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#The first month or so I lived and breathed this fandom
charmwasjess · 21 hours
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6, 13 and 18 (Dooku) for the fandom ask, please :D
6) Show us a bit of a WIP!
:D You get the Sifo + Dooku + Time Travel Piece that I'm "definitely" "not" "writing." Some Asajj + 20 year old Dooku team-up nobody asked for. Especially not Asajj. -
Asajj studied him again, more appraisingly this time. He did look disconcertingly familiar.
Did Dooku have an heir that she’d never heard about? She’d clocked the boy as younger, what with all his naivete and whining, but now that she really looked at him… Nineteen? Maybe twenty years old? The age lined up disconcertingly well with Dooku’s first days as Count. A hereditary title, after all, passed from father to son. The idea of Dooku reproducing was nauseating, of course, though it was at least a little funny to imagine the former Jedi’s face upon being informed that House Serenno required his “gift” to ensure the bloodline’s survival.
But no. Why would House Serenno surrender an heir to the Jedi? She didn’t need to see the long braid to recognize that this was clearly one of their Padawan Learners; he reeked of a sheltered Temple upbringing. She could practically smell the refectory milk on his breath.
“Why do you want to be the one to kill Count Dooku so badly, anyway?” she asked, instead.
“He killed my best friend!” His voice broke on the word best, but his fury streaked, vibrant as a comet in the Force.
Asajj almost choked on her laugh. It was so melodramatic. Cliche. Like a line from an overwrought holonovel, spinning out in predictable plot hooks before her eyes. This Jedi child was pathetic. She ought to get them into space and send him to look for Dooku out the airlock. It seemed like it would save her and the Jedi both a lot of trouble.
She thought of her sisters.
Vengeance. Thick and sweet and tangy, like spoiled cream clinging to her tongue. It belonged to her, but no less to the others whose lives Dooku had crushed out for no better reason than because he could. She was here to glut on the Count’s blood. Who was she to deny this hungry child his own right to the feast? Dooku made a big corpse. There was plenty for all.
“Do you know how to sit down and shut up?” Asajj turned briskly to the ship controls. They had already wasted too much time.
“Yes.” A lie. She could tell that without even looking at him.
“Yes, what?” She prompted, glancing back. Maybe she just wanted to hear him try to call her “my lady” in that ridiculous, overformal Coruscanti accent of his.
He swallowed audibly, clearly uncertain. He glanced again at the twin lightsabers at her waist and seemed to decide. “Yes, Master.”
Asajj couldn't help the small, startled laugh that broke from her chest. That hadn’t been what she was expecting. No one had ever called her that. She felt surprised at the strength of her own reaction. Perhaps this would actually be amusing. At least, for a little while.
“What is your name?”
“My name?”
Asajj rolled her eyes. “You have a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘idiot’?”
She watched his hesitation, saw those big, guileless brown eyes drift and refocus. Black fucking stars, he lied artlessly, like a child.
“Sifo-Dyas. My name is Sifo-Dyas.”
13)What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?
I know I went backwards here writing the most unknown/unpopular character in the series with Sifo-Dyas to the most popular, but I'd really like to spend a little bit more time with Obi-Wan. He's got a large role in the next chapter of Twelves Months to Murder Count Dooku and I'm really excited. I really like the character. Kenobi changed something for me about him.
18) Type [charater]'s name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word
Lolol. "Dooku FOUGHT." "Dooku only" and "Dooku Nu" were other suggestions. Yeah, that really says it all. No notes, google.
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t-thedigitaldiary · 2 days
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Sincerely yours,
(part 1)
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author’s note: heey,everyone.Basically this the first fiction i’ve ever written and I’m pretty new to this platform so I’m not entirely familiar with how to make my posts pretty but I truly hope you like it :).Also,for the hashtags,this work of fiction is not at all related to Ellie Williams (although the aesthetic is inspired by her in a.u fictions) nor the tlou world.I just really wanna be a part of the tlou fandom in here,since i will be posting related artworks later on and bc im new,i thought this was a nice way to start :).Last but not least,this piece is extremely personal to me and truly reflects my feelings.Anyways,hope you enjoy!
Warnings!: poor mental health condition (mention of depression multiple times & trauma,not in great detail though),violence (basically someone being hit with a water bottle lol)
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Sunday afternoon. Ugh, you hated Sunday afternoons. Not because, like most people, you hated the upcoming Mondays, but because it was dull. Extremely dull, empty. You are not sure if the reason behind this emptiness is depression, but you have accepted it either way. Now that you think about it, you hated almost every afternoon. For the same exact reason. Even though you used to love the darkness of the night, something about the sun setting has now become extremely unsettling to you. ‘’Vitamin D my ass! ‘’, you thought. It wasn’t always like this, though. Something about the last six months has turned you into a living dead, a zombie if you may! No, actually, ‘’something’’ is a very unfair description of the cause. More like ‘’a very specific experience’’ has turned you. You had lost all your livelihood, all your appetite about almost everything and, suddenly, Sunday afternoons were not just dull, they were depressing. Just like every other afternoon of the week, just like every other time of the day. Every day. For the last six months. Wow. You thought about change a thousand times before. You prayed and you prayed that things were going to get better. You desperately asked the universe for a sign. A sign that you were going to survive this and live a happy life. No sign, no change ever came. Except for this peculiar Sunday afternoon. (Not so dull now, is it?)
You were laying on your back on top of your unmade bed. Blank white tee, black shorts, the same ones you’ve been wearing for over a week now (depression really gets the best of you, huh?). You were sitting with open legs and open arms. Your right, sock covered foot was bent and was softly brushing over your bare left knee. You had your hands thrown on top of your head. Someone that had just entered the room would’ve thought that this is the position of someone highly frustrated. Little would they know. In your mentally uncomfortable but physically soothing position you found yourself begging again. ‘’Please, universe, just one sign is all I’m asking for!” . You truly were desperate. You hated the life you were living, a life created in fucked up ways. All you needed was a sign. A sign of change, a sign that things were going to get better.
*knock knock*
The loud knocks on your bedroom door brought you back to Earth. What the fuck?! You were home alone for the entire weekend and you specifically remember locking the front door (you even double checked!!!). Now, you were not just surprised, you were also terrified. Whoever was knocking on your door definitely was not here for a good reason..
*knock knock knock*
You had no more time to think about it, you had to act. You went full-on survival mode. Even though you didn’t like the life you were living, you still wanted to live. You believed in that change. You collected every drop of bravery you had in you, grabbed your water bottle, the biggest object near and prepared for whatever it was behind that door. The knocks became louder and louder. You were sure now that within a bunch of seconds you were about to fight for your life. You shut your eyes close and took one last big breath. One last big breath befor-
The last loud noise heard was not from the knocking. It was the sound that your bottle and someone’s head made after they collided together. Oh, and the one of the body hitting the floor.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.
Word Count: 5.4 k
Warnings:
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The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 
Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 
It is enough to drive the man insane.
From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 
Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 
“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 
He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”
Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.
You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.
“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”
You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.
It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 
Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 
No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 
That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 
Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.
You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 
He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 
Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 
“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 
The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 
The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  
“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  
He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.
You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 
Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?
Only one way to find out…
Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 
“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”
Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”
You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”
How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 
The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  
Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 
“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”
Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   
Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  
A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 
Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 
The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.
“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”
Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.
His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 
That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 
“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 
“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”
Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 
“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.
A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”
That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 
“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”
“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 
Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.
Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 
As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 
“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”
As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    
Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  
Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.
His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 
You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.
Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 
Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 
Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 
Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 
Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 
Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 
The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.
Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 
Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.
Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.
“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”
Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 
A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 
You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.
You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.
His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.
“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 
Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?
Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.
“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 
The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 
Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.
Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.
Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee
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queers-gambit · 7 months
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You Might Think It's Foolish
prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 3.1k+
warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.
The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.
Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.
"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."
"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.
"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."
"We were busy."
"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.
"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."
You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.
"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."
"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.
"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."
"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.
The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.
And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.
However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.
First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.
When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.
Though they say opposites attract.
Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.
There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.
It was a sensory overload.
It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.
You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.
You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.
Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.
Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.
When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"
"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."
She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."
You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"
"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."
Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."
"No?" She mocked.
"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."
"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"
You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."
"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"
How had it come to this?
"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."
But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."
Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.
There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.
If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.
You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.
It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "
Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."
"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "
"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."
You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."
Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.
"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.
"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."
"Aegon," Daeron groaned.
"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"
Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.
Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.
"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."
"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.
"Listen to me - "
"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"
"What?"
"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"
You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.
You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?
Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.
You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.
"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.
"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.
"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."
"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"
"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"
She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."
"I don't want to."
"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"
"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."
"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"
You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"
"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."
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requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
Clingy Baby masterlist
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seireitonin · 1 month
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Dating: Eyeless Jack
Have to talk about someone besides LJ and Toby so here’s some EJ as requested! Sorry I lost your OG question whoever sent it :( Ik EJ has no “canon” backstory but the one I grew up with and the one that the fandom uses the most is the college/ cult one so that’s the one I’m using :3 also I hc EJ a bit different so yeah :3 I had to rewrite this 4 times bc the progress kept getting deleted 😭
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After multiple years of living off human organs in the forest, EJ has lost most of his social skills
So he doesn’t really try
He just sneaks into peoples homes, takes what he needs and leaves
He set his sights on you. You were perfect.
Your house is close to the forest, you live alone, you seem to sleep pretty heavy
He’ll be in and out no problem
So he sneaks into your home, quietly. Not waking you
And he stands over you, looking down at you
It’s ironic because he has no eyes, yet the demon inside him lets him see through the dark clearly
He watches you sleep peacefully
Your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your perfectly placed features, your soft breathing
He definitely would’ve had a crush on you in college
College….the fact that you made him think of college, his old life at all in any way at all, he knew you were more than just a quick meal
So he left
What was his next step? Stalking you of course!
He watched you go about your normal days. Talk to your friends, eat your food and watch tv. Normal.
He fantasized about living normally alongside you
He didn’t ask for the life he had now after all, it was thrust upon him
Part of him almost hated you for being so carefree but he knew that wasn’t fair to you
Since he can’t be part of your normal life, you’ll have to be part of his weird one
He took you from your home in your sleep, only using the smallest injection of drugs to keep you unconscious
And you woke up screaming in his cabin in the forest
He hated you screaming at the sight of him
Not only because it annoyed him, but you’re supposed to be making him feel normal. You’re just reminding him that he’s a monster
“I’m not going to hurt you”
You stay silent for days you stayed silent and frozen in fear
Jack understands at first but after multiple days of your silence he gets angry
Part of him loved that he was able to take someone else’s normal life away like his was
After an unsuccessful hunt for food, he talks to you, upset
“What’s the point of you being here if all you’re going to do is stare at me?!”
You look at him silently still
“Say something to me! Anything! Just….talk to me like I’m….”
“Like you’re what?”
The first words you’ve said to him…
“Human”
You two start to talk. Not like you have much else to do
And after days of talking you start to weirdly get along with him. And you don’t even know what he looks like
He always covered head to toe, black clothes, black gloves, blue mask with his black hoodie covering his head. You were barely able to figure out he had brown hair because you saw one tuff
You don’t want to upset your literal captor so you don’t push it
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I…just don’t know what you look like”
“You don’t have to”
Jack is terrified of showing you what he looks like. How could he even explain his appearance. Talking with you has been the most normal he’s felt in years. If he shows you what he looks like…that feeling is over
“Please….”
He hears you ask softly
“No…you don’t need to see what I look like”
“You kidnapped me it’s literally the least you can do”
“……”
“I won’t judge”
“There’s so much about me I can’t explain. I… talking with you has made me forget about what I am. So please….let me savor this feeling”
You nod and respect his wishes
Then days turn into weeks and into months
And you ask again
“Jack, please let me see your face”
“No”
“It’s my birthday! This is all I want for a present!”
He legs out a sigh
“Is this really what you want?”
You nod
“Only if you take it off” he was fully ready for your look of disgust and screams of terror
And so you do and you smile at him as you take him in, his grey skin, soft brown hair that falls into his face a bit and sharp teeth oh and no eyes
“Why aren’t you screaming?”
“I don’t know”
Jacks been sleeping by your side since that night
You guys don’t call yourself a couple, but it’s basically what you are
But being with him isn’t all fun
When he had to hunt he comes back angry, not at you, but the fact that he has to do it at all
So he’s snappy, irritable and barely talks and he’s just not pleasant to be around when he’s like that
He hates hunting and feeding and won’t do it for days and only does it when absolutely necessary
When that happens the demon he’s hosting takes over and it’s terrifying
He gets much taller, he barely talks, becomes more animalistic and at night he just stares at you, like he’s trying to hold himself back from attacking you
He hates that you have to see him like that but he also hates hunting and feeding
When he feeds he will never do it around you
He’ll always go in another room but you can hear everything
You can hear the noises of him eating because he eats like a ravenous animal
You can hear his growling and panting and fleshy ripping noises as he tears into the meat of the organs with his teeth
He’ll come back to your bedroom blood, around his mouth, hands and the rest of him and you have to pretend everything is normal or he’ll get mad
“You think because I don’t have eyes I can see the way you look at me?! Stop looking at me like that!”
You can only look away
He can’t take you out like a normal boyfriend can because of the way he looks and it makes him upset
So when he sees you wanting to do normal couple things it hits a nerve
“You know damn well I can’t do that”
He’s upset that he can’t be normal alongside you and give you what you deserve
He tries to take you on walks around the forest but he knows you deserve more
He’s super possessive of you and keeps you by his side at all times. You’re the only thing that makes him feel normal
Even though he trusts you he always is watching you to make sure you don’t try to escape
Try to escape and there WILL be consequences
But hopefully it’ll never come to that
Jack sometimes gets really depressed about how his life turned out so sometimes if that happens he’ll just cry
Well, he’ll try to
The tar burned his tear ducts and he has no eyes so he’ll just make these heaving noises and they’re so sad to listen to
It’s so heartbreaking that he can’t do a human thing like cry
So you just hold him as he makes those noises, comforting him as best you can
“I wish I could look into your eyes, Jack”
“Me too”
He hasn’t had a romantic connection like this in years
His last romantic interest was Jenny the girl who made him this monster in the first place so sometimes he’s scared you’re going to somehow you’re gonna betray him
He knows he’s being paranoid though or so he hopes
On top of that he’s not good at communicating / being social at all since he’s spent so much time alone
So when he’s upset or angry or has a problem with you he won’t talk it out with you he just leaves or is quiet. Worst case scenario, just mean
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it so just drop it.”
