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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 days

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If You Have Something To Say (Mouse series) - Max Verstappen

Summary: With Max being hit with a new wave of hate as a result of his wins, fans suddenly take a turn on y/n and Max makes it clear that he won't tolerate anyone who has any comments to make about his quiet girlfriend

Max might be a little bias. He obviously thinks y/n is perfect and that there is no possible way people can dislike her.

But when she went completely silent even towards him part way through the day, he wasn't sure what had happened. On rare occasion she might go silent when she doesn't feel way or she's done something to embarrass herself and doesn't want to address it.

"Hey, mouse." Max smiles pulling his helmet off and kissing her softly. "Can you go to the unit? We'll be getting out of here pretty quickly so I want you to be ready to go."

Y/n nods still not uttering a word before she stands up and rushes from the garage while GP appears for the quick debrief Max requested over the radio.

"Everyting ok?"

"I think she might not be feeling well. I want to get back to the hotel quickly." Max sighs shaking his head before gesturing for them to have a look at the data and discussing plans for FP3.

By the time he gets to her it's been a longer wait than he intended but with no media he can get them straight out of there and to the hotel without much issue.

He doesn't push her to talk as he keeps a tight grip on her hand as they walk through the paddock to leave or even when they're in the car with a drive in the driver's seat. But eventually they're walking into the hotel suite and he sighs watching her throwing her phone down onto the bed.

"Mouse..." Max starts catching her attention and seeing the bloodshot eyes and he almost trips at the speed he moves forward to look at her. "What's wrong? Why are you upset?"

Y/n only manages to take a couple short and stuttered breaths in before tears actually appear.

"I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong. Please talk to me...even if it's just a couple words so I know." Max panics, not just wanting but needing to be able to do whatever he can to stop her from being so upset. "Mouse please? I want to make everything better."

"I keep getting tagged in posts about-about how much people hate me." Y/n hiccups knowing she sounds pathetically childish. If you're going to be a WAG you have to take hate on the chin. Especially if she wants to be in a relationship with Max, one of the most hated drivers.

"Can you show me?" Max asks since he knows there's only more hurt and upset that can come from forcing her to tell him what people are actually saying.

Y/n picks up her phone and hands it to him hitting Twitter first before he flicks over to her Instagram tags and even on TikTok, which he doesn't personally spend a lot of time on but he knows y/n actually loves watching edits of him. On more than one occasions she's squeaked being caught in the act of watching them but it's definitely amusing from his end.

But all the posts and comments that she's tagged in are saying that she's rude and stuck up and the fact she won't talk to anyone isn't because she's just quiet and shy but because she thinks she's better than everyone. Especially the other drivers and even more towards the mechanics and lower paid jobs within the team.

"What a joke." Max mutters then sighing as he looks at y/n who is sniffling and wiping at tears that are still falling. "They don't even know you, Mouse. They have no idea who you are and they don't get to comment about it."

"I know." Y/n hiccups as Max moves back to her and just hugs her tightly, resting his chin on top of her head as she tries to calm herself down. "But people think that's how I am."

"They're just trying to get at you because I love you and they like to ruin nice things." Max whispers hating that he's really the source of this. He's why she'll get hate and even if every driver and every person in the team told the world that y/n is not stuck up and she's just shy and quiet. They wouldn't believe it because they believe what they want to believe even if it's entirely conspiracy and has no real evidence. "I'm sorry, mouse. This is my fault."

"No."

"They're just trying to hurt you because you're dating me." Max cements shaking his head before he kisses the top of her head, still holding her tightly. "I'll try and fix this."

"It'll probably just make it worse."

That's true. Usually as soon as you feed into their agenda the fans are like pirañas. If they know what they're trying to do to upset someone is working, they'll make it a point to really go in on that method of causing upset.

"I'm just going to private all my accounts and delete the apps for a bit." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh since she shouldn't have to do that just to try and take care of herself and stop herself from seeing the unwarranted attacks on her character from fans.

"I'm still going to tell them to stop." Max sighs then looking down. "Do you want to order room service?"

"All the desserts?"

"Yeah mouse, all the desserts." Max smiles lightly since if there's one thing that does make y/n happy it's sugar. Which is understandable because who doesn't love the comfort that a sugar buzz brings.

He does manage to cup her face and get a few kisses before reaching and grabbing the room service menu. He'll be doing the ordering but he definitely needs her to see what she wants before he calls for it.

Max and his team along with the Red Bull team all put out statements telling the world to stop making comments and digitally harassing y/n. She didn't see any of it, since she went through with her plan to just go off grid for a bit.

But there was certainly chatter about Max's out of character move to essentially tell everyone to shut the fuck up.

"Hey, mate. Everything alright?" Daniel asks as they stand together in the driver's parade. "I saw a lot of statements coming out. Is y/n ok?"

