tshc, you don’t have to do that just because I got your name.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “I fuckin’ know that, dork. I like the idea of having a more permanent thing than the rings.”

“Yeah, coz you keep fuckin’ losing your rings.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want it to fall down a drain or something, Mick.” He laughs, exasperated. “But a tattoo won’t fall down the drain.”

Mickey looks at him, and he’s so happy that Ian can’t help but wind their fingers together.

“You don’t want it to look like Mandy Milkovich, though. Gotta get my middle initial, too.”

“Wouldn’t her initials be ‘AM’? For Amanda?” Ian raises his eyebrows. Mickey scrunches his.

“Oh yeah.”

“You hate your middle name, anyway. And ‘MAM’ looks like I got something for my mum, I want this for you.”

“Yeah, you already got those titties for Monica.” Mickey jokes lightly and Ian pushes his side.

<3333

i might write a next part, where they actually go get them!

#shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction #they’re adorable

[munson-blurbs]

So sick and tired of a cheating Eddie fic, how about an Eddie x reader fic where chrissy cheats on him with the asshole Jason because Jason put her up to it. Eddie is heart broken and since that was his first crush and love he was severely humiliated and depressed but reader comes up and not only loves him but fucks the shit outa him, literally he gives nothing he just receives tonight. Basically Dom Eddie but tonight he's sub

(please add him wimpering sjgssjjh)

Wanted

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), dom!fem!Reader, sub!Eddie, lil bit of fluff?

WC: 2.1k

--

“Hi.”

The sound of your best friend’s voice startles you. You lean over the side of your bed and turn down your stereo, Stevie Nicks’s contralto quickly fading out. “Hey–hey, what’s going on?” Your tone quickly shifts from excitement to concern as you take in his tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. Your gaze lands on the bouquet of roses clenched in his hand, and your heart sinks. “Did something happen with Chrissy? Did she stand you—”

“It was a dare.” Eddie cuts you off bitingly, letting the flowers fall to his side. “It was all a fucking dare. Jason put her up to it, and when I got to her place tonight, they were making out on his couch.” He blinks back tears, though he could swear that he’s cried enough tonight to dehydrate. “S’my own stupid fault; thinking that anyone actually wanted to be with the Freak.”

Your stomach lurches at the way he spits out the words The Freak. It’s a bitter taste in his mouth and he doesn’t try to hide it like he does when he’s around the guys. “I get it,” you say softly, reaching out and taking his hand to lead him inside.

He shakes his head, frizzy curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, you don’t,” he protests. “You’re pretty–like, really fuckin’ pretty–and smart and funny–” He stops mid-sentence, cocking his head to look at you. “Wait, are you only nice to me because of a dare, too?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the suggestion of such an act. “Yes, Eddie,” you deadpan, “I’ve been your friend for the last ten years because of a dare. Phew, it feels so good to get that off of my chest!”

Eddie playfully shoves you, a reluctant chuckle escaping his lips. “All right, fair enough.” He tosses the bouquet onto the coffee table, where they land with a defeated thud. His eyes roam your body, taking in the way your shorts hug the curve of your ass, and he feels the familiar twitch in his boxers. “You really are beautiful, though. Don’t bullshit me about knowing what this feels like.”

“But I do,” you insist, plopping on the sofa and tucking your legs underneath you. “I know what it feels like to want someone so badly, but they’ll never feel the same way.” And in a moment of raw vulnerability–or perhaps stupidity, you’re still unsure–you ramble on. “Like when they’re only into perky cheerleaders and wouldn’t take a second look at me.”

“Oh–oh,” Eddie says, thinking he understands exactly what you mean. “But neanderthals like Carver–they’re not worth your time. You deserve someone who actually cares about you, y’know?”

“S’not Jason,” you mumble, ducking your head to try and hide the bashfulness that inevitably takes over your face. You can still see his puzzled expression, so you relent. “It’s you, Eddie. I’ve had the biggest crush on you forever, but I know you like Chrissy, so I’ve kept it to myself. I’m not asking you to like me back, but you…you need to know that you’re wanted. You’re so wanted. And when you find the right girl, you’ll both want each other just as much.”