“But-“
“Drop it. Now.”
He gets better with communication as time goes on
Although he still really struggles with it
He’s also not very affectionate so it’ll feel like you’re alone even when he’s with you
He doesn’t do it on purpose, hes just so used to not receiving affection and he hasn’t given anyone affection in years
After some talks he’ll get better with it
He really does love you he just doesn’t exactly know how to show it
But he tries
He knows you can’t leave the house with him so when he’s out, he’ll get you your favorite food, a trinket or something else you like
“Here. I know you like this”
He sleeps much better now that you’re next to him
He’s grateful for you
He really is. You didn’t have to open up to him and accept him but you did and he’ll forever love you for that
Since your actual house is close to the forest you actually take him back to your house and live with him normally
You watch TV together, lounge around and get takeout that he can’t consume so he watches you eat it and just laugh and talk
When he’s with you, he’s normal. You’re his normal. His home. He finally found what he wanted in you
Although it’s not perfect, you’re together and that’s all he needs
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beingsuneone · 6 months
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Memories & Delusions
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PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
SYNOPSIS: Jason Todd is dead, you have to remember that; even if the newest villain in town is both incredibly sexy and reminds you of the boy you used to love.
FANDOM: DC
PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim
GENRE/AU: fluff, different timeline AU (not mentioned in detail but the timeline is different than canon), canon divergence, reader is kind of like Stephanie so NOT Bruce’s kids but she does live in the manor.
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.
A/N: I could fs do a part two to this ;)
DEDICATIONS: Myself for having this idea for more than two years and finally getting it out in writing in some way
CREDITS: N/A
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“Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is this guy, Batman?” You exclaim, panting hard through your mask; whoever this Red Hood guy is… he really knows your team's weaknesses. It’s disconcerting.
Weirdly enough, he’s left you mostly alone.
Bruce shrugs from across the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
It’s a blur of movement as Red Hood tries to attack mostly Bruce, only attacking Dick or you if you get in the way.
He’s said almost nothing since this fight started.
After a few minutes, Bruce sends a signal and jumps out of the half destroyed building; Dick follows and jumps out shortly after.
Leaving just you and Gothams latest criminal.
You’re about to turn to jump again, when suddenly your wrist is caught in Red Hood’s hand.
The familiarity of it makes you gasp and freeze.
He stares down at you, intimidating and silent through his red helmet.
Returning his stare, with as much fiery energy as you can muster, you try to pull your wrist away; His grip is like iron and you can’t.
“Don’t get in my way, Y/n.” He says, making your heart drop with the use of your civilian name. “I won’t choose between you and my goal.”
Your back is rigid and you’re breathing has stopped… if he knows your name, that means he probably knows everyone else’s too.
Fuck.
He finally lets go, brushing past your stiff body.
You’re too shocked to follow him.
….
“He knew my name, Bruce!” You say, feeling panicked. “Do you know what that means?”
Bruce nods curtly. “It means you aren’t suiting up until we’ve taken him down.” You try to protest but Bruce holds a hand up to cut you off. “It’s not up for discussion.”
You fidget with the small red pendant hanging around your neck, something you do whenever you’re feeling too many emotions.
It reminds you of Jason, the first boy you’ve ever been in love with and also the last; Jason was also Bruce’s second adopted son.
Jason Todd died five years ago.
But when he was alive… There was something special about him. He was always so eager to help Bruce by being robin.
That was back before you had your own suit; really, you’d only gotten a superhero identity so you could hunt down the joker and get revenge for Jason, but Bruce had managed to convince you not to do that in the last five years.
Probably for the best, even if seventeen is too young for someone to die; even if having a strong bond ripped away from you before it could become anything still hurt so badly.
You follow Bruce down into the batcave. “What do we know about Red Hood? Do we have any idea how he originated? It seems like he just popped out of nowhere.”
Bruce contemplates his answer as he unlocks the bat computer. “All we know is that he would have had to fly under our radar for months in order to take over the whole underground drug ring.”
You over hover his shoulder, trying to see what’s on the screen below him. “I don’t understand how we wouldn’t hear anything about him? With that many people who work for him, you’d think one of them would mention something.”
He hums in response. “They must be terrified of him.”
Alfred inserts himself into the conversation and ushers you back into the main part of the manor. “Alright, Miss. Y/n, You’re officially off duty indefinitely.” He pauses. “Like Master Bruce said, it is safer if you disconnect yourself from your hero identity.”
You frown. “If he knows my real name, he probably knows where I live.”
“He also told you, quote ‘don’t get in my way’ end quote.” Alfred tuts. “He clearly has no intention of hurting you as a civilian.”
You huff and head up to your bedroom, feeling like you really need to be out there but not really knowing why.
You suppose you don’t know what to do with your time anymore, now that you’ve been superhero-ing for so long.
When was the last time you read a book? Or watched a movie, just because you wanted to? It’s been too long…
Your bookshelves mostly carry decorative encyclopedias and other books that would bore you to sleep, so you leave your room and head just down the hallway.
The door creaks as you push open and clicks when you push it shut; then, you’re left in the silence of Jason Todd’s bedroom. Unchanged and untouched from the last moment he was in here.
It’s a little messy but nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy; the bed was never made, and his clothes were ever put in his drawers despite them being washed.
There’s books pulled out and just scattered in places, schoolbooks, comic books, novels… finally you spot what you wanted to find.
It’s a very old and very worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, something the two of you used to read together when you’d sneak onto the roof of the manor at nighttime.
You’d watch the stars and one of you would read the book out loud, until eventually you both would pass out and give Bruce a heart attack the next morning.
Maybe it was time to revisit that tradition, even if you were only reading to yourself.
Bruce and Alfred are in the Cave so you find your way into the roof and lay back. The shingles are definitely more uncomfortable without Jason to lay on, but it’s still a nice feeling nonetheless.
Just the act of laying under the stars with that book in your hands, makes you feel a kind of warmth that you haven’t felt in years.
You close your eyes and take a long, deep breath of night air; It’s fresh and ever so slightly damp, but in a way that makes you feel nice. The cold nips at your body in all the right ways.
Unfortunately, all bliss is momentary, and someone clearing their throat makes you jump a couple centimeters upwards.
You’re met with the bright red helmet of Red Hood.
“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” He says casually, though you're pretty sure he has a voice changer on, which makes his voice sound more irritated than it probably is.
You back up a few inches. “Bru-” Red Hood slaps a hand over your mouth before you can finish yelling for help.
You squirm in his grip, but he just maneuvers you so that your back is to his chest and you can barely move which makes your body lock up again— you can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles in your stomach, or the way your body reacts to his.
Worst of all, he smells just like… no, it must just be where you are.
Jason Todd is dead.
And yet.
“Relax, Y/n, I’m not here to hurt you.” Something about him makes you listen and you relax your body. He kind of half-scoffs in response. “Are you done?”
You nod as best you can. He releases you.
“Who— why are you here?” You say, trying to ignore the fact that everything about this masked man reminds you of Jason.
Your chest rises and falls irregularly as he stares at you.
His head snaps away randomly. “Why should I tell you that?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
There’s a look of defiance shared between the two of you, or, at least, on your end. You can’t actually see his face so you’re really just assuming.
You spin away and blow out a labored breath. “God, I must be going insane…” Even the way he talks with you sounds like Jason.
“You’re so short, you look like a bunny who lost its carrot.” He says with a laugh.
“I do not!” You exclaim angrily, your mouth dropping open. “Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Bruce.” Your hand slips into your pocket to pull out your phone, and just as it's out of your pocket, Red Hood grabs your wrist; he traps it in one spot and yanks the phone from your hand.
He gently sets it on the ground. “Tell that fucker whatever you want, but wait until I’m gone.” The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine. He seems so angry…
With that, he leaves, taken the same way that you took off the roof.
You stand there until you hear the roar of his motorbike, and then you finally retreat from the roof with the book clutched tightly to your chest.
…..
“I’m going with you, Bruce. You can’t stop me.” You say, already moving to try to grab your suit.
“No, you’re not.” He says sternly, blocking your path. “You need to stay out of this fight.”
You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “I’m going whether you let me wear that suit or not.” Bruce apparently doesn’t like this because he frowns even harder than before. You continue, “You can’t go alone. Dick is out of town and Tim is at school. Let me come.”
“You forget I did this by myself for quite a while before I adopted Dick.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Bruce doesn’t need your help, you know that; helping him isn’t your real goal.
Ever since the rooftop incident with Red Hood you’d gone into some sort of obsessive spiral over his similarities to Jason.
You feel like you need to talk to him again, touch him again… just to see why he’s so familiar; you feel insane.
The deepest parts of your brain scream at you that it’s not just similarities, that he really is Jason but… he can’t be; you watched them bury Jason’s body.
“There’s something else going on with you.” Bruce says, basically sizing you up.
You stiffen, which unfortunately gives away your next lie. “There’s nothing going on with me.” No excuse comes to mind so you don’t say anything more.
Bruce pauses for a beat.
“This has nothing to do with Red Hood.”
“Okay? Why would that matter?” You say dismissively, but also way too fast. “I don’t think keeping me locked up at home helps anyone.”
He sighs and finally caves. “Fine, you can come.”
…..
You aren’t sure how this situation devolved so quickly, but your communications got cut off a while ago and you haven’t been able to find Bruce or navigate very well through the rubble.
You’re bleeding heavily from a few different cuts and you’re pretty sure you sprained your ankle.
The faint cackle of the Joker makes you dive under a fallen piece of concrete, because if he comes this way he’ll surely kill you.
But the laugh recedes so you crawl out and sit against it instead.
You’re just about to start sobbing from the pain when you hear footsteps again; you go silent and try to move but you don't allow that.
You see a flash of red, and then Red Hood turns a corner into your line of sight.
“Christ’s sake, Y/n.” He mumbles. “What happened?” He approaches and drops down so he’s sitting on his feet, he stares for a moment, and you assume he’s assessing your injuries.
“You can’t call me that— here.” You hiss when he presses a finger against your ankle.
He stands up and takes both your hands, completely ignoring what you said. “Up. But don’t stand on your bad ankle.”
You grip his hands and stand up, holding your bad ankle in the air; Red Hood scoops you up bridal style not a moment later.
You squeal. “What are you doing?”
He stops walking and turns the face of his helmet directly toward you. “I’m taking you back to my base so I can help you get fixed up.” He interrupts you before you can speak, answering the question you were going to ask. “Batman isn’t here anymore, he went to follow after the Joker.”
It’s a rough walk to his bike, and it lasts for about ten minutes; ten awkward minutes of you being carried by Red Hood.
Red Hood who’s supposed to be a criminal and your enemy. Red Hood who brings you more comfort than he should just because of who he reminds you of.
He settles you onto the bike, pulling out an extra helmet before he speeds off.
…..
“Jesus, you sprained your ankle really badly.” He curses, performing whatever medical procedures as you hiss and whine at the pain.
He’s already stitched and/or dressed any of the open wounds you had and he saved the worst for last.
“Okay,” he says absent-mindedly. “I can’t do this properly with this thing.”
He reaches for his helmet but you stop him. “You’re taking your helmet off?”
He hesitates, then nods slowly. “I have to. If you don’t want to see, then shut your eyes until I’m done.”
You nod and squeeze your eyes shut.
He sighs softly and gets back to working on your ankle.
…..
“I swear to god, Bruce, it’s him. Red Hood is Jason.” You say, purposfully making your voice flat and void of emotion. “He has to be.”
Bruce just stares.
And stares.
Sympathetically, softly. But he stares.
“Jason has been dead for a long time, Y/n, and you know that.”
“No— I know, but he can’t be— that has to be him.” You back up into one of the chairs in the batcave, trying to calm your racing heart; you still try to keep a calm outward facade.
“What makes you think he’s Jason?” Bruce asks.
You weakly gesture at nothing with your hand. “Just look at him. He’s— everything about him is the same.”
Tim snorts from the computer. “The running drug rings and murders?”
“Not appropriate, Tim.” Dick says flatly and Tim’s face falls quickly.
You don’t blame him, you probably would have made a joke like that too.
Shaking your head, you stare at the floor past Bruce. “They sound the same, they talk the same way, they look similar— hell, they even smell the same.”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “How do you know what he smells like?”
“Uh…” you stall. “You know, close combat.”
Apparently, he drops it even though he clearly doesn’t believe you, because he asks another question. “We’ve never seen Red Hood unmasked, how do you know they look similar?”
You shrug. “They just do. There’s just something about him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling for a while.”
It’s silent again for several long moments.
Then Bruce shakes his head absentmindedly.
“Jason is dead, Y/n. No matter how much we miss him, he can’t come back.”
But he’s wrong, he has to be.
Because no one is that similar to someone. You’re sure of it.
……
Your cheeks are wet and your eyes are starting to become raw from you rubbing at them.
Sobbing pathetically on the rooftop of the manor because you had to be reminded about a death that happened a long time ago is not the highlight of your day.
It’s stupid, going from sure of yourself, to telling yourself you’re so stupid for ever thinking it could be true in the first place.
There’s footsteps beside you, but you don’t look up. You don’t care enough to see who it is.
You fidget with the necklace around your neck as you sniffle into your knees.
Something clicks and then hisses as if air pressure is being released before you hear a tiny thud, and then someone pulls you into them.
You know who it is now.
“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You know you could look up and confirm your suspicions at any moment but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.
It’s not true, after all, because it can’t be. It’s not possible.
You shrug against him. “I’m reopening old wounds for no reason.” You pause. “Why do you trust me?”
He’s silent, contemplative for a while. “You’re you.”