"Not really. The things they've been saying about her are just bullshit, they're making stuff up and they don't even know her." Max huffs shaking his head. "She knows it's not true but everyone saying it is just upsetting her that she thinks people really believe that stuff about her."

"That's rough." Daniel winces since he recalls Lando's girlfriend getting whole hate pages and ultimately it cost them their relationship because he couldn't handle putting her through that amount of hate.

Y/n is much more soft natured and even Daniel has a limited recall of how many times he even knows for certain that he's heard her voice. Initially he was actually a little offended till he realised everyone get such treatment in general. The fact he'd even heard her voice was a sign that she actually didn't hate him or fear being around him.

"Is she at the race today?"

"Yeah, but I've told her to just stick to watching in the unit. I think it's better if she just stays away from cameras as much as possible. The less attention on her the better hopefully."

After the parade, Max heads over to unit quickly just wanting to check on her one last time before he's gotta stay out in the garage and take the car out on track.

"Hey, mouse. You look comfortable." Max laughs since she's somewhat got the unit to herself. Definitely the room to view the race with the biggest screen in the unit.

"I am." Y/n smiles as he leans down to kiss her softly. "I didn't think you'd be coming back."

"I just want to check on you."

Y/n smiles before he nods mumbling for her to wish him luck though her expression gives him a silent message of "don't pretend you need a wish of good luck" and he steals another kiss before jogging back out the unit.

It's not exactly comforting for him to have to feel the need to step in when she is receiving hate all because of her connection with him. But Max will always protect his mouse. She's his world and honestly he really thinks if she wanted to stop coming to races he'd quit just to follow her wherever she wanted to be.

If she left him because of the hate, oh he'd make every driver and fans worst nightmare come true of really bringing back Mad Max. Anyone who crossed him whether it being in practice, qualifying or a race. He'd do whatever to ruin their race. Hell he'd probably go out of his way to ruin the entire field's race...aside from Yuki, maybe he'd like to have Yuki up there.

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angelltheninth · 3 days

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No Longer Virgin Training

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation instructions, size kink, name-calling, objectification, degradation, virginity kink, creampie, rough sex

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: Toji thoughts came back full force today.

He always said he'd be your first everything. So far he was, your first boyfriend, first kiss, first wet dream, first love, first man to give you an orgasm. Tonight he would be the first man to fuck you.

"You didn't think I'd make it easy for you did you? It's like you don't know me at all." When the clothes came off you thought he do it, instead he said, "Only good sluts get a cock. Show me how ready you are to be my slut." He knelt between your legs, watching your fingers go in and out of your pussy, "I won't take it easy on you just cause mine is the first cock you'll get."

"I don't care. I want you to make yours, please Toji. Make me all yours." You pushed your legs further apart, pinching your nipple as you begged.

"Yeah, is that what you want baby? You want to be by cute little cockslut? You do, I know you do, it's the only thing you're good for after all." Toji hissed as he ran his thumb over the broad tip of his cock. He was getting impatient. "Tell me how much you want this cock. You're always drooling after it, fucking every toy you get your hands on just hoping that it'll feel good. That makes me happy, that means your hole is more than ready for the real deal."

Your fingers stopped to spread your pussy open for him.

"I am, I'm ready for you. Please, I want you to make yours, teach me how to be a good slut for you." Toji barked out a rough laugh at your words. He was so lucky to have a cute girlfriend like you, one so eager to be his that she will do or say anything. That was how much you loved him. Still you were a tiny bit scared when his fat cock pushed against your opening.

"Nothing to be nervous about, this cunt of yours already knows who owns it. It can take me." His big hands massaged your thighs as he pushed forward in one thrust, sheathing his full girth inside of you. Your legs kicked out at the intrusion, "Breathe, it's alright, this is what you were made for."

"What I was... oh God... so big... is it all the way in?" You kept your eyes on his, hands on his biceps so you could stay grounded.

He nodded, pulling back so you could feel the lack of him, the difference, "I told you there was nothing to worry about. You took it all, my pretty girl, just like I wanted you to." Without warning he pushed forward again, setting a brutal pace. "See? See how you take it so easily! That because your body knows it's purpose, your pussy knows it was made to be filled with my cock. The first and only cock it'll ever experience!"

You tried to tell him you feel the same way, you wanted to be the only one for him. But you couldn't get the words out, the pleasure too overwhelming, the noises you were making so unlike those a sweet looking girl like you would make, his cock and balls making your pussy so sloppy, so eager to take him.

"Not enough for you yet. No, your pussy needs more, it needs to know what it feels like when you come around a real cock." Toji leaned in close, licking the shell of your blushing ear, "And what it feel like to have when you're full of cum, when it's flooding your womb!"