Eddie stands there, utterly dumbfounded. “Y-You have a crush…on me?” He spins a ring around his finger. “Shit, I had no idea.”

“Good,” you reply with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t want you to know. I never wanted to ruin our friendship like…like I’m doing right now.”

“You’re not,” he murmurs, taking a quiet step towards you. “I’ve spent all this time trying to find someone who cares about me, who makes me feel good about myself, and who is damn gorgeous…and here she is.” 

You let your gaze meet his. “Here I am.” Your hand rests on his denim-clad bicep. “And if you’d let me, I’d like to show you how wanted you are.”

“Oh, hell yes.” His lips crash against yours with a hungry kiss as you press him up against the wall. His knee nudges between your thighs as he hooks his forefinger into your belt loop, drawing you even closer to him. You tangle your tongue with his, tasting the tobacco of his last cigarette as you deepen the embrace. Your hands busy themselves with his handcuff belt; as soon as you unlatch the intertwining metal, you drop to your knees in front of him.

Tugging his pants down to his lower thighs, you palm the outline of his burgeoning erection through his boxers. “So big, Eds,” you muse, planting soft kisses along his pelvis. “How’m I gonna fit all of you in my mouth?” You toy with the elastic waistband, snapping it against his skin. His legs tremble at your touch, so much so that you worry his knees might buckle completely and he’ll land on top of you. Which, ordinarily, wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

But tonight, you want to be on top.

You pull his cock out, the tip drooling pre-cum. “Such a pretty cock. Anyone ever tell you how pretty it is?”

Eddie shakes his head, the only thought in his brain centering on the way your fingers wrap around him. “N-No, never,” he stammers. 

You lick a line up the center of his shaft, watching as it twitches involuntarily. “Tell me,” you start, “who broke your heart tonight?”

“What?” The question clearly catches him off-guard. 

“Do I have to repeat myself?” You heave an impatient sigh. “What’s the name of the girl who broke your heart tonight?”

It seems bizarre to say it while you’re on your knees in front of him ready to give him head, but Eddie obliges. “Chrissy.”

“Okay.” You nod, considering his response. “So here’s how this is gonna work. I’m gonna suck you off until you forget her stupid little name. And once that happens, I’ll let you cum. S’that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” You swirl your tongue around the fleshy head, using your hand to pump him. He’s growing even harder inside your mouth; the moans escaping him are pornographic. 

“Right there, don’t stop”

“Feels s’fucking good”

“Mmm, yes, FUCK YES, need this—need you”

It’s his last cry out that makes you pull away; too much of a demand for your liking: “Faster, go faster.”

You release him with a wet pop, his dick smacking harshly against his stomach. He whimpers at the loss of contact. “Am I doing something wrong? My blowjobs not good enough?” you ask, batting your eyelashes as you feign innocence. 

“N-No, you’re ‘mazing,” he slurs helplessly, already drunk on your mouth alone. 

You steady yourself, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. “Then why are you telling me what to do?”

“‘M sorry,” he whines, and you relent, taking him between your lips teasingly. One hand resumes working his shaft, while the other cups his heavy balls.

You hollow your cheeks, slowly allowing more of him into your mouth. The salty tang of his pre-cum starts coating your tongue, and you collect it with a content sigh. You can feel the thick vein that runs along his length, and you use it as a roadmap for where to lick and kiss. 

Eddie’s clenched fist slams against the wall, rattling the clock hanging on it. He’s so close.

“What’s her name?” 

Your voice startles him out of the fantasy world he’s concocting in his head, one where he’s bending you over the counter and fucking into you at a rapid pace. “What? Oh, um, I dunno.”

His blatant lie earns him another roll of your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me just so I’ll let you cum. Good boys tell the truth. You still remember it, don’t you?”