You laugh dryly. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
“You haven’t even bothered to look have you?” His hand strokes lines in your hair. “You could. I don’t think I’d mind.”
“I don’t want to know.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not ready for that.”
He nods, you can feel the movement through his body, even though it’s subtle.
You sit, wrapped up in his arms for a long while before he clears his throat softly and asks, “what old wounds have you been reopening?”
Your eyes well again, but you choke back the tears. “An old… friend, I guess. He died.” You start to pull back but you don’t look at his face.
Instead, you bury your face in your hands again. He lets you pull back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
You shrug. “It was a long time ago, he just meant a lot to me— and it’s really hard because you remind me so much of him.”
He makes a sort of strangled sound and then clears his throat again but more rough this time. “Why do you say that?”
His voice sounds even more similar without the helmet and voice changer. This man is going to be the death of you. Maybe literally. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just everything.” You shake your head and laugh sardonically. “It’s driving me insane.”
“How did he die?” His voice is darker than before, and there’s a sort of undertone you can’t place.
“Brutally.” You stop, take a deep breath, and offer only a bit more context. “The Joker.”
He hums. “The Joker‘s alive and ruling this dumb city.” He pauses. “How do you think your friend would feel about that?”
“Probably about the same as I do. Sick.” You run a hand through your hair, purposefully trying to avoid seeing his face. “That’s why I became a hero, you know. I wanted to kill the joker because he killed Ja- um, my friend.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“People stopped me before I did something I couldn’t come back from.” You say, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I hope the joker suffers a terrible death, but I don’t think it should be by my hands. He wins if I spend the rest of my existence regretting it.”
Red Hood picks up his helmet and clicks it back on. “Right.” He stands and stares down at you. “I have to leave now.”
You shudder at his sudden coldness, and stand abruptly. “Okay, I— um, goodbye…?” You want to smack yourself at how unsure you sound. “Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I just don’t know why you would ever regret ridding the world of someone like The Joker, that’s all.”
Stiffly, you nod and wipe your hands on your pants.
“Sorry about your friend.” He finishes, before leaving you alone on the roof again. “Too bad I didn’t know him.”
Basically, crushing any hopes you might’ve had that he was Jason.
……
This is an atrociously stupid idea, you know; driving directly into the den of Gotham's biggest drug lord is the smartest thing to do.
But Gotham's biggest drug lord is Red Hood, and you’re fairly sure he won’t hurt you. Mostly.
His lackeys though, don’t seem so forgiving.
“Who the hell are you?” The man who barks the question at you, is raggedy looking and has the worst, most distasteful tattoos you’ve seen in your life.
“I’m here to see Red Hood.” You amend quickly, “I’m a friend of his.”
“Yeah, right.” The other guard says, a bulky looking woman who is also insanely beautiful… unsettlingly so. “A fragile little thing like you, friends with our boss… please.”
You scoff. “Trust me, I’m not fragile.” Stopping, you contemplate whether it’s a good idea to start something, considering your ankle is still healing. “Just call him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”
An old phone hangs on the wall and she picks up the receiver and quickly dials a number. “Hey, I have a woman here who says she’s the bosses friend— her name? I have no clue— Oi, what’s your name?” The woman barks at you.
“Y/n.”
“Her name’s Y/n.” She’s silent for a minute while we all wait, then she hangs up the phone aggressively and yanks your arm into her grip. “Lucky. Let’s go.”
The corridors are a bit confusing to navigate, but you’re mostly just following the woman, who seems very familiar with them.
After ten minutes you reach a door, it matches almost every other door, but it has ‘boss’ written crudely on it in spray paint.
“You’re on your own from here.” She says gruffly before stomping away.
You take a moment to collect yourself before you knock, and the door swings open before you can even finish knocking.
“Why are you here?” Red Hood sounds breathless behind his mask, as if something winded him. “How did you remember how to get here?”
“I’m… actually not sure.” You chuckle quietly to yourself as Red Hood pulls you inside.
He sits down at a desk after pulling a chair out for you to sit in. “Again, why are you here?”
Your heart seizes for a moment as if the reason why you’re here hit you all over again. “I want you to show me who you are.”
“Are you sure?” Red Hood questions slowly, his body locking up. “You’re not going to like it.”
You nod curtly. “Yes, I need to know.”
He takes a deep breath and stands up, coming right up close to you. Far enough that you could see his face clearly but close enough to have your knees buckling.
He reaches up and presses a button you can’t see. The helmet hisses and opens, he pulls it off.
And your jaw drops.
Standing there, in grown up glory, black hair, green eyes that used to kill you, is Jason Fucking Todd.
“You’re— You’re not— dead.” You stammer, almost reaching out to touch him before you yank your hand back.
You’re so irrationally angry and also relieved and devastated all at the same time.
Jason sets the helmet down. You can’t decide whether to hug him and never let go or slap him for waiting so long to tell you. “That’s a… complicated story.” He pauses. “I promise I’ll tell you that story but I just— can’t get into that right now.”
You nod slowly. “Okay… that means I can get fucking pissed now.”
You’ve clearly confused him when you wrap your hands around his waist and squeeze tightly while also cursing him out. “I can’t believe you waited this long to show me.”
You can see the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. “I knew you’d find out eventually.” His eyes caress your body and there’s a look of longing lingering in his eyes; he seems to be contemplating something. “Fuck it, I’ve been waiting too long to do this.”
You barely have time to react as Jason lowers his face down to yours and kisses you; As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you kiss back.
His hands go to rest on your hips, as you slowly get pushed back into his desk behind you. When you hit the ledge of if, Jason lifts you onto its surface, and pulls back.
“I’ve wanted to do that since we were kids.” He says quietly.
You gently touch your lips, almost in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids.”
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anna-hawk · 22 days
Text
Dexterity
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.
Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k
Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk
Always time for Coffee series
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⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️
A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.
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Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.
You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 
Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.
The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.
You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.
As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.
Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.
That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.
You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.
He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.
“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.
“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.
You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 
“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.
You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.
“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.
“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.
“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.
“Can never refuse your coffee.”
You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”
You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.
“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.
“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.
You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.
“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.
“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.
“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 
That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.
“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”
You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.
“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.
You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.
“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.
You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.
“Is that a no?”
Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.
“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.
“‘m not playin', Baby.”
To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.
You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.
“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.
You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.
“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”
You say nothing, you can’t right now.
Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.
“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”
You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.
“You,” you breathe softly.
His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.
“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”
You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.
“Something… like… that…”
“Something?”
“Finger-fucking… me.”
He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.
“Something like that?”
Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.
The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.
Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.
“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.
Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.
“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”
“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.
“Yes!” you hiss, elated.
But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.
“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.
Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.
Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”
“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.
As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.
“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.
You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.
“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.
“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.
Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”
You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.
“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.
Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”
“But-”
“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.
You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.
“So… coffee?”
You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.
“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”
You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.
You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.
“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.
“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.
You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.
“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.
It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.
“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.
“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.
Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”
He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.
You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.
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afewproblems · 8 months
Text
So it's my birthday today, and I originally wanted to try out the microfic challenge for this month's prompt - cake, but this drabble definitely got away from me! So, please enjoy this little Steddie bday gift to me and to everyone else in the fandom ❤️
🎂🎂🎂
Eddie wipes his cheek with the crook of his arm, as he pours the finished batter into the first greased cake pan on the counter. His shirt sleeve comes away from his face dusted with the same flour that covers almost every inch of the Harrington's kitchen.
Robin turns a page of the open cookbook on the counter, her eyes scan down the page, "the icing recipe is on this page, did you take the butter out?"
Eddie groans loudly and as he pours the rest of the batter into the second pan, knowing that the other block of butter is still sitting in the fridge on the top shelf.
"If you didn't remember, what makes you think I did," he grumbles, running his pointer finger along the edge of the now empty bowl before popping a large dollop of batter into his mouth.
It's perfect, and Steve deserves nothing but perfect.
Steve who confided in Robin that he hadn't had a birthday cake since he was twelve years old, let alone anything made from scratch.
Made with love.
Not that Steve needs to know that…or Robin for that matter.
Eddie hazards a quick glance at the clock on the stove, they should have time to give everything a wipe down before--
"Guys?" A voice calls out as the front door unlatches and swings open.
Robin whirls around in a panic, grabbing to recipe book and tossing it into the cupboard beneath the sink while Eddie picks up the mixing bowl and shoves the rest of the dirty dishes into the sink.
"Their shoes are still here," the voice continues, soft and contemplative this time as Eddie turns too quickly, colliding with Robins side.
He fumbles with the mostly clean mixing bowl in his hands, watching as it slips through his fingers and clatters loudly across the floor, flinging chocolate batter across the tile and baseboards before rolling to a stop beside a pair of socked feet.
Eddie looks up from the feet to see Steve standing in the kitchen entrance with a bewildered expression on his face.
He's in the middle of taking off his Family Video vest. Steve's shirt rises to reveal a slim patch of skin, his eyes shift from the bowl, to Eddie, before landing eventually on the oven.
"Well…it looks like you two had a busy afternoon," Steve says slowly as his mouth curls into a fond grin that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He pulls at the bottom of his shirt, stealing the hint of golden skin that has Eddie practically drooling in the kitchen.
God he's so unfairly pretty it hurts.
Eddie barks out a laugh and steps forward to block the view of the two pans on the counter.
"You know what they say about idle hands," Eddie laughs, his voice tinged with panic as he wiggles his fingers. He winces even as he says it and quickly drops his hands, god could he be any more of an ass?
He spots Robin standing to the side with clear panic on her face, mouthing the words, 'Get Him Outta Here' with wide eyes.
And, well, never let it be said that Eddie Munson couldn't think on the spot.
Steve tries to walk further into the kitchen as he drapes his vest on the island, "okay, you two are being more weird than normal what's--"
It's like Eddie moves on instinct, his hands dart out to cup Steve's cheek and the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
Steve's startled gasp is muffled by Eddie's mouth as he walks them backwards until Steve is over the threshold and back in the living room once more.
Steve is frozen, tense, against Eddie and shit, he can't believe he tried this shit, he's so getting punched for this.
But then, Steve seems to relax slightly as he crowds closer into Eddie's space. His lips part as Steve breathes out a low moan.
Two broad hands come up to circle Eddie's hips, they squeeze once as Steve slots a leg between Eddie's own.
And holy shit, Eddie feels his brain go offline as Steve takes charge of the kiss, walking them backwards until Eddie is pressed against the wall of the living room.
It's good, so good, it's like something out of his dreams, the hot slide of lips against his own as Steve nips at his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth to sooth the bite with his tongue.
"Fuck," it's Eddie's turn to moan this time as Steve pulls back slightly to run his nose along the crest of Eddie's cheek. Steve's right hand is splayed beside his head, against the wall, while the other rises to thread long fingers into Eddie's curls.
"You taste like chocolate," Steve hums softly against Eddies lips, "good choice for birthday cake".
Eddie winces, surpressing a groan, "Shit, you saw the pans?"
Steve laughs as he pulls back further and lifts his hand away from the wall to gesture behind him at the foyer.
"I mean, I saw the birthday bag and decorations you two left at the door?"
"God Dammit!" Robin yells from the kitchen; Steve snorts at the string of muttered expletives she continues to spout and shakes his head.
"I wasn't expecting a birthday kiss though," Steve continues after a beat, a small crease in the middle of his brow grows the longer he looks at Eddie with nervous eyes.
Oh.
It's Eddie's turn to grin now, he snags a handful of hair to pull over his face, hiding the pink flush he can feel spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
"Oh yeah, I mean, that was just a sample, see if you, uh, liked it or not," Eddie says softly. He steps closer, emboldened by the way Steve's breath hitches.
"I did," Steve whispers, "like it, I mean, a lot," a light pink flush rises in his cheeks to match Eddie's own blush.
"Ugh, get a room dingus,preferably one not in hearing range," Robin yells again, the sound of the oven door opening and closing punctuates her words, "cake'll be at least half an hour anyway".
"Is the rest of gift upstairs?" Steve asks slyly with a grin.
Eddie's head tilts as he processes the question, until Steve cocks an eyebrow and his eyes dart towards the stairs, then back to Eddie in one fluid motion.
Eddie swallows harshly and nods vigorously as Steve takes his hand, "Yes, jesus, it's supposed to be your birthday not mine".
"Best one I've had in awhile," Steve says softly before leading Eddie up the stairs and towards his room.
Robin's voice trails after them, exasperated but fond, "you assholes owe me, happy birthday you horn-dog".
Eddie can't help but laugh as they cross the landing and open the door.
This wasn't the surprise he and Robin had initially intended; but as he watches Steve walk backwards until his knees hit the plaid bedspread, Eddie can't help but feel that this was much better than he'd planned.
Perfect even.
Permanent Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
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eetherealgoddess · 3 months
Note
hey bestie. requesting a yandere rindou haitanj scenario where reader (cis fem) is currently dating Ran, but rindou is obsessed with her and wants her for himself. a noncon smut where ran leaves reader at home for some reason and rindou takes the opportunity to do the noncon smut and ran ends up catching them, but instead of getting mad, ran just joins them. 💜🖤
Of course!! Hope you like it ♡︎♡︎♡︎
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ꨄBrothers Conflictꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Haitani Brothers Au
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Brothers Conflict
Being a Haitani’s girlfriend comes with its perks. Not only is Ran an attentive boyfriend, he loves to spoil his girl with all the finer things. Jewelry, makeup, clothes, nails, you name it, it’s done. It was a done deal as soon as he set his eyes on you. It was interesting considering you were the pursuer at first, having a small crush that grew into something more. Finally, ignoring all of your anxiety you confessed, only to find out that he had the same feelings.
Considering it’s hard to read his emotions, you had no idea that he had been thinking about you as much as you thought about him. It was a wholesome moment when he accepted your confession and surprised you with his own gift the next day to properly ask you to be his official girlfriend. It almost felt too good to be true.
After the first hang out, you met his brother Rin. Unfortunately, the awkward meeting resulted in his subtle insults at the dinner table along with the scowl plastered on his face. Worried that you had crossed a boundary of some sort, Ran reassured you that he acted that way with all his girlfriends and explained that he was just being a protective younger brother.