"Cum?" You felt your body shake with anticipation.

"It's only right you have your first creampie too." Warm liquid painted your inner walls as Toji held you close, "Take it, show me you can be a good cumdump. It'll give it to you every day if you can do that for me."

You didn't quite know how to do this other then to come right after him, show him you want more. "More, Toji, all of it." You pleaded with teary eyes, only soothed by his kiss.

"That's my good slut." He had you like he wanted you, no matter what happens he will take care of you.

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lessi-lover · 3 days

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teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader ~

(did you miss me cause i missed you) maybe a series 😉 ... but you'll never know? #even pests need love!

23 ★ ~ k.cooney-cross x russo!reader

your sister smirked cheekily as she expertly dribbled the ball past your much smaller legs, slotting it effortlessly in the net a laugh falling from her curled lips as she turned back to see you flinging your head back in defeat.

"lessi please can we play something else? football is so boring!" you groaned, tugging on your sister's arm before she went to collect the ball to play again. "i dare hear those words come out your mouth again! or you'll be banned from movie night, you hear me!" she threatened with a wag of her finger.

the blonde knew just how much you loved movie night, lately it had become one of her many threats to her easily gullible enough sister once she realised how she could manipulate so simply. she didn't really have that kind of power but it was fun for your older sister to feel as high and mighty as her older brothers seemed to be.

your older sister who would make you run around the garden until you both collapsed on the ground in tired smiles, your mother calling out from inside that dinner was ready, the older woman chuckling as she watched you finally catch a breath.

your older sister who would pick your tiny frame off the ground and into her arms as she carried you inside to the table, shaking you out of your sleep as you dozed of in her hold. your older sister who would beg you to join the games night after dinner she had planned for weeks only to fall asleep in your bed the second you dragged her off to your room.

it was safe to say being the youngest russo was easily the most dangerous spot at the table, although your older siblings always argued that the love you recieved as the last grandchild was surely enough to make up for the countless unwanted tackles and jabs you copped from them.

being dubbed as "the nice one" you tried your best to stay out of the russo family wrestling matches, seemingly always the first to attempt breaking your older brothers out of quite literally clashing each others heads together, your older sister only spurring them on as she cheered from beside a worried you.

"go gio go! watch out for his arms you git!" she would squeal moving to jump on top of the sofa quickly out of the way as luca grabbed his younger brother in a headlock, the both of them rolling around all over the floor.

sure you and alessia fought not much differently to your brothers and not much differently to those of your friends, when the older girl would force you to play football with her for hours on end, as she sliced the ball past you almost taking your head with it.

and sure the england forward could make you think twice before telling her your weekend plans to see some of your mates when she would then proceed to show up with her own friends blasting the loudest music you'd ever heard. a shout from her car that "your lift had arrived!" embarrassing you to no end as she cheekily waved you over.

it was not long after that incident that you got your finally your own car three years later and suddenly your lifts from the older blonde were not required, so the blonde had decided you now needed to have a coffee date every sunday to catch up with her younger sister.

although a childhood friend of hers always tagged along and that saved you enough to not have to hear her boastful stories in your ear ever five seconds, though you claimed the older girl hyped herself up just to get on your nerves.

and even if the clumsy girl could be the biggest pain in your ass on a good day, you really did love your her and people would say the two of you would do anything for each other, to the ends of the earth they would say.

but she really could be a pain in your ass.

like right now.

"alessia i know how to be an adult! i don't need you on my ass every five seconds!" you seethed. crossing your arms moodily over your chest, ignoring her offer of a piece of gum and focussing on the cars speeding past.

"helicopter parent you are." you mumbled under your breath, smacking away her attempt to give you a hug with a huff. "i heard that!" she whined, giving you an amused smile as she continued driving home.

you sighed looking out the window, your eyes following the curves and edges of each familiar house as you drove past. "okay i'm sorry. can you forgive me!" she grinned with a pout, gripping your wrist over the console as she dragged out her words.

"fine but only because i owe you a coffee and this will cover the cost." you answered begrudgingly, pinching her arm to let go as the blonde let out a cheer and turned the volume of the music up.

you had never enjoyed football growing up, you knew your interests lay elsewhere from a young age. so whilst your siblings played rough house with each other in the garden, you preferred to spend time on your own. tucked away inside with a book often whilst your mother made dinner, the older woman listening to any and every thought of your for hours on end.

and as your siblings weekends began filling with games and tournaments, you now sat in the crowd still buried in your book, head lifting every so often when you would hear your father's loud cheers. different matches every saturday, travelling to the far ends of the country to support your siblings, but no matter how far you were always there for them.

when your sister had made the move over to states, you'd missed her greatly and if it wasn't for your brothers convincing that you needed to focus on your studies you were confident you would have nearly failed your last exams.