Eddie begins protesting, but stops as soon as he realizes that his efforts are futile. “‘S Chrissy,” he mumbles.

“Okay then.” You spit directly onto his tip, watching the saliva trail down to the unruly thatch of curls at the base. “We’ll keep trying then.” You’ll have to pull out all the stops to get him where you want him. You open your throat, allowing him as far back as possible before your gag reflex kicks in. 

This time, he’s the one who pulls away. “‘M sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you wave off his concern. “I can take it. Besides, you like when I choke on your dick, dontcha?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, with a small nod. “I fucking l-uhhhhh-fucking shit-love it.” He puffs out a long, strong exhale when you start sucking him off again, and you smile knowing that you’re the reason he’s coming undone. He bucks his hips ever-so-slightly, and you seize the opportunity to test him again.

“What’s her name?” you press him, sinking your teeth into the plush of his exposed thigh with a little nip.

“Don’t fucking know and don’t fucking care.” Eddie’s voice is low and raspy; this time, you believe that he’s telling the truth. “Just want you–only you.”

“Hmm.” You pretend to ponder this for a moment, standing up so you can kiss the side of his pretty neck. “Want isn’t strong enough, Eds. Y’gotta need me.”

“Fuck, I need you. Need you so bad; need t’be inside you. Need you to make me feel good. Feel wanted.” He’s panting, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can catch them. “Please, pleasepleaseplease, ‘m begging you, baby.”

You chuckle at how pathetic he sounds as his tough guy, Dungeon Master exterior fully crumbles. “Take off your pants and sit on the couch.” Pausing for a second, you add, “shirt, too. Want to see all of my good boy.”

“Yes ma’am.” He kicks off his pants and boxers as he stumbles to the sofa, yanking his faded Dio tee over his head and carelessly tossing it to the floor. He starts to reach out to undo the button on your jeans, but you slap his hand away.

“Did I say you could touch?” When he shakes his head woefully, you grab his chin to jerk his head upwards, looking him directly in the eyes. “Use your words.”

“N-No. No, ma’am,” he quickly amends. “‘M sorry, y’just look so good.” 

You don’t dignify that with a response, simply adding your pants to his pile of clothes before straddling his waist. “You can feel how wet I am, if you want.” You smirk at the last part of the sentence. Of course he wants. One timid ringed finger slides along the soaked cotton of your panties, and he shivers beneath you. “S’all for you, Eddie. My pussy wants you.” You slide them off, grabbing his throbbing cock with your hand as you align yourself. He stretches you when you sink down onto him, more than you’d anticipated, and now it’s your turn to moan. “Fill me up perfectly, Eds. Can’t believe I waited this long to have you inside me.”

Using his chest for leverage, you bounce up and down on his dick, feeling every last ridge against your walls. All he can manage is a string of swear words, practically incoherent while you ride him. He’s buried to the hilt, and you’ve never had anyone this deep before. You’re debating whether or not to tell him this when he murmurs, “‘M gonna cum–shit–can’t hold back. Where–fuck–where d’you want it?”

“Inside,” you say hurriedly, quickening your pace. “Been so good f’me, Eddie, and good boys get to cum inside.” His large hands grip your hips as he spills into you, the two of you finishing in tandem. You clench around him, milking every last bit of his seed. 

He stays inside of you, making no effort to move, but he brings his hands to your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss. “Thank you,” he says softly, nose bumping against yours. “For making me feel wanted and for, um, making me realize I’m into whatever that was.” He’s blushing, a deep crimson, and you realize that he’s never been dominated before. He shifts suddenly, creasing his brow. “Does this make us–”

You silence him with a kiss. “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” you shrug casually, like you didn’t just fuck the shit out of your long-time crush. “For now, let’s get cleaned up and get something to eat.”

Eddie nods. “Ice cream? My treat.” He squeezes your waist, and the touch has you biting your lip with want.

“Better be.” You nip at his earlobe playfully. “Good boys always buy ice cream after sex.”

--

#requests #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things