Brushing it off, you let go of your anxious thoughts and continued on as a normal girlfriend. A few months pass and the tension flees, though you still catch Rin’s intense glare boring into you whenever you and Ran relax at their apartment. You refrained from bringing it up, not wanting to cause any problems between the two brothers.
One day, you had been watching tv as you stroked your boyfriend's hair, his head resting on your lap as he breathed steadily, indicating a deep slumber. After a while, he wakes up and slowly pushes himself off of your lap. You eye him in confusion.
“There’s something I forgot to do. I’ll be back later, babe.” He says before giving you a peck to your forehead and hopping off the sofa. He checks for his wallet in his pocket and opens the door to leave. Once the door shuts behind him, you grab your phone and pull up an app, bored out of your mind as you scroll mindlessly.
“Don’t you have your own home or something?” A voice speaks from the side of the couch. You almost jump out of your skin, you have forgotten that your boyfriend’s younger brother was home.
“Ran invited me over.” You shrug, already used to the subtle jabs to the point that they don’t really affect you as bad. He ignores you as he grabs a glass of water before walking into the living room and sitting next to you, crossing a leg. Your eyebrows furrow at his choice of seating.
“What do you see in my brother, Y/n?”
You pause for a moment, not really expecting a question like that out of nowhere. He takes a sip of the liquid as he readjusts his glasses.
“W-well, I don’t really know how to explain it other than the fact that I would take a bullet for him. I like that I can be myself around him.” You shrug. Honestly, your feelings couldn’t be explained though you know for a fact you’re smitten over the older Haitani. You had been for years prior. The excitement you felt when he accepted your confession was unlike any other happy moment you’ve had. You feel safe when you’re around him, whether to be yourself completely or physically, knowing he’s protective. Of course, this is hard to explain when you’re called out on the spot.
“What a lame answer. Are you sure you deserve my brother?” You make eye contact with him.
“Maybe not.” You sigh, “but I do love him if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not going to try and hurt him or anything.”
It’s a funny thing, really. You think he’s asking as a protective younger brother. Such a naive girl, though that’s something he noticed in you from the beginning. The little love letters and gifts he opened whenever he found them in his brother’s trash. The excitement he saw on your face from a distance when Ran accepted your confession, not willingly on his own but by his younger brother’s bargaining. The hue that formed on your face when you read the notes from ‘Ran,’ not realizing who they were actually written by.
The plan was easy, really. Ran asks you out so his younger brother can get closer to you. What wasn’t part of the plan was Ran falling for you mid relationship. It just wasn’t fair. He never noticed you until Rin noticed you. Of course, they argued about it. Argued over you. It was interesting how much conflict you were bringing to the brothers without even knowing it. Yes, such a naive thing.
You eye him curiously, wondering why he hadn’t answered you. After a moment of Rin lost in his thoughts, he sets the cup down and stands up. Turning towards you, he bends over and snatches you from the sofa, placing you over his shoulder as he walks to the hall of the apartment.
“Hey! What are you doing?” You exclaim as you hit his back repeatedly. Once he reached his bedroom, he shut the door before tossing you on the bed.
“Rin?”
He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed.
“Why? Why do you love him so fucking much?” Your eyebrows furrow as you gaze at him with confusion. You wince as his grip tightens.
“What about me? I’m the one who tried so hard to get you! I’m the one who did everything!”
“Rin, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You try to reason with him, anxious out of your mind.
“The notes, the letters, all of it! It was all me.” He hissed, nails digging into your skin. “It was all a plan!”
“What? N-no.” You say in denial. You were so happy when Ran finally decided to give you attention within your relationship considering the beginning of it was a little confusing. You take a moment to think back to those detailed notes that stated things only Ran should know. Was it really all a ploy?
The younger Haitani smirks. “Yes, your precious boyfriend lied to you. Multiple times. He didn’t even have feelings for you until recently.” Tears threaten to fall as a familiar lump forms in your throat.
“N-no. Please, stop saying those things.” You hold back from crying, no longer in denial though not wanting to continue to hear anymore of what was coming out of his mouth.
“I’m tired of waiting for you to wake up, Y/n. It’s time you give back to me.” He states, removing his glasses and setting them down. You take the opportunity to use your free hand to slap him.
“Get off of me!” You shout angrily, tears finally spilling. You just want to leave and sulk by yourself. Rotting in your bed as you send Ran a break up text.
Instead of pinning the arm down, he ignores your outburst by grabbing your neck and lowering his face.
“If you bite me, I will fuck you up.” He promised with a deranged glint in his eyes. You could only stare in horror as he brought his lips to yours. He moves his lips along you hungrily before piercing his tongue through, saliva sliding out of your mouth as you don’t respond.
Using your free hand, you attempt to shove him by the shoulder though it doesn’t work. When he pulls back, he stops for a moment to wipe his mouth and gaze at your eyes. Before you could stop him, his face nuzzled between your shoulder and neck, piling kisses slowly up your skin as you grip his shoulder.
“Rin, don’t do this.” You cry, ignored as he uses both of his hands to tear your shirt. You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, the shirt torn apart, revealing your bare breasts considering you didn’t wear a bra today. His hands grab your mounds, gently squeezing as he releases a quiet moan.
“I was angry the first time I saw you and my brother have sex.” He lowers his head as he sucks one of the nipples, flicking his tongue before closing his lips around the nub once more. A heartbeat forms from your clit as you slightly arch your back from the chill that runs up your spine.
“Rin, please stop.” Your voice cracked, still hurt from the words before though frustrated with the reaction your body is emitting. He makes eye contact with heavy lids.
“But then, I couldn’t help but watch. Your intoxicating moans drew me in, Y/n.” His husky voice vibrated against your nipple, his lips barely touching the nub as he speaks, breath causing your nipple to harden.
“Such a slutty girl. Legs wide open for my brother, begging for more.” He returns to sucking, along with one of his hands easing down to your pants, unhooking them before sliding into your panties.
“Rin.” You whisper. “Just wait, please. W-we can talk about this.” You bite your lip when you feel his finger push against your clit. He slowly rolls his finger against the nub, eyeing you as he continues to lick your nipple. His other hand fondles the other breast, pulling and rubbing circles on your nipple. Your hands held his shoulders, pushing him once more, to no avail.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about your face and how it looked when he was eating you out. The way you rubbed your pussy against his face. I came so hard thinking about you, baby.” He whispers the last sentence.
Your fingers tighten against his shirt as he accelerates his finger against your pussy. Your hips twitch as your head falls back. You felt the juice fall out of your pussy as he gave another lick to your nipple.
Suddenly, he pulls his hand out and sits up. He moves off of you and swiftly pulls your pants off. You try sitting up only to be pushed down before he tears your panties off.
“Rin! This is wrong!”
He ignores you as he opens your legs, fitting himself in between as he holds your thighs down. He doesn’t give you a chance before his lips circle around your clit. Your hips jolt up as you grab his head as an attempt to push him away. His grip only tightens around your thighs, squeezing his arms around painfully as well as using his nails to leave indents, eyeing you from below. You yelp in pain as you fall back, the pleasure of his tongue flicking your nub conflicting with your emotions.
“Well, brother. This was quicker than I thought.” A voice comes from the doorway. You look up surprised to see your boyfriend.
“Ran, i-it’s not what it looks like! I swear!” You cry out.
“It’s okay, baby. I know.” He sighs as he sits behind you, positioning himself to lean against the headboard as your back leans against him.
“I know I have some explaining to do. We can talk about it later, alright? Just relax.” He circles his arms around your waist, his hands moving to hold your breasts as he leaves a trail of kisses on your shoulder.
Rin uses his fingers to gather your slick before pressing two of them inside of you, angling it to hit your g-spot steadily as he continues sucking and licking your clit. You couldn’t help but thrust your hips to force his fingers deeper, releasing a moan before heavily breathing as the overwhelming sensation takes over your body. Your eyes fall into the back of your head as you lay against Ran.
“I just want you to know that I love you so much, even if our relationship didn’t start off as ideal.” Ran softly speaks against your ear while pinching and fondling your nipples.
“W-why did you, ah… lie to… fuck! Lie to me?”
“Oh God!” You exclaim as Rin continues to bring you closer to the edge, accelerating once more as the sounds of your wet pussy fills the room. You feel Ran’s hardened cock against your back.
“I said we’ll talk about it later.” He uses one hand to pull your chin back, landing a passionate kiss on your lips as your body moves against him, grinding your hips against Rin’s face as he adds another finger.
“I-I’m gonna…ah!” You moan as you finally release, Rin lapping up all your juices as your body convulses.
When Rin moves from your legs, he removes his pants as Ran gently shifts you on your knees. You breathe heavily as your legs tremble from your orgasm. Rin guides you on top of himself as you weakly rest your head on his shoulder.
“W-wait! What about a condom?” You say against his neck.
“It’ll be a Haitani either way.” Ran states as he removes his own pants.
Before you could respond, Rin pulls you down as he shoves his cock all the way in. Both of you groan as the feeling of your pussy is stretched and wrapped tightly around his girth. His arms wrap around your back as he holds it there. You feel Ran spread your cheeks before he uses your leaking cream and his own saliva to rub against his cock. He eased the head in, a pain shooting through your back as you whimpered against Rin’s neck.
“I’m gonna fuck this pussy so good.” Rin breathes out before pulling back and rocking his hips forward. Ran shoves himself all the way in as he grips your ass, pulling himself back before slamming in.
They both rock their hips, gradually accelerating as all of your moans and heavy breathing filled the air. The pain mixes in with the pleasure before it engulfs you fully, your mouth held open as your body rocks in between them. Your hands hold onto Rin’s shoulders tightly as you’re plowed from both holes.
“So good. Such a good fucking girl.” The blonde says as he picks up the pace. His head falls back as your sweat mixes with his. “I waited so long, Y/n. You have no idea… fuck! How many… ah! Times I’ve cum to you.”
In a twisted way, the words he spills out of his mouth causes another aching throb to hit your pussy, clenching around him as you both make eye contact.
Ran accelerates his speed, turned on by the display of you getting double penetrated by both of them. He smiles as the scenarios fly through his mind of you naked and waiting for them to come home. Another twitch of his cock forms from the ideas.
After a few minutes of his cock making contact with your g-spot and your boyfriend’s cock filling your ass, you squeeze your eyes shut as you subconsciously bite into Rin’s shoulder, orgasming. Your bite causes him to groan out before pressing himself deep inside you and releasing his load. Ran follows not long after, his cum leaking out of your ass as he pushes against you. Breathing heavily, Ran removes himself from you, pulling you into his arms as well as Rin hugging you from behind.
When you caught your breath, you attempted to sit up from your position, anger lingering from the truth spoken earlier.
“We need to talk.” You say to both of them who only ignore you as they hold you in place, dozing off into a deep slumber as you follow not long after.
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swanimagines · 2 months
Text
SOMEONE TO BE SCARED OF | MORPHEUS
Summary: Your ex is an asshole. So Morpheus punishes him.
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"If I can't have you, no one can."
That's what he had said when you broke up with him. Months of belittling and torment from the man you had foolishly started dating on Valentine's Day. He had felt like a dream, but by the end of February, he had turned to complete opposite of himself. His true self.
Morpheus had succeeded in talking you out of it, he had told you you deserve someone better - seeing how miserable you were now that he let you live on Earth with the man you claimed to love. Eventually, he saw what was happening, and you finally broke down in front of him when he visited your dreams. Morpheus managed to make you break it with your ex, and there, hell began.
Your ex's threat seemed just a childish outburst at first - but then it started turning into worse. Humanity showed its worse side to you. He came to your workplace, started spreading ugly rumors about you and even tried to attack you in broad daylight. You were scared for your life, you tried to go to the police and hide from him, but nothing seemed to work. He always found a new way to torment and bully you.
But without your knowledge, Morpheus had started to work on actions what he'll do to your tormentor for making you scared like that. He had cared about you for a long time, more than a boss should care about his employee. In a different way. He had changed a lot during his imprisonment, so much that he had eventually accepted your wish to live on Earth, he had let you to fall in love with someone else than him. Even through his jealousy. He felt like your current situation was his fault too - he should have checked the man's dreams, he would have found out his real nature from them. But he also knew it would have been creepy if he had done it. But he still should have known.
He was fixing that mistake right now. Your harasser would be left scared and alone, unable to get anyone else fall for him ever again.
"Who are you?" the man snarled the moment he saw Morpheus standing by his bedside. "Creep, get out of my house!"
Morpheus smiled, and the man got a look as if something snapped within him, as he lost all power over his own body. A partial sleep paralysis was an excellent way for things like these.
"I am someone you should be scared of," Morpheus replied. "You will leave everyone you torment alone."
Morpheus knew the man was desperately trying to find some way to escape, but he was glued into his bed, forced to watch Morpheus loom over him.
"I can make you suffer," Morpheus whispered. "Or you can end this here."
The man just stared at him, taking in short breaths.
Morpheus reached forward and grabbed the man's neck, squeezing it tightly until his eyes bulged out.
"This is what happens to men who mess with people who love them," Morpheus said softly. "You're a fool, you don't know any better. You think you can try to scare them?"
"No," the man finally squeaked. "No, I won't contact them anymore, please, I promise I won't."
Morpheus stared at the man, his eyes glowing brightly in the dark. "You won't. And if I hear you have, I will curse you with nightmares for the rest of your life."
With that, Morpheus was gone and the man was released from his paralysis, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his spine. For a moment, he wondered if it was real or just a nightmare, but he definitely didn't want to find out. He got so scared that he dropped everything and moved out of town - and never again he mistreated anyone in his life.