it wasn't long before you finished your final exams that you made the decision to move over to london to start your career in the business world. suddenly things began to become clearer, you knew your path lay elsewhere from your siblings.

your passion for business and entrepreneurship had been a driving force throughout your studies, and the opportunity to start your career in london was too good to pass up.

you'd of course settled in easily to the busy life of living in london, smoothly finding your feet as you were quick to immerse yourself in the fast work environment, joining a large company which offered you the chance to learn from experienced entrepreneurs.

now back to present day, you still hadn't taken your older sisters advice to finally take being part of a footballing family in your stride and you were still adamant that your days of kicking footballs with the blonde in the garden were long behind you.

it was through your company that you were able to secure a job at adidas by leveraging your experience from your previous company and network in the business world.

your reputation for innovative thinking and partnerships caught the attention of adidas' acquisition team, who were seeking fresh individuals for their corporate division. it was only after a series of successful collaborations which drove impactful projects, you were offered a high role within the company.

however things looked a lot different now, your sister had now finally moved back from the states and moved through the ranks to what she described as one of the top teams in europe, her training grounds only a mere fifteen minute drive from your apartment.

but given your new company's strong connections with many football teams, you found yourself collaborating with arsenal, or more familiar to you; your sisters club.

failing to realise how much of a pain your sister still was you had offered to help coordinate an event for the team, told by your marketing director to bring your skills to the table.

"right we're here grumpy pants, do you want my jacket in the back? bloody freezing this morning." she grumbled, zipping up her own jacket as she turned the engine off.

"no i'll be fine thanks." you replied, giving your sister a cheeky smile as you stepped out of the car. you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck and looked around at the different fields.

"you look so funny!" you giggled, tugging on your sisters clothing all branded by her club. "oh shush." she hummed, playfully swatting your hands away with a smile. "you're just as annoying as i remember!" she grinned down at you, the blonde easily a few feet taller than you.

"can't say i don't remember younger you at all!" you said sarcastically. pulling up your phone to show her your lock screen, your background a photo of the two of you in the backseat of the car, probably driving off to one of her games out west.

you laughed all the way into the building, unable to contain yourself when the forward pushed on a so clearly labeled pull door and smashed into the glass, causing her to almost topple over.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, trying to stifle your laughter as as a red mark appeared on her forehead, your sister with a pout on her face. "oh less." you chuckled, watching as your sisters frown deepened.

you reached out to inspect the mark, still trying not to laugh as much as you wanted to. "stop laughing!" she whined, looking a little embarrassed as she made eye contact with her teammates coming through the entrance. "it was an accident okay! my heads sore now."

"okay sorry, i'm sorry!" you apologised, finally able to suppress your giggles. "do you need ice or something?" you asked, pulling the clumsy girl off the floor. "i'll be alright, come on let's go inside."

"well good morning miss russo times two!" you bumped into lotte as you arrived, all of you entering the building at the same time. "lotts!" you squealed, jumping into the older girls arms as she lifted you off the ground.

"tiny! haven't seen you in ages, how's london treating you then?" she asked. the three of you fell into conversation as if no time had passed since you'd seen your sister's best friend.

"but i won't forget the time you made me pick you and gracie up from the dock, the two of you were completely shit faced!" she laughed, reminding you of the time you and a couple of friends maybe not so accidently drank way too much at a party and drunkenly called lotte to uber you home.

"my learning curve was thinking beer and liquor would mix nicely." you winced, thinking back to the hours after the party that lotte spent holding your hair back as you emptied your stomach. "fun night that was." in hindsight it probably wasn't the best start to your last year at school, but it was an easy excuse to not ever get that drunk again.

"yeah pretty fun night until i was woken up in the middle of the night to you and lotte at my window." your sister grumbled, clearly not as amused by the memory as you and lotte. she shrugged her jacket off up in her locker whilst you sat down on the bench.

"oh don't be a grub. can't forget when you and tooney had big night down in london." you chuckled, referring to the time her and the mancunian came home at four in the morning after having taken their first night out in the city.

"mum's got the patience of a saint." the two of you shared a look at that before bursting into a fit of laughter. pulling yourself up from the bench to grab your sister into a tight hug, your bond ran so deep. "i missed this tiny." she spoke into your hair, not missing beth's smile over your shoulders.

"oi russo who's the new lass?" a girl you recognised from your sisters instagram walked over, as you broke away from the hug. "katie meet my sister, she's here on behalf of adidas for a marketing event." the blonde introduced you as a few more girls floated into the locker room.

"nice to meet ya." she smiled, her accent thick as ever. "likewise." you answered, easily falling into a conversation about what you did at college, the irish girl interested in your role at the company.

lotte and alessia shared a look as they too fell into check as katie sat down with you. you watched as katie grinned over your head, clearly smiling at another teammate as you heard them behind you. "look who finally showed!" she chuckled as three girls entered the room, one of them tucking themself into her side.

you couldn't help but let your eyes draw to the youngest of the three as they put their stuff down, there was something captivating about her energy and you couldn't quite place it. that or the fact that she was easily the closest in age to you and downright the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

caught in your thoughts, you barely even noticed the look that your sister and lotte shared over your head. "awfully chipper this morning, love." she joked as the girl grumpily rested her head onto katie's shoulder, seemingly not have had a great sleep last night. "not my fault dean was away and steph can't handle the pest on her own." she mumbled tiredly, glaring at a younger girl who you gathered was sitting next to steph who looked equally as tired.

"this is cait, arsenal superstar, australian international and most importantly my girlfriend." katie explained, kissing the top of caitlin's head before a hand pushed her face away. "shut up," caitlin giggled as she pulled herself closer.

"hi i'm caitlin nice to meet you, you're alessia's sister aren't you?" she spoke and you nodded back. "yeah that's me." you smiled, shaking her hand as she extended it. "less hasn't stopped talking about you all week, think she's more excited i'm here than i am," you chuckled.

"only good things i hope!" katie said back as your sister sat back down next to you. "mostly good things." you teased as alessia swatted your arm. "tiny best get a move on before those two show you a washing demo!" lotte said, patting your head hearing you laugh.

"not a pest." the younger girl grinned as she came back, arms firmly crossed as she moved across the room, flicking both katie and caitlin. "such a pest" caitlin groaned, as she winked at you.

"you must be kyra." you deduced, recognising the unmistakable australian accent, your sister having described the girls when you met for coffee earlier this week.

"one and only! you're less' sisters aren't you, been looking forward to meeting you." she smirked and caught off guard you couldn't help but blush at her forwardness, but before your cheeks could redden further you caught katie's eyes as she grinned.

but your attention was quickly elsewhere as kyra pulled steph's bun out of it's elastic before grabbing her in a headlock. "quick take it!" kyra shrieked as steph tried to grab her, her hand brushing yours as she tried to give you the elastic.

the australian so easily drew you in like a moth to a flame as her touch lingered on your hands sending a shiver down your spine as you heard her laugh, you couldn't help but wonder if she had done it intentionally.

you felt your breath get caught in your throat as your cheeks once again reddened and you struggled to stay focussed on what your sister was saying. kyra grasped for help with her attractive smile as steph took her down on the floor, the blonde begging for your help as your connected hands brought you both crashing to the ground.

pulling yourself off the blonde you sat up against the wall, herself with a smug grin as you were left alone on the ground. steph having been fed up and walked off the rest of the girls still conversing after a long two weeks apart.

"well, seems we have made friends with the floor." she giggled and you knocked your arm against her with a smile. "seems so." you agreed, the two of you falling into conversation.

perhaps it was the blondes cheeky smile that lured you towards her, or maybe it was the way she seemed so eager to meet you, or even the way her fingers so easily grazed over your own or the warmth that disappeared with them.

#woso #woso x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #woso community #woso blurbs

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reidssluttywaist · 2 days

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Spencer's lap.

In which you grind against your boyfriend.

fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.

tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.

a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.

You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!

Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.

Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.

You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.

"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.

"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.

"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.

"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.

"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.

"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.

You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.

"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.

You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.

"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.

"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.

You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.

The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.

Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.

Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.

"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.

"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.

"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.

Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.

"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.

You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.

"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.

That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.

Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.

"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.

Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.

"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.

"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.

"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.

"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.

"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.

He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.

He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.

"That was so good" He whispers to you.

"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.

"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.

He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.

You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid oneshot smut

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macabr3-barbi3 · 1 day

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dream a little dream (of me) - chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/140496796

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You were bound to break a term of the deal eventually, right?

we've hit chapter 3! I got a huge influx of people interested and loving this story and I finally got the inspiration and drive to bang the next chapter out for everyone 🤭 there's going to be more coming, I do as the brain commands lol

A big shoutout to @fraugwinska for being like my number 1 hype person on this fic, you are a godsend 💕

And for those who asked to be tagged when the new chapter went up! @spottypug @dennsfz @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Same tags as chapter 1/2 plus a couple new ones: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, blowjobs, 'punishment' wink wink, minor injuries, let me know if I missed anything lol

I love comments and feedback, I would love to know what you think ❤️ enjoy!

The shock on Husk’s face at seeing you inside Alastor’s room when the door flies open a few days after the camping trip is matched only by yours- the horror you’re sure is written in your expression at the pool of blood accumulating under Alastor’s body where Angel Dust is supporting him with an arm around his waist, a smoking gash across his middle.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

“What the fuck happened?”