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Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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five-bi-five-mind · 8 months
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obviously no rush or anything but i have a future jj x fem!reader fic in mind for you…..
basically reader having lunch with emily at jj’s and r’s apartment, and they both start talking about their sex lives.
r says how much fun jj was when they first met and moved in together, which leads emily to ask “what about now?”
r gets all flustered and explains that jj kind of got vanilla and a little boring. also saying she had to fake a couple orgasms….
jj comes home and overhears, so she takes r to the bedroom and RAILS her over and over again
just an idea:)
Stuck In a Rut
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader
Word count: 6.4k+
Genre: Smut
Summary: Since moving in with JJ, things have kind of slowed down. It’s not that you’re not still in love, you’re head over heels for her. It’s that one certain aspect has gotten a bit… dull. What you really want is for JJ to stop being so soft with you at least for once, but how do you tell her that?
Warnings: degradation kink; name calling; over stimulation; strap-on (r receiving); biting; top!JJ, bottom!r; praise kink; dumbification; let me know if I forgot things
A/N: so this is a little different than the request. I didn’t get all the details because I just kind of ran with it but uhhhh hope you enjoy 🫣 and yaaaay 1k celebration!
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To say things had gotten a little stale… seemed harsh, but it was the truth. You and JJ had moved in together about six months ago after a year of dating and then there was just a change, a lull. It wasn’t that you two weren’t in love, you both very much were. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy to be her girlfriend or she wasn’t happy to be yours, she showed you off any chance she got and you did the same. It wasn’t that you two weren’t compatible to live together either. Things felt comfortable and safe, more so than they ever had before. Everything seemed perfect, but there was just one thing that got, well, a little boring. And that was your sex life. 
You honestly couldn’t understand what happened. When you two didn’t live together things were still pretty exciting and any time you were with JJ in that way, it took your breath away. The shift happened about two months into living together. The first month, you two still had that excitement. JJ had insisted on fucking you on pretty much any and every surface possible. She said it would make the place “feel like home” and you happily went along with it. But then the second month came and things slowed down and kept slowing and slowing and slowing… until suddenly all that heat and excitement of JJ having you in a way that you wouldn’t want anyone else to just got a little lackluster. 
The worst part was, it wasn’t like your sex life actually stopped per se, it was just that it got, quite frankly, dull. JJ suddenly shifted from being an exciting lover who would leave you breathless after every encounter, to a soft and slow one. Not to say you didn’t enjoy that sometimes. Just not all the time. 
What you wondered was what even caused this shift in her? Was it all the domesticity that you two found yourself surrounded in now that you lived together? Part of you thought that was it. JJ had definitely gotten softer herself as your relationship with her progressed and you loved that about her. She was so guarded at first, but she really dropped those walls down the more you two fell in love. You just wished that maybe that softness didn’t have to be present all the time. 
Just thinking about that made you feel terrible too. JJ was truly the perfect partner in all other aspects and you genuinely were so happy. But you were also just a little bit on edge. You never thought you were someone who would get a little snappy just from having a dull sex life, but here you were. You could tell the shift in yourself, even if you tried so hard to hide it. It was just that after a handful of nights with JJ ended more than a little disappointing on your part, there was only so much frustration you could deny in yourself. What’s worse and made you feel quite a bit guilty was that you had to fake things. There was no way in hell you were going to tell JJ that she wasn’t doing it for you. You could see the conversation now and the hurt look she’d get. It was the worry that telling her she wasn’t getting you there would be interpreted as she wasn’t enough for you that kept you silent about your whole little predicament. Lucky for you, JJ didn’t seem to see through any of it and continued on to be the obliviously happy girlfriend you knew her to.
Unfortunately for you, while your girlfriend didn’t notice, her best friend somehow did. 
Emily was no stranger to you, even if she was originally JJ’s friend. One of the best parts about dating JJ was that, not only did the two of you click with each other, but you also clicked with each other’s friends. So, as you got to know JJ and fall in love with her, you simultaneously fell in love with JJ’s friend group as well and quickly got comfortable with the people she surrounded herself with. One such friend that you felt particularly safe and comfortable with was Emily. So when she showed up at the apartment you and JJ shared when JJ was out running errands for the day, it was no problem for you to invite Emily in anyways and spend some quality time with her.
In fact, Emily expected you to be there. She came bearing lunch for the three of you, wanting to just chat if you and JJ were free. You told her JJ was out, but she still gladly stayed and chatted with you. And you were honestly grateful for the company, despite how wound up you were from your current predicament with your girlfriend. 
The two of you spent all of your time that afternoon just chatting about your lives. While you might be more on edge than you usually are, you weren’t about to turn done some quality time with good company. There was a large chunk of your days spent alone since JJ’s job was so demanding. While you appreciated that JJ was out doing errands alone, because you didn’t feel like you had the patience for Saturday afternoon crowds, you still were always excited for any kind of company you could get. So, to have Emily over and bringing her positivity into your space was a refreshing surprise. 
When lunch was finished and the rest was packed up for when JJ returned you mentioned that you had a bit of random chores around the house to do that you had intended to get done before JJ got home. To your surprise, Emily eagerly offered to help and that’s how you found yourself standing next to her and folding laundry in your bedroom. 
The conversation kept up just as it did when you two were enjoying lunch, but somehow the topic jumped dramatically and you weren’t entirely sure when the shift even happened. You didn’t think of yourself as a particularly open person when it came to the topic of your romantic life, especially when the person you were discussing it with was your partner’s best friend, but here you were.
Emily’s question about it really caught you off guard. It was innocent enough; a simple “so how are things with you two?” that you answered with what you thought was an enthusiastic response. Except, Emily followed your answer with a very telling “but…” and, suddenly you looked at her like you were caught red handed.
“It’s okay,” Emily smiled at you as she delicately folded a random towel. “Whatever you say stays between the two of us. I can just tell that you’ve been a little on edge lately.”
How could she tell? You thought you were hiding it so well! If she noticed, does that mean JJ noticed? But then, JJ was the type to actually say something if she could see that something felt wrong and she hadn’t said anything to you at all yet. So, hopefully Emily was the only one to see through your “everything is perfect” kind of act. 
“It’s not that we’re not good,” you began, refusing to make eye contact with Emily. “It’s just that… Well… I’m not unhappy.”
“Of course not,” Emily reassured.
“And JJ is a loving partner who treats me well.”
“As JJ should,” Emily nods along. 
“But… there’s just something about living together that’s changed us.”
Emily stilled her hands and turned to look at you thoughtfully. Her smile was still there, soft and reassuring, but she had this little glint in her eye that told you she could see almost exactly what you were getting at. It was as if she just already knew.
“Sometimes, when people move in together they can get a little comfortable,” Emily explained. “That comfortable feeling can go a little too far with some couples. Some might say that their partners tend to forget the romantic aspect to their new life together.”
“It- It’s not that,” you shook your head hard. It wasn’t that JJ wasn’t romantic with you anymore. She would often come home with flowers or still surprise you with beautiful dates in very thoughtfully picked locations. During those times you’d still feel the romance and the love. If you were being honest, in all aspects of your relationship with JJ minus your little bedroom problem, you both were very much still in a little love bubble. A lot of couples lose their honeymoon phase around this time in your relationship, but you could proudly say that that rushing, gushy feeling you got when you were near JJ was still very much alive and well. But again, it was alive and well in every aspect, but one. And that one aspect was really starting to drag you down. “We’re comfortable, but it makes me happy. She’s still just as romantic as when we first met.”
“Mhm, so if it’s not that… And you’ve been on edge….” Emily nodded to herself. You eyed her nervously, wondering if the look she was currently wearing was one you might see if you saw her on the job. “Oh, it’s the sex!” 
Your eyes practically fell out of your head as she blurted out her epiphany. 
“Emily!” 
“It is, isn’t it?” Emily leaned towards you with a satisfied smirk. “Oh, it’s okay, we can talk about these things.” She waved her hand dismissively as she spoke. “Sometimes, it happens. Things get a little old. Have you tried telling JJ what you want?”
“Well…”
“That’s a no,” Emily answered for you. “You know JJ is crazy about you, right? If you told her you wanted to try something new, she would listen.”
“I- I mean, maybe.” You rubbed sheepishly at your arm, the laundry forgotten as  soon as Emily started to toe into this territory with you. “Jennifer, she can be… What’s the right word… prideful? That’s not quite it, but still, she’d take it very personally.”
“Well, she has to know you’re not enjoying yourself.”
You didn’t say anything at that, giving her just a tight lipped smile. Emily eyed you for a moment, scrutinizing why you seemed to look so guilty all of a sudden until realization filled her features.
“You’re faking it!” Emily pointed at you, flinging a hand towel across the room in the process. 
“Emily!” You gasped, your face turning different shades of red.
“What?” Emily shrugged. “We’re friends! Friends talk about these things!”
“Yes, but JJ is your friend first!”
“Okay…?” Emily’s eyebrow was arched as she stared at you, as if you weren’t making any sort of sense. She couldn’t deny that she was JJ’s friend first. There’s some loyalty there; some stuff you didn’t discuss with your partner’s best friend when it was about your partner herself. “I’m your friend too. Whatever is shared between us, stays between us.”
Emily’s eyes were earnest, but still you were way too hesitant to just spill your guts completely. Except, she kept staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to confirm her accusation. 
“So,” Emily started up again when you took too long to respond. “If you’re faking it, then JJ has no idea you’re in this little rut, does she?”
You bit your lip and shook your head sheepishly in response. “It’s– Well, it’s only been a few times,” you offered as if that made it sound any better. “That I, you know, faked it, I mean.”
“I see…” Emily trailed off, thinking to herself. “So, if you’re going to go about this, you need to do it gently.”
“And what is it exactly that I’m doing?”
“Telling JJ what you want.” She said that as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Obviously, if you’ve been stuck in this dilemma long enough for Emily to notice, it wasn’t all that simple. 
“Emily,” you warned. “It’s not that easy.”
“Why?” Emily’s question was genuine, not accusatory, and it had you thinking about why exactly it was so hard for you. You did have a very real fear that you’d embarrass and hurt JJ’s pride if you brought up this little problem, but was that all that it was? 
“I’m not sure,” you sighed. “It just is.”
“Because you’re nervous?” Emily’s question finally connected the dots. It wasn’t just that you were worried about hurting JJ by revealing that you’d been bored with your sex life, it was that you were also too shy to ask for more. “You shouldn’t be. This problem won’t be fixed until you tell her what you want, you know.” 
“It’s- Emily, it’s kind of hard for me to just come out and say all of that to her!” Look at the horrible job you were doing right now just talking about it vaguely with Emily. Your face was so flushed you could imagine that you looked a bit like a tomato at this point. Emily didn’t seem phased by any of this, but your palms were sweating and your stomach was churning and you felt so shy and embarrassed. This wasn’t something you were used to talking about with anyone, let alone a friend of your partner’s. “What would I even say to her?”
“What you’re telling me,” Emily suggested. “Whatever it is that you want, I’m sure when you get it out in the open, JJ will at least consider it. She wants to make you happy and if you’re not happy, eventually she’ll figure it out and she won’t be happy either.”
“You’re right,” you nodded in agreement. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard to find the right words.”
“Well, without much detail, what do you want?”
“Just more…” you were struggling to find the right words. “Fire? Passion? I’m not really sure. It just feels like some of the passion is gone. She’s so gentle that it’s boring. I know it’s her way of showing me that she loves and cherishes me, but I want more. I want something new, something with that… that rushing feeling we used to get.” 
Emily nodded in understanding of everything you were saying. She gave you some more encouraging words on trying to bring it up with JJ, but soon the conversation went back to normal things and wondering what was taking JJ so long. Neither of you heard the front door open fifteen minutes earlier and the soft footsteps that lead to where you and Emily shared your heart-to-heart. 
It wasn’t until you heard some clanging in the kitchen that you realized JJ was home. Luckily for you, by the time you were aware that she was home your conversation with Emily had turned back to normal things. A small part of you was worried JJ was home much earlier than you realized and could possibly have heard everything, but you shook that fear off, knowing JJ would announce her presence as soon as she arrived like she usually did.
But, for whatever reason, this time JJ didn’t. This time, unbeknownst to you, she heard it all and neither you nor Emily realized it. 
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Emily spent a few more hours with the two of you now that JJ was home too. Everything was pleasant and JJ seemed to be happy to see her friend on her day off, but there was something you couldn’t quite place. JJ was just slightly more quiet than usual. 
With you and JJ, the two of you were so in sync that you knew immediately whenever she was upset or in a bad mood. Tonight, that wasn’t what it was. It was as if she was captivated by her own thoughts. Not upset, not sad or angry, just pondering. But whatever thought she was so engrossed in, you didn’t know. 
Emily left before dinner and that quiet pondering continued throughout the evening. It was odd behavior for JJ, but honestly the silence between the two of you as you ate wasn’t all that negative. You were also busy mulling things over in your mind. The idea of approaching JJ with a few requests to try some new things was worrying you, but you knew it needed to be said. 
When dinner was over and you were cleaning up, you were even more lost in your own little world. The conversation you had with Emily from that afternoon was still going through your head. How were you going to talk to JJ about this without hurting her pride? Was that even possible at this point? If you were going to be totally honest about what you wanted then you’d have to tell her how long you’ve been faking things with her and that would surely not sit well with her. 
Part of you was also nervous to bring anything up and have it all blow up in the end. Would JJ even be willing to change things up with you or would it stay the same? If it stays the same, then what then? If the spark in the bedroom is going out, what does that mean for the spark in your relationship overall? There were just too many questions running through your mind.
The constant thought process of how to break the news to JJ and start the conversation was consuming all of your attention. Your hands and feet were on autopilot as you continued to clean up the kitchen. So, when JJ slowly snuck up to you with your back turned away from the kitchen entrance, you were totally unaware of her presence. That is until she was suddenly directly behind you, pushing the front of your body right up against the counter. 
“JJ, what the hell?!” Her sudden move had forced you to drop everything in your hands. Lucky for you, it was just some plastic tupperware and nothing sharp or breakable.
“Shhh,” JJ whispered in your ear. “Spread your legs.” JJ’s hands were on your waist as soon as she had you pinned. You were honestly so confused by this sudden turn of events that you didn’t register what JJ was asking of you. 