You speak at the same time, voices overlapping as Husk shoves the door to the room further open to make room for Angel to drag Alastor inside. He’s also coated in blood down one side, likely having been supporting Alastor’s weight from the other side to drag him up the stairs.

Alastor’s eyes are clenched shut, smile more like a grimace as he snarls at Angel Dust trying to get his feet underneath himself. “I do not need any assistance, spider, release me-”

“Sure, Smiles, tell me all about it. Ya can’t even fuckin’ stand up without ya gangly ass legs collapsin’, how else were we supposed to get ya here?” Angel has also just noticed your presence in the room as you rush over, pleased smirk taking over his features. “I fuckin’ told you there was somethin’ goin’ on with them, Husk!”

“Shut the hell up, Angel,” Husk mutters, grabbing Alastor by the ankles and helping the other demon get him to the bed, despite Alastor fighting like a wild cat the whole time. You follow closely, hovering anxiously next to the mattress. They drop him unceremoniously, causing him to hiss in pain before the wound starts gushing again. “You,” Husk says, fluffy finger pointed in your face. “You stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuckin’ bleed out or anything. Angel, you go tell Charlie and Vaggie what happened. I’ll get the med kit.”

“Wait, Husk” you say as he and Angel both step away, and there’s a hard grip on your wrist from Alastor when you start to follow them. “Just one sec,” you tell the demon- a great idea, with how known he was for his patience and understanding- and pull out of his grasp, hurrying after the other two. You catch Husk at the door, Angel taking off to find Charlie. “What happened to him?”

“Got into it with Vox, what else? Those fuckin’ overlord meetings are just trouble waitin’ to happen if you ask me, never would’ve caught my ass at one of them.” He runs a frustrated hand down his face. “We couldn’t get much out of his besides that, figured it would be best to get him to his room before anyone else saw him stumblin’ around the lobby.”

“Fuck.” You glance over at him, splayed across the mattress, an arm over his eyes. “Can’t he heal on his own? I thought regeneration was all the rage down here.”

“He’s been fucked since that battle with Adam- angelic steel right to the chest, did something to his body and he doesn’t heal as quick anymore. Some stitches should get him right for at least a little while.” A dark eye watches you from Husk’s peripheral. “I don’t know what you’re doing gettin’ all buddy-buddy with him but you watch yourself. We’re not all fuckin’ stupid- somethin’s up, we saw the goddamn vampire bite on your neck after camping-”

“Are there vampires in Hell?”

“Not the goddamn point. The point is be careful and don’t fuck anyone else over in the process of whatever the hell you two’re doing.” He points back into the bedroom. “Now go stand guard or whatever you do until I can stitch him up.” Husk is off then, jogging in the opposite direction that Angel had gone. You leave the door unlocked and cracked so he can get back in when he returns and go back to Alastor’s side in the bed.

His face is sweaty, eyes still clenched shut in pain, but one of his ears perks back up when he hears you come closer. “Pay no mind to those idiots,” he mutters. “I will be perfectly fine in a matter of hours. Do not let them back in.” He waves a hand lazily, the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Yeah the smoking hole in your chest gives me a lot of confidence to that. I’m not going to stop them from helping you.” You hesitate only a second before reaching out to his shirt buttons. “Let me- you’ll need this off for Husk to stitch you up.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you undo the buttons and slide the shirt sideways as carefully as possible to clear some space for the cat to work. You brush against his ribs and there’s a sharp inhale, Alastor’s nostrils flaring and claws digging into the sheets.

There’s a knock at the door and when you move to go open it there’s again a hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stay,” Alastor says, looking like it pains him to say it. A strip of shadow darts across the room to open the door in your stead, Husk coming back through the frame and raising an eyebrow at the sight of you still seated beside the demon.

“Charlie and Vaggie know what happened and will check on you tomorrow. Angel went to shower. Let’s get this fuckin’ over with.” He settles on the other side of you, and Alastor releases his grip on your hand to clench them into the bedsheets as Husk starts to drag the needle through his skin.

A good bit of swear words and a loosely wrapped bandage later, Alastor is patched up and passed out on his mattress. “Where did you learn to do stitches?”

“I don’t know, not really. Winged it. Just knew he wouldn’ want anyone else to see him like he is now. Vulnerable; weak. Benefit to him to have me under his thumb, I can’t run my fuckin’ mouth or use it against him.” He eyes you. “I assume you have no problem stayin’ to monitor him? With the stitches he should be good to go by mornin’ but you’ll want to watch him through the night.”

You could revive your old sleep habits and keep awake through one evening. “Yeah, I can stay. And Husk, it’s really not what you’re thinking-”

“Don’t care. Not my business. Make sure he doesn’t die- who fuckin’ knows what happens to my soul if that happens.” Husk gathers his materials and leaves the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

You wander the room for a while trying to find a way to entertain yourself. He only has a couple books in the room- ones you’ve already read before- and despite your interest in the bayou dimension you don’t want to wander too far away from him. Eventually you pick a book and drag the armchair over to the bed, settling in and keeping an eye on the movements of his chest. He seems to be doing well, despite being weak and injured, no blood yet seeping through the bandages on his chest.

You do so well for a while without getting tired before the siren song of sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. You combat it as best you can- you pace the room, do push ups and jumping jacks, try counting backwards from one thousand. It doesn’t help, and you find yourself curled up in the armchair next to the bed, eyes drifting shut and not opening again.

When the world of Alastor’s dreams comes to fruition, you’re once again just in his bedroom, the only difference being a slightly darker tone to the light. His eyebrows raise when he sees you. “Well! Fancy meeting you here, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I was trying to stay awake out there to keep an eye on you-”

He waves you down. “No worries, dear. I told you before the stitches that I would be fine, that remains true. I cannot fault you for falling asleep on duty when you’ve not been accustomed to staying awake during the evenings any longer.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was-”

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts, and with a shifting shadow he stands before you, trailing a finger down your throat. “That is not to say that I’m not upset with you for something else.” He circles you, eyes lidded and smile teasing. “Need I remind you again of the terms of our deal?”

“What?” Something slips around your wrist, almost like the feeling of Alastor’s fingers but softer, and you glance down to see one of his shadows. His meaning dawns on you. “Wait, Alastor, I didn’t- I’m not here on purpose, I-”

“Ahhh but that wasn’t a condition, was it? It is only allowed with my permission , dear, and I must say I can’t recall giving that to you!” Another shadow wraps itself around your thighs, buckling your legs and bringing you to your knees; he runs a hand gently along the top of your head, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid discipline is in order.” With a wave of his finger Alastor’s armchair is behind him, settling into it as his tentacles make themselves at home across your body, holding you in place where you now sit on your knees, Alastor’s hand still cupped under your chin. “I think a spanking will do.”

Your body jerks where you’re held. “I’m not a child.”

“This may seem a bit tame,” he admits, expression pensive, “but sometimes the classics can be rather effective! Here’s the plan-” The tentacles shift, bending you at the waist so your chin rests nearly on Alastor’s knee. “You’ve done rather well so far so I won’t be cruel . I think ten strikes should be sufficient. You’ll count them aloud, and should you miss one we will start over. How does that sound fair?”

“Alastor-”

The first strike is over your clothing, Alastor cocking his head when you try to move away from the faint sting of it. “Surely you know how to count, dearest.” Your clothes seem to melt off your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill in the air. When you don’t respond he sighs, his smile almost condescending. “Oh well; I suppose it can’t be helped. We begin again.”

The tentacle strikes again, a sharp snap that has you hissing through your teeth. Not knowing what else you can do, you decide to just submit- how bad can ten simple swats with a tentacle really hurt? “One,” you mutter, and Alastor’s eyes light up now that you’re willing to play his game.

He cups his hand around the back of your head, and you tilt into his palm. “Perfect. Good girl. Go ahead.”

A gentle whoosh through the air, and another blow to the soft skin of your ass. “T- two,” you say, gritting your teeth against the vague ache. It’s not terribly painful; it’s more the humiliation of it than anything else, but not being able to see it coming contributes to the sting. “Fuck!” Another that you didn’t anticipate. “Three.”

Alastor uses the light pressure of his hand to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Perhaps I’m just old fashioned,” he says softly, “but I don’t believe ‘fuck’ is a number. Start again.”

You feel the sting of frustrated tears. “Alastor, please.”

He brushes them away with a claw. “Come now, darling, no need for that. You can count to ten, can’t you? Why, it’s easy as can be and then we can be done with this business.”

So he makes you start again- and now for a third time when you can’t stop the whine in your throat from distorting the ‘eight’ into a broken groan. The spanks hadn’t been really painful before but as the punishment continued and the same spots were struck over and over you had become sore, and every new blow stung and ached like nothing else.

And yet- maybe its the position, or the utter helplessness of what’s happening with Alastor in control but there’s that familiar burn in your core, slick arousal from your cunt slipping down your thighs and out of sight of the demon before you.

Your eyes had drifted closed at some point, neck eventually losing the strength to hold itself up and pressing into the fabric of Alastor’s trousers. When he makes a curious humming noise you let your lashes flutter back open. His eyes are dark, pupils blown and his smile dangerous as he looks down at you with lidded eyes. “You know, if you’re having such trouble counting I may have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours, darling.” A brief respite from the tentacles, at least, as he repositions you with his hands to bring your face to the erection that’s grown in his lap. “This isn’t my punishment, after all; I don’t see why I should have to suffer now. How’s this- I’ll count for you, and you keep your mouth otherwise occupied, hm?”