That must have been very apparent to JJ, because after a moment of you standing utterly still, she did it for you. Her legs went in between yours, kicking both your legs open until you were bracing even tighter onto the counter to keep yourself standing. JJ’s body pressed even harder into yours from behind and you suddenly realized you felt something very curious pressing into you from behind. 
“JJ, what are you-” You stopped when your mind finally connected what you were feeling as JJ started to grind her hips into your ass. You knew exactly what was going on now. 
JJ had you figured out. You weren’t sure how or when, but you knew that she knew. 
“Stop asking questions,” JJ bent forward to whisper in your ear. “And do what you’re told.”
“I-I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” you stammered as JJ kept pressing herself into the back of your body. “JJ, this is–”
“New?” She cut you off. “You wanted something new, didn’t you? That’s what I’m about to give you.”
Your body stiffened as JJ spoke. So, she did know. That little fear in the back of your head that told you JJ was home a lot earlier than you realized was right. The question was, how much did she hear? Did she know about you faking a few times or just that you wanted to change things up in the bedroom. God, you hoped she didn’t hear the part about you faking it…
“You didn’t answer me,” JJ’s voice came from behind you. “Am I wrong? You want a change, right?”
“I– Well, no you’re not wrong, but–” JJ’s lips pressing right at the pulse point of your neck before sinking her teeth down into the flesh there is what cut you off, even if you were already struggling to form a sentence. Your hands went to grip the counter at the burst of pleasurable pain that she just caused while you were mid-sentence.
“I’m going to give you something new, princess,” she practically purred against your skin. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want. You’re going to cum for me over and over again like a good girl, until I feel like you’ve had enough. And you definitely won’t need to fake them.” The low tone JJ’s voice took with her last words had you both shocked that she did in fact here and shiver at how almost threatening she sounded.
While you were preoccupied with this shift in her, JJ was already busy getting to work with her plan. You felt her hands reach around to your pants, giving them a hard yank before letting them fall in a puddle on the floor. You were already breathing harder than you probably should, your head twisting and turning to try and look back behind you at what JJ was up to. 
This new change in her had startled you and a large part of you was incredibly ashamed that she had heard you spill your guts to Emily. It should’ve been you directly telling her that you wanted something new, but unfortunately she heard everything she wasn’t meant to. Even so, there was another part of you that was absolutely way too excited for what was to come.
As for JJ, when she heard the little conversation between you and Emily, she did feel a little guilty that she was listening to something she wasn’t meant to. However, she wasn’t upset with any of what she heard, she was glad she did listen in even. Because, it wasn’t just you that felt like there needed to be a change. While JJ was definitely unaware of the past instances when you faked your orgasms, and that did sting a bit, she spent the rest of the evening plotting out a way to fix this. See, she had wanted to change things up for a while; let loose a little. She also was worried about ever being too rough with you, but sometimes she got into these moods where all she wanted to do was ruin you. When those moods came, she suppressed it and overcorrected. She knew now that she overcorrected way too much, but tonight it was time to lean into that mood. 
So, as JJ continued to put her plan into motion, she was getting a little ahead of herself with how much anticipation she had. When she heard the conversation, it was like a door had opened to so many new possibilities of what she could try with you. Once she settled on what to do first, she waited until you least expected for her to pounce.
Now here you were with JJ’s body keeping you trapped between her own and the kitchen counter, half naked from the waist down. “Stay there,” JJ ordered before taking a small step back. Surprisingly, you did as you were told without having to question it anymore. JJ admired you for a second; loving the way you looked bent over the counter, bare ass sticking out for her. She gave it a smack and you jumped, but didn’t complain. 
From behind you, you could hear JJ slowly pull the zipper to her jeans down. You knew exactly what was coming next and you bit your lip in anticipation. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were, just from a little bit of roughness from JJ. But then again, she was never rough with you like this. It was this exact behavior that you wanted so badly to see from her. 
JJ stepped back up to you, her hands reaching between the two of you to cup your ass. You let out the smallest gasp when she squeezed, already more excited than you’d been in weeks. From behind you, you could hear JJ let out a small, smug chuckle in response before sliding two of her fingers through your folds. This time, the gasp wasn’t as quiet. 
She ran her fingers through you a couple times, gathering your wetness onto them and causing you to shift and squirm even more. You wanted more of her touch, but as quickly as she started, she pulled her fingers away.
With her fingers coated in you, she reached down to her little surprise she had waiting for you. Little was a bit of an understatement, she thought as she ran your wetness over the dildo she had attached between her legs. It was going to be an interesting sight to see you take it. You two had used toys before, but not like this. Not something that, JJ knew for a fact, was bigger than anything you’ve taken. She was excited to see how good you could be for her. In the past she treated you so carefully, but tonight she was determined to fuck you to the brink of breaking. 
“Do me a favor,” JJ leaned her body against yours from behind. You felt what you already knew was a quite large strap on, poking between your thighs. “Be a good girl tonight and take what I give you.” 
You nodded your head fervently, biting your lip harder when one of JJ’s hands moved around your body to slip under your shirt and paw at your chest. JJ took a moment, kissing on the back of your neck and running one hand over the top of your body, while the other squeezed at your thighs. She loved the way you were already wriggling in anticipation for what she had in store and just wanted to savor this moment before she really dug in. 
Your chest was heaving already and your head was bent down as you made cute little sounds JJ loved to hear. Your hands were splayed on the counter, trying to keep yourself upright while JJ practically groped your entire body. The way you were already struggling to keep it together had JJ just that much more excited to see you utterly fall apart. So she got started.
One hand left your body while the other moved down to steady your hips. The hand that wasn’t on you, moved between her own legs. She wrapped her hand around the toy, running over it once more to make sure it still felt lubricated enough from your own wetness. Once she deemed it ready, she lined up. 
You held your breath, trying your best to brace yourself on the counter as you felt JJ’s faux cock start to line up with your entrance. This thing was big, you didn’t need to see it to know it wasn’t something you were used to. There was still an exciting anticipation coursing through your veins, but you also anxiously hoped that JJ would go a little easy on you. Just for a few minutes, at least. 
JJ’s hips started to push forward and you immediately felt the tip of the toy begin to stretch your walls. Your eyes squeezed tight as she slowly pushed her cock all the way inside of you until she had bottomed out. 
Your head dipped even lower, your mouth hanging open again as you tried to adjust to this new feeling. It was painful, you couldn’t deny that. Your pussy was stretched more than you’ve ever felt. But still, you needed JJ to move her hips, to do something. You tried your best to push your hips back into JJ to meet hers more closely, if that was even possible. She immediately got the hint.
Pulling out slowly and almost completely, JJ paused. “You’re not going to fake these,” JJ’s voice was practically a growl. “Got it?” And with that she slammed the toy back into you with such strength that the guttural moan you let out shocked the both of you. 
JJ’s hands were back on your hips now as she pulled out and mirrored that exact same action. You were trying as best as you could to keep some sort of restraint as she fucked you from behind, but it was a losing game when the pleasurable burn of her stretching you out had your head swimming. Meanwhile, JJ was setting a steady pace. Not too fast, but with each pump of her cock inside you, she put a little more strength into it.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” JJ groaned as she kept moving. You felt her nails dig into your bare hips as she went. It was like she was trying to restrain herself, to keep her own pace consistent, when you thought that, potentially, she wanted to go faster, maybe even be a little rougher.
And that was exactly it, but JJ needed you to ease into this at least a little bit first. She was testing the waters with you, seeing how much she could push it. While she wasn’t necessarily being gentle, she was still trying to have some sense of control. Only, that was slipping so fast with the sounds you were making and the way she could just hear how wet you were. 
It was sounds like these that she hadn’t heard in a while and didn’t realize she missed so much. So when her pace increased and you couldn’t help but to whine and cry out her name as she fucked you, her control slipped even further. 
She could tell you were close too. The way she had your pussy stretched out mixed with how rough she was being had you approaching that edge finally. This time, it would all be completely real and as your legs began to tremble, JJ increased her pace and encouraged you to cum.
When you finally did, she slowed for a second. The both of you needed to catch your breath; you from the powerful orgasm and her so that she could prepare for what was to come. The pathetic little moan you let out when you did cum had broken something loose in JJ’s brain, something that she had really tried to hold back with you, but now she wasn’t going to. So she’d let you catch your breath, take a moment to appreciate the way you looked right now, and then continue.
JJ’s hands rubbed at your back for a second. “That’s my girl,” she cooed, leaning back to get a better look at you. She was still inside you, but you were slumped a little further onto the counter, cum dripping down your thighs as you came down from your high. “We’re not done though.” 
And with that she set a new pace that had you scrambling for purchase on the counter again. The way she was fucking you, it was like she was trying to fuck up into you until you were completely sprawled out on the counter. Your body had gotten used to the stretch, but your pussy definitely wasn’t used to this kind of brutal treatment. Your legs were shaking harder than they were when she made you cum the first time and you were seriously questioning your balance at this point.
It didn’t seem to bother JJ though, if she was aware of it that is. All she was focused on was the satisfying slap of her skin against your ass as she fucked you so hard you swore you saw stars. 
“J- fuck— JJ I don’t think…” you couldn’t get the words out no matter how hard you were trying. The relentless way JJ kept pounding her cock into you was making it impossible for you to do just about anything other than moan. “I don’t think I can keep standing.” 
You felt JJ’s hands flex, as her grip on you grew tighter. She didn’t stop, despite your warning, she didn’t even slow down. Her hips kept pumping into you from behind, each time pushing you painfully harder into the counter. Your head was hunched down, your hands were struggling to grip at anything on the counter. Pretty soon you’d be slipping until you were face down on the countertop if JJ kept this up. 
“I don’t fucking care,” JJ growled. With those words, it was like she knew exactly what your worry was and she made it happen. Without warning, one hand that was on your waist moved to the top of your head, pushing your head down til your cheek was pressed against the cold countertop. This new position forced you to jut your ass out even more, giving JJ an even better angle to fuck her cock into you deeper. 
Her hand remained on the top of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Tears pricked in your eyes at the brutal way she was fucking your pussy. Your body was practically quaking underneath her and you could feel another orgasm coming in strong. 
As rough as she was being, you were enjoying every minute of it. JJ was practically manhandling you, using you as nothing more than her toy to fuck, but you didn’t even mind. It’s what you wanted all along and you didn’t even know it. 
JJ pulled your hair to jerk your head up. As she did, her hips still flush with your ass as she pushed her cock into you, she lent forward on top of you. “You love this, don’t you?” JJ taunted as your walls tightened around her cock. “Letting me fuck you right here on the counter like a little whore. You fucking love it.” 
You had never heard her talk this way and your eyes squeezed shut as your next orgasm started to rip throughout your body. 
“Say it.” JJ tugged on your hair. “Say you love it.” 
“I- I-“ you couldn’t form words when you were falling over the edge on JJ’s cock again. “I love… god- I fucking love it. Fuck, JJ just keep— keep fucking me.” 
JJ let out a triumphant chuckle before releasing your hair and wrapping her hand back around your waist. With her hold on you, she moved your own body onto her cock while she kept pumping it into you. The continued abuse of your pussy, mixed with the sheer strength of JJ’s movements had you coming a third time before you even knew it. You hadn’t even come down from your second orgasm before she had you moaning and screaming her name into a third one. 
What definitely shocked you was the way JJ kept going even after that. It was like there was no end to the strength and stamina she possessed. She didn’t slow, not even after she had pushed you to a third orgasm without a pause. No, she was determined for a fourth.
Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you were suddenly too aware of your nerve-endings and as she kept fucking you, the harsh way she was treating your pussy as she pumped her cock into you with abandon was starting to hurt. Yet, it all still felt incredible. The pain of your body being pushed to the brink mixed with the pleasure she was giving you was better than the last three orgasms she coaxed out of you combined. 
“God, why didn’t I do this sooner?” JJ grunted as she kept up her pace. “I was hoping you’d be able to take it if I let go a little, but this… You’re just taking me so fucking good.”
You couldn’t even speak at this point, all you could do was let out a gurgled hum of some sort of agreement as JJ’s grip tightened that much more on you so she could keep up with what she was doing. At this point, you were fairly certain that there were marks where her nails were digging into you, but that little bit of pain added to it that much more. Tears were definitely staining your cheeks from the sheer intensity of it all too. You were sure, if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’d be shocked by what you saw. 
The fact that you could cum again so quickly and for the fourth time in such a short period was shocking you, but when you came again for her, you came with a silent cry as your body shuddered around her cock. 
This time, you couldn’t keep yourself upright, fully slumping onto the counter. JJ finally slowed down, her hands coming up to keep you upright and prevent you from landing on your ass.
After a moment of being still, but remaining inside you, she finally pulled out and your body shook for a second at the loss. You still hadn’t caught your breath, but JJ was patient, running her hand over your back and cooing at you as you gulped down much needed air. 
When your chest stopped heaving and your body trembled a little bit less, JJ turned you in her arms. Still, she had a tight hold on you to prevent you from slumping all the way down and onto the kitchen floor and you were appreciative of the support. 
“Hi,” JJ murmured as her arms squeezed you into her chest. 
“H-hi,” you panted, burying your head into the crook of her neck. 
“Was that too much?” JJ’s voice was soft and hesitant. You still weren’t quite recovered enough to form coherent sentences so you just shook your head as best you could while still pressed into JJ. 
“Good,” she mumbled before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Was that… more like what you wanted?”
You willed yourself to look up at her this time, knowing this required a proper response. “Yes, but JJ I’m sorry. I should’ve told you first.”
“It’s okay, my love,” JJ smiled down at you. “I understand. I’m sorry things got a little… monotonous. I’ve wanted to try something a little new with you for a while, I just didn’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s not your fault.” You leaned up to kiss JJ’s lips softly this time. “But I’m not as fragile as you think. You won’t break me, so… can we do this again?”
“Oh, definitely,” JJ gave you a cheeky grin. “In about ten minutes actually.”
“What?!” Your eyes went comically wide as JJ started to practically push you towards the bedroom. 
“There’s more I want to try.” 
You gulped, but willingly let her lead you to the bedroom. That night you both learned the limits your body could go to and over the next few weeks you were introduced to more experiences you hadn’t even realized you were into until JJ presented them to you. It was like a whole new side to your relationship had opened up and it definitely fixed the rut. 
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dreamingofep · 2 months
Text
A Blue Velvet Crush
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(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering
Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)
Word Count: 5.4K
A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.
If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!
Thank you again❤️
Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.
Mississippi, September 26th, 1956
Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person. 
You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life. 
You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it. 
“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say. 
You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing. 
And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage. 
There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today. 
There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!
You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much. 
The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage. 
The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”
The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot. 
The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage. 
He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand. 
Click. 
He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.
There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…
Click.
Fucking focus.
He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.
Click.
You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.
Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors. 
You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted. 
“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head. 
Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.
Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out. 
The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight. 
Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.
What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’
You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.
“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.
He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.
He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.
“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.
“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.
“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.
Lil’ darlin’.
Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.
“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.
“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.
Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.
I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...
“Huh?” You say in a daze.
“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.
“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.
Stop that. Stop that right now!
You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.
“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.
He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.
“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.
Click.
He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…
“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.
Click.
God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.
“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.
“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.
“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.
Click.
“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.
He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.
“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.
He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.
You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.
Click.
You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way. 
He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.
Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…
Click.
He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.
“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.
You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.
“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.
“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes. 
I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!
“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.
His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.
You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.
He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.
“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.
“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.
You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything. 
You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.
Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.
“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.
“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.
You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.
He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.  
You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch. 
You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.
“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.
What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling. 
You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him. 
“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.
“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.
“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.
“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you. 
“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.
He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.
You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.
“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.
“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.
He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.
“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you. 
You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.
“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.
“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.
“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.
“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.
“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.
He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.
The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good. 
“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.
“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.
You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse. 
Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.
“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.
“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.
You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.
You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.
“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand. 
“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.
He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.
“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you. 
You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.
“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.
“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.
He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.
“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.
You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.
“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.
“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.
“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.
“You, my new favorite reporter.”
*
*
*
Tagging:
@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler
@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep
@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051
@thatbanditqueen
@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873
@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis
@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy
@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony
@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl
@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121
@jaqueline19997
@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8
@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69
@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista
@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs
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your-highnessmarvel · 5 months
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It's Just a Flesh Wound, Baby
Requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms : Hello dear, it's my bday tomorrow and maybe i couldn ask for a buck imagine :) Maybe where you both had a one night stand but avoid each other afterwards even though you're in love with each other. During one battle than you save him from something and get hurt badly, nearly dying. He stays with you till you wake up and then tells you properly that he loves you? maybe also his pov if you want :) thank youu *smooch* 💕💕
AN: first of aaalllll HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU!! I hope you're doing the things you love tomorrow or today or this week! You little scorpio (fun fact, i'm. scorpio too!)
Warnings: language
*gif not mine
MASTERLIST
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"Y/N, get his six," Steve ordered through comms, causing you to grunt.
Of course, Steve was sending you with Bucky, of all fucking people.
"I'm literally standing behind Vision," you answered grimly.
You could practically hear Steve groan through comms.
"Vision doesn't need you to check his back, y/n," he answered. "Vis basically has 360 vision."
You rolled your eyes. "Wanda then."
"She's with Vis."
"But!"
"Just come here," you heard Bucky grunt, wrapping metal fingers around your bicep. He hauled you to him, watching as you almost visibly recoiled from him.
He let go of you like you were the plague. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, disgusted.
You looked up at him from under your brows. "Nothing, let's just go."
But it wasn't nothing. Even if the fabric of your suit had kept the metal fingers from your skin, you could still feel it. Not from now, but form the people living in your head, the Bucky groaning against your mouth as he thrust into you. The you in your head, gasping against his ear, grabbing at his hair to stay afloat because your orgasm was just a few seconds away.
He'd thrown you off a precipice almost three months ago, and since then, it had been like meeting a wall with a wall. No one really talked about it. None of you had even addressed it after he'd finished in you, letting himself spill out of you. He hadn't even said a thing as he helped you wash up and put you to bed.
And now, this stupid mission.
You followed Bucky like you were told, checking his six with your own assault rifle.
You followed him, back to back, until he grunted and pulled you against the wall with his metal arm.
"Ow, Buck, that hurts," you grumbled.
"Shadows, two o'clock," he whispered. "It's gonna be a fight."
He told you to follow him as he shot upwards, avoiding bullets while you shot at shadows coming from the back.
"Bucky!" You couldn't see anything with the dirt flying in your eyes, brought up by the bullets finding the ground at your feet. And they just kept coming, like a black swarm of bees, clogging your vision until all you could do was lay down the trigger and hope a bullet catches.
Until one shadow, heavy and so warm, fell over you and you screamed, fighting with elbows and knees. But nothing got this man off you.
You couldn't see Bucky.
You couldn't breathe. With his hands around your neck, your vision was going black, dotting.
Something popped in your head, something slick and scorching hot splashing across your face.
When had you closed your eyes?
"Y/N!"
But something hurt in your ribs, something stinging across your flesh like lightning was slowly building beneath your skin.
You felt someone pull you into their arms, warm and steady chest meeting your cheek before you passed out.
But Bucky held on, running back to the jet, the breath in his lungs burning. He kept screaming your name, but you were out, bleeding from a wound in your ribs, bleeding and bleeding and the more he saw the red staining your suit, the faster Bucky ran.
When he got to the jet, no one had made it back yet. He could hear the faint pops of bullets behind him but he didn't care. He bolted for the med bay, laying your body down gently.
When had he started crying?
"FRIDAY?" he asked. After a beat of silence, "FRIDAY!!" His teeth bared, watched as the lights around the jet bolted to light and the AI came to life.
"Stab wound between rib 6 and 7, Mister Barnes," FRIDAY said, monotone.
"Can we fix it?" Bucky asked through gritted teeth. His hands had started shaking as he looked at you, fragile and bleeding and quiet.
"Yes, but we need to act now," FRIDAY answered.
"What can I do?" he asked, straightening, sniffing, eyes to the sky as if the AI was sentient. Oh wait. It was.
"Get the gauze," FRIDAY said. "I'll do the rest." Bucky scrambled to the cabinets, pulling them open, grabbing onto as much white fabric as he could see. By the time he turned around, FRIDAY was already stitching you up with Stark's mobile arm.
But you were still unconscious, lashes thick with tears, face so solemn and... pretty.
Bucky let the gauze fall to the table you were on. "You didn't really need this, right?" he asked.
"No," said FRIDAY. "I just needed you out the way."
Bucky snorted, for once actually felt something nice course through his veins. He gently patted your hair, moving thick strands behind your ear. He smeared the blood off your cheeks until they were clean again, tracing the outline of your cheekbones, your chin, your neck.
"She's waking up, sir," FRIDAY said lowly, and Bucky nodded, feeling relief when he saw you jostle. Feeling that dreadful fear lift from his ribs like smoke.
"Hey," he whispered, metal fingers in your hair as he watched your eyes flutter open.
"Mmm Bucky?" Your voice was thick. Even if you'd been out for merely 15 minutes, it felt like hours. "What?"
Bucky laughed, pressing his forehead to yours and completely basking in the fact that you were alive.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he said, stroking your hair, pressing his nose to yours.
He felt your hand trace his chin and he chuckled. "I'm so sorry," he whispered again. He pressed his mouth to your knuckles, watching your lips stretch into a smile.
"It's okay."
He shook his head, hiding hid mouth behind your palm. "No, I'm... I'm sorry about everything."
Your eyes glazed. "What?"
"About right now," he said, meeting your eyes with tear-stained lashes. "About two seconds ago. About an hour ago. About... two weeks and a month and three months when we..."
You reached up weakly. Stroked his face with your knuckles. "I know," you answered, smiling slowly. "I'm sorry too."
Again, he shook his head. "No. Y/n, it's... it's you." He brought his face closer to yours, as if he couldn't speak it into existence just yet. "It's always been you. And I was afraid, at first - "
"Bucky."
"No, let me finish," he insisted, tears brewing in his eyes, ready to spill. "I was afraid that if I let you in, I'd somehow hurt you. But now, watching you like this... I can't be here without you. Ever."
You smiled, rubbed your nose against his briefly. "I had to almost die to get that out of you?" you asked, ghosting your mouth over his, teasing him.
He shook his head but kissed you anyway, careful not to squish you or touch your wound. He kissed you so softly, so carefully, like you were made of glass, or shattered glass he'd put back together with store-bought glue.
When you heard the tale-tell sign of feet running up the deck of the jet, Bucky kissed your forehead and sat beside your bed, holding onto your hand until you were safely back home.
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btsbabe7 · 4 months
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November Prompt 18: Crown
Words: 594 | Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader
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There’s a surreal feeling that washes over you as you descend the castle stairs into the entrance of the Yule Ball. You hadn’t told a single soul about your date. In fact, as far as all your friends knew, you had no intentions of attending. But here you are in a pearly gown with silvery lace trim hand-sewn against the white silk. Your curly hair is styled in a slightly messy updo that you’d practiced for weeks until it was perfected, and a dainty, single emerald stone bracelet, gifted by your date clings to your right wrist. All the planning had finally led you to this very moment.
In the midst of the first dance coming to a close, an applause breaks through the room, then you spot your date breaking through the crowd. Heads turn and there seems to be whispering amongst the crowd, but not over the music. Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, Draco’s arm links around yours. A vest and bowtie accompany the snowy white button-up that hugs his thin torso. His platinum hair is parted perfectly down the side and tucked behind each ear to fully display his dashing features. He looks absolutely amazing, even more than he does on the day to day, if you do say so yourself. And soon, the gaze of other students follow the two of you through the crowd where Draco pulls you in close for a slow dance.
“Ignore the whispers,” he breathes, pulling your wandering gaze for your friends back to him. “You look beautiful tonight and I won’t let anyone ruin this for us.” His brows raise to make sure you understand and you smile softly and nervously.
You had planned to attend the ball with Draco almost a month ago in the secrecy of your meetings in the Astronomy Tower. If everything went as planned, the entire school would be in shock at the news of you and Draco attending together, despite the existing rumors of his growing crush on you. And the whispers tonight have proved just that. Even Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Dumbledore, the Headmaster himself, had done double takes when Draco’s arm reached out for you at the entrance moments ago.
“Draco,” you mutter softly, keeping your eyes on his to stay focused. “What do we do when they see? My friends, when they notice?”
He chuckles softly and pulls you closer, gently stroking your reddened cheek.
“Then let them notice. You look beautiful. You spent so much effort planning and perfecting the perfect. Just focus on this. Don’t let your crown slip.”
You smile widely at his comment and just because you’re happy to finally be in his arms in the midst of everyone. There’s whispers and stares and even pointing, but you stay focused on Draco. It all feels like a relief compared to the fear that came with sneaking out to meet in hiding in The Astronomy Tower every night. You know your friends are somewhere with their own dates and that their curiosity about you and Draco will soon be a topic of conversation, but none of that matters now in a place where you should feel the most confident.
Draco spins you around one last time at the close of the song, and with a smile, he caresses your cheeks.
“We’ll have the best night of our lives, my queen. I promise,” he breathes before placing a soft kiss on your forehead that leaves you grinning from ear to ear, and tonight, you truly feel like royalty.
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Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:
⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)
⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape
~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)
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Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡
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dollwritesarchive · 2 years
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𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 ⎹ 𝓑.𝓗.
fandom horror / brahms masterlist / @dollshorror-library
featuring brahms heelshire x chubby nanny!reader ( f! )
rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.
content warning dubcon, mention of head injury, rough fingering, squirting, brahms uses his little voice
summary you finally meet your ward
word count 3.1k / one shot
attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.
thanks so much @theluckychemist for another commission! ❤️
commission info & contact
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you were locked in a fierce staring match with the open window. the window that hadn’t been open when you had just come downstairs to retrieve your laundry from the machine. it was the same window that had been plaguing you for days. you would close it, only to have it open again the next time you walked by. it must be the vicious winds during the past week’s merciless thunderstorms that were forcing it open at first, but today didn’t make any sense.
today, there were no storms.
the sun was shining, and there was a gentle breeze; nothing strong enough to force the old window as wide as it was.
just looking at it now made you feel queasy; now that you knew it couldn’t have been the storm.
both hands tight on the grips of the laundry basket filled to the brim with your freshly washed, wet clothes, you had to crane your neck to look up at the latch. you wouldn’t be able to reach it, not even on your tip toes. if you stood on top of one of the chairs from the dining room, and still pushed yourself up on to the balls of your feet, you might be able to stretch and reach, but you weren’t chomping at the bit to test the durability of an old, wooden chair that has been around nearly as long as the manor itself.
with a huff, you drop the basket by your feet and careen around it, stomping over to the window. you push it closed with both hands, applying pressure until you hear a faint creak, and a soft click. “Now, stay shut.” you mumbled under your breath, wishing that it was sentient and would obey your orders. you take a step back, looking over the glass for another moment. it’s streaked with dirt from the outside, which has turned to mud and caked itself in place. you should probably wash it next, you thought as you hoofed it back to the basket, hauling it outside to the clothesline.
you had been worried that this gig would be boring— watching an old house, a porcelain doll, and being alone all the time, but you had severely underestimated how much there would be to do. it was as if the manor was a living being, always needing to be tended in some way. you found peculiar messes here and there that you could swear hadn’t been there only days before, and your list of chores never seemed to end.
and, to tell the truth, you didn’t feel all that lonely, either. surprisingly, you felt like sometimes the little doll that was upstairs at this moment could actually understand what you were saying when you rambled on to it. you told little Brahms everything about your life, and how relieved you were to have some peace and quiet here for once. the faux child had become so comforting that you had eventually stopped putting him to bed in his own room, and opted for cuddling with it at night. your bedroom was also where you would put him down for naps, as strange as that may sound to anyone but you, and that’s where he was now. lying on your pillow with a soft throw blanket tucked in around him.
you thought about the little thing as you stretched a skirt, clipping the hem to the line. you were only supposed to watch him for a few days, but it had already been well into the following month, and still the Heelshires hadn’t come home. the strangest part was that you hadn’t heard a peep— not a phone call, nor a text, not even a note. and yet? yet, every Friday, there was an envelope on the floor by the front door, appearing to have been dropped through the mail slot, containing your pay for the week. how they managed to be so punctual and still so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension.
a particularly pesky blouse had you wishing that you had another pair of arms as you wrestle it on to the line, a pair of clips clenched between your teeth, and as you were clipping one sleeve, you catch a glimpse of something, a blur fading over the window. it startles you, and with a gasp, you drop the other sleeve and the clips into the basket. it was just a bird, you tried to tell yourself, a healthy crow had flown in front of the glass and you’d only caught the reflection. however, when you squinted against the harsh sunlight, you see the window— that damned window, is open again. “You’re shitting me.” you expel in a scoff with a shake of your head.
that was it.
you were locking that damn thing.
your footsteps were thunderous as you practically leapt up on to the porch and flung the screen door open. it slammed behind you, a loud testament to your annoyance with only you there to witness it. you hooked your arm under the backrest of the chair in the dining room and dragged it across the flawless, wooden panels in the floor, the legs hissing as if they were displeased to be treated so carelessly. unfortunately for the furniture, you couldn’t care less. you were at your wit’s end with this fucking window.
you slammed it shut. determined it would be the final time.
angling the chair in front of it, you grasp the back to pull yourself up on to it, and the legs creak. you were certainly not confident that the rickety thing could support you, but you thought it best not to think about it. get up there, lock the window, get down.
standing on the very tips of your toes, you had to stretch your arm until it nearly ached, and even then, only your fingertips could brush the lock. “Come on,” you whisper, before biting down on your lip.
the chair creaks again.
“Dammit…” even trying to bounce, you couldn’t grab the lock. “Almost…” cautiously, you push yourself on to one foot, hoping to propel yourself high enough to push the rusted bolt into place, but you were unsteady to say the least, and the chair had reached its limit. one leg cracks under the weight, throwing you backwards like a bronco that had just bucked you off. you hadn’t even the time to scream before you felt the back of your head connect with the hard floor, a white, hot shot of pain, the wind knocked from your lungs, and then… nothing at all.
complete.
utter.
blackness.
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the first thing on your mind is how much your head hurts.
“Ah…” you groan, squinting as you reach for it. something pushes your hand away, and it falls limp. you expect it to hurt when your arm smacks against the floor, but that doesn’t happen. it hits soft, familiar warmth. your mattress? eyelids fluttering, you feel fingers, big ones with roughly calloused pads holding your chin, keeping your head angled. “Who…?”
“Shhh.” comes a soft voice. your lids part, your vision blurred, and you stare at a mass of red and white on the bedside table. it takes a moment for the haziness to fade, and you realize what you’re looking at. a bowl of water, tinted red, and a rag tossed over the rim, littered with red blotches. blood.
your blood.
your attention snaps from the bloodied rag to the body hunched over you. you smelled him long before you could make out his shape. it wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but the rather strong scent of sweat. you could feel his warmth— he was, after all, close enough to your limp frame.
“Who are you?” you blink, eyes trailing over the trousers, the damp, white undershirt strapped down with black suspenders. there’s a furious tufting of dark hair that sprouts from under the neckline, and it’s sparkling with beads of perspiration. “Who—“ you start to ask again, but your jaw hangs open as your eyes coruscate, higher and higher until you see his face.
no, not his face.
the doll’s face.
“Brahms?” it came out as a question, an incredulous one, although you already know it to be true, and the massive figure hesitates, before giving a little nod. he seemed to be inspecting the back of your head, you expected he had also cleaned the wound that must’ve been back there, if the bloodied water was any indication. “But… how—“
“It hurts?” you blink, startled. the voice is soft, childlike, and not at all what you would’ve expected from the mountain of a man lingering over you. “It still hurts?”
you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing on it uncertainly, but shake your head, glancing to the bowl again. “No… Brahms, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Did you tend to it?” another, shy nod. Brahms gently poses your head back on the pillow, and you resist the urge to wince. then, his rough digits fall to your neck, where they rest. “Thank you…”
he doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t move. he’s still hovered over you, fingers trembling against your throat, and you’re starting to notice how his chest rises and falls with heavy, muffled breathing behind the mask.
“Have… have you been hiding?” you ask, heart pounding against your chest, “All this time?”
“Mhm.” he answers, his fingertips dipping just under your neckline. they were timid to a certain extent, you could tell by the way he shook, but something else drove him to act beyond his sheepishness. starvation, perhaps? years without another person to touch. “But I don’t have to hide anymore.” he says, matter of factly, “Not from you. You didn’t leave me.”
“Brahms, I—“
“You’re mine.” those words sank deep into your bones, resonated like a pounding drum. his hand pushes deeper into your shirt, cradling your breast in his palm, and he lets out a blissful whine. you gasp, and reach for his wrist to stop him, but his other fist finds yours and pins it to the pillow above your head. “Mine.” he says again, this time much more desperate as he kneads your breast, snorting like a wild animal already. “Mine.”
you don’t want to moan, but you can’t help yourself. it feels good, despite Brahms’ roughness, and you whine as you squirm under his weight.
“Mine…” he moans, too, only fueled by your soft, heavenly sound, and squeezes harder, pulling at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger, “Mine!” only a moment later, he has your shirt ruffled up over your chest and tucked under your chin, exposing both of your breasts, and he’s straddling your legs to keep them down, both hands now focused on your heaving chest.
you’re confused, lost, because you know that you should fight back— try to push him off, at least, but you don’t. your arms stay where they are, up by your head, and your back arches when he gropes you particularly roughly. it had been a while since you’d been touched like this. “Brahms!” you gasped, breathless, “Easy, I’m sensitive…” but that only seemed to spur him to grab you more roughly, squeezing your supple skin in palms that felt like sandpaper until you’re writhing.
and his shoulders are bunched together, leaned forward to rub the porcelain mask against your bare flesh, inhaling deep so that he may smell the sweet aroma of your flesh through it, nesting the nose in your cleavage. “Please…” you mumble, but now you’ve soaked through your panties, just letting this strange man grab on you, and you no longer knew what you were begging for.
“Beg me,” Brahms grunted, husky, as he scooted off your legs, grasping the waistband of your pants and panties simultaneously to pull them down, too. “Beg me again!”
with your head spinning, you start to bring your knees up in defense once you’re bare from the waist down, but he grasps your ankles and pulls them straight, spreading your thighs with his knees to give him enough space to sit in between them. “Bra—hms—“ you stutter, uncertain, your hands shaking against the pillow behind your head. “P—please…”
he moans again, pathetic and soft, as if just hearing you say his name was edging him, and he cups your sticky sex with one, large paw. his movements are uncouth and base, driven by instinct alone. he forces one, thick finger into you without so much as a bat of an eyelash, and he whines into your chest, feeling just how warm and wet you are on the inside. “Feels good…” before you could even protest, another finger has joined the first, stretching you open. your nails dig into the fabric of the pillow and you cry out, squinting against the sensation. “So good!” Brahms mewls, pumping both of them knuckle deep. he doesn’t bother with being gentle— in fact, you didn’t think he could even if he wanted to, because every sound that you make is driving him crazier and crazier. “You… sound…. So pretty. Wanna hear more. I need more.” he’s mumbling to himself as he drives his fingers into you deeper, harder, trying to force the sounds from your throat.
“S—slow down, please!” you cry in desperation, eyes wide and focused on the dark ceiling. all of the tenderness of your skull fades to make room for the brutal finger fucking you’re getting. one of your hands flee to grab his wrist and try to force him into a slower rhythm, but he refuses, pumping even harder. “Too much!”
“I can’t.” Brahms whines, laying against your body until the smooth mask is smushed against your cheek. you can hear him now, breathing ragged and moaning, soaking your body with his sweat. “I can’t… Need to hear you…!”
if he hadn’t been pressing you into the mattress, you would’ve been thrown about the sea of blankets like a lifeless, rag doll with just how powerful his barrage to your sex was. your knees come up again, digging into his sides, trying to push him off, but he’s so much stronger than you that you can hardly believe it. the primal beast curls his fingers and you nearly come out of your skin. they’re just lengthy enough, and reach deep enough, to caress your sweet spot. you whimper, mouth hanging open. “That’s—“ you try to speak, but your mind goes blank.
that’s the spot.
keep going.
you don’t say the words, but luckily you don’t have to. the muscles in his arm tightens, and he drives those cruel fingers into the same spot, relentlessly, until you’re practically in tears. there’s a hard, thick lump in his trousers that he’s rubbed against you until he starts to soak through them, moaning and pleading, calling for you. you can imagine he’s already cum himself, just from fingering you. the thought alone is enough to turn your stomach, and somehow push you closer to your own downfall.
he wasn’t skillful, not in the slightest, but he was eager, and he knew the jackpot when he found it.
you can hear the sound of your cunt gushing before he’s even pulled back to marvel. a whiny, “Wait!” escapes your swollen lips, as if begging yourself not to come undone, but it was much too late for that. you were already swept away, your pent up frustration exploding in the form of a waterfall that drenches him from chest to groin when he sits back on his calves. you imagine it’s to marvel at you as you squirt for him; you can’t imagine he’s ever seen that before, and even through your slitted lids, you can see his eyes in the dark holes of the mask, as big as saucers. staring. your countenance scrunches in humiliation, but he’s still pumping his fingers, pushing your buttons from the inside, so you just keep spewing. “Brahms!” you cry, nails digging into his wrist, your body pushing itself in an arc off the bed, levitating, trying to escape him. “I— can’t—!”
you’re spent when he finally slows down, and you fall back against the bed and struggle to catch your fleeting breath, your whole body a sea of shivers and shakes. his head dips with a happy whimper, and he smears the expressionless mask over your dripping cunt, coating the porcelain in your cum. “Do it again.” he whines, amazed, nuzzling. you can hear his lips smacking, and you assume he’s managed to lap at some as it finds its way beneath the mask. “Please do it again. It’s… so yummy…” mortification begins to overtake the temporary bliss of your powerful orgasm and you’re stunned with it, face on fire as you listen to him beg for you to cum again.
“I… I can’t…”
“Why?” he sounds heartbroken.
swallowing hard, your shaking hands rest against the top of his head, digits combing through wild, chocolate tendrils. they’re damp with sweat— and, maybe your slick, as well— when you pet them, he seems to croon into your caress. “B—because… doing that makes me really tired.” you try to explain, convincing yourself that you’re not going to simply pass away from embarrassment. but gods, you felt like you would. “I have to… rest before I can do that again.”
his head snaps up at that, so abruptly that you jump, too, pulling your hands back. you were worried you’d done something he didn’t like. “But you will do it again, won’t you?”
you considered that question.
your stomach bunched up in knots.
“I—“
he nods, as if answering for you, snaking both big and powerful arms around your waist as he hugs your midriff tight, resting the side of his head against your navel. “You can only do that with me from now on. Until forever. Do you promise? You have to promise.”
“I… promise…”
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makooo0stuff · 10 months
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hi!! i was wondering if you could write a miles X male! Reader.. where the reader has a feminine name ( I have an oc named clementine.. that’s a guy as an example) and whenever he talks about him; everyone thinks they’re hearing him wrong until the day comes where miles introduces his boyfriend to the group of spiders he hangs around & his parents
Absolutely! That's honestly so adorable me and my boyfriend love this req
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Pretty Boy 💛
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Pairing: Miles Morales x Male! Reader
Fandom: Across the Spiderverse
CW: Y/N is used, reader has social anxiety, pet names. (Mi vida, My boy.)
A/N: Set towards the beginning of astv at Miles' dad's party (but things go well)
Give this song a listen if you'd like!
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Today was the day you were finally going to meet Miles' parents, although the two of you had been together for several months you never necessarily met either his mother or father.
You sat inside your bedroom staring up anxiously at the ceiling, you brought your hands to your chest, squeezing them gently. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh. "It's gonna be fine Y/N, It'll be perfectly fine..." You muttered to yourself, you brought your hands up to your face and sighed.
Your phone buzzed next to you, laying face down on the matress. You picked it up and glanced at the screen, the blue light illuminated on your face. Miles' contact name and pictures popped up. 'My boy <3' You smiled and unlocked your phone; eagerly reading the text from him.
'Hola, mi chico guapo <3 My parents are still hosting the party tonight, you still coming?' Miles' text showed up, You couldn't help but smile a bit.
'Yeah, I'll see you tonight at the party.' You quickly texted back. You couldn't help but smile, Miles made you feel so loved.
You got ready putting on something nice but comfortable; nothing too overdressed either. You decided on something nice looking and then headed over to Miles'. Once you arrived the party was lively, people eating and talking to each other. You stood off to the side looking down anxiously, no idea where your boyfriend was.
Finally after standing off to the side you spotted your boyfriend walk through the door, He carried two big cake boxes and bee-lined straight to you. "Mi vida.." Miles said pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "C'mon Mi novio let's go say hi to my parents.." He took a quick breath and set the cakes down, the two of you looked for his parents before they found you.
"Mijo, Who is this? Is this that girl you've told us about, Y/N?" Rio questioned, her arm interlocked with Jeff's.
"Mami no, esto es mi novio Y/N." Miles corrected his mother as you stood next to him anxiously.
You waved at Jeff and Rio before gaining the courage to speak up. "Hello Mr and Mrs. Morales, It's so nice to finally meet you." You spoke, giving them a small smile.
Rio smiled back at you "Y/N right? When Miles told us about you the first time we thought he was speaking loco, But it's very nice to meet you. Welcome to the Morales familia." She smiled at you, she understood you had the best intentions with Miles.
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Here are all the español translations!
Mijo - My son
Mi vida - My life
Mi novio -My boyfriend
Hola, mi chico guapo - Hi my pretty/handsome boy
Mami no, esto es mi novio - Mom no, this is my boyfriend
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©️ makooo0stuff, do not copy my work or alter in anyway without my permission .
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