You don’t bother trying to speak, instead just nodding in his gentle hold. He smiles, a little softer then, another quietly uttered “good girl” before he’s undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, presenting it to you and slowly guiding it into your waiting mouth.

He’s not demanding about it, lets you take your time in getting your lips wrapped around the head, fingers brushing delicately through your hair. The position isn’t perfect, and not having use of your hands is a bit of a nuisance but you can move your head enough to take some of his length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You swipe your tongue along what you can reach of the underside of him and he hisses above you, pulling you back with a soft fisting of your hair until you can only reach the tip.

“We’ll continue now, my dear. Be mindful of your teeth, please.” And he slides back in with a simultaneous strike of one of the tentacles. “One.”

Somehow the childish punishment is easier to take with Alastor’s cock in your mouth. You still jerk in the hold of the tentacles when you’re hit, but your whimpers and cries of pain are muffled, the vibrations of it serving a greater purpose now in bringing Alastor pleasure. You make it to seven before a particular hard spank jolts you forward, prick shoving harder into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. The constriction that happens when you inadvertently gag a bit makes a harsh moan tumble out of Alastor’s mouth, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. “Fuck-”

You pull off enough to speak, lips brushing the tip as you do. “Thought ‘fuck’ wasn’t a number.”

“Wretched, delightful thing,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You raise a valid point, but I think we’ve drawn this out long enough- you’ve learned your lesson?” A nod from you, lips once again covering him and tongue swirling around the head. “Lovely,” he sighs. “Then we’ll make this last bit quick.”

He shifts forward in the armchair, enough that he’s now fully inside of your mouth and each lazy thrust of his hips bumps the back of your throat. He gives himself time to savor the feeling of you sucking and licking at him, throat constricting each time he bottoms out, in between swats from the tentacles. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” Your hands are released from their restraints, and rather than bringing them to your throbbing clit like you desperately want to, cunt drenched and ready for something more, you instead bring them to Alastor’s lap, repositioning yourself to better choke on his length. You let your teary eyes drift up to his face, his eyes lidded where he stares down at you, smile tight and tense. “Wonderfully done, sweetheart. I need only a moment more- may I?” He fists his hands in your hair on either side of your head and you let your mouth go slack, allowing him to thrust in and back out at his own leisure.

You can feel under your hands the flexing of the muscles in his forearm and wish that he would take off his goddamn shirt- get undressed in one of these dreams, just something so you weren’t the only one exposed and vulnerable.

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think; it seems that you can do it as well.”

You think about what Alastor had said while camping- how your pants had simply vanished with a thought, the mere desire. You’d never really tried much with your dream powers. You just showed up and tried not to be spotted whenever you were in one, or got the information you were looking for and left. It hadn’t occurred to you until Alastor had said something that you might be able to do more , to use the power for something else.

So while Alastor grows more desperate in his race to completion, fucking your mouth with renewed fervor, you concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. You don’t want to alert him to what you’re trying to do- he’d probably take offense to the fact that you aren’t as wholly engrossed in letting him use your mouth as he likes, might even start the whole punishment over again after he came. So you let your vocal chords do as they please while he ruts into the hole you’ve provided for him, soft moans and whimpers to distract him a bit.

The top button twists, and slowly, silently, pulls itself from the hole it was fastened into. A slight shift of your eyes and the second one follows.

The mere possibilities of what you could do with this information makes you moan, long and low and vibrating hard around Alastor’s cock. Already close, the sensation makes him buck his hips hard, spewing curses as he spends himself in the warm and wet heat of your mouth. You’ve hardly had a chance to swallow- the taste and feeling not awful but just a little strange- before he’s yanking you up from the floor, pulling you into his lap and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come to rest on your thighs, traveling slowly upwards until he meets the welts that his tentacles have left on your skin. You hiss into his mouth at the sting of it, and he kisses you gently while massaging the sensitive skin. You distract yourself with popping another button on his shirt, a motion that goes unnoticed by Alastor in favor of switching between kissing you and watching your face while he touches you.

The rush of it eventually slows and stops, content to just sit there together for a bit with him unaware of the 6 buttons you had managed to get undone. Unlike the other times you’ve met in his dreams you aren’t simply shoved out this time- Alastor wakes up slowly and groggily, like anyone else would, and you open your eyes at the same time. He spots you in the armchair and moves to the side, clearing up a space beside him. “Come over here, dear,” he says, and you’re helpless to disobey.

Sitting up in the armchair you become aware of two things- that the welts and likely bruises from the tentacles had carried over into real life, as did the slick arousal and throbbing need in your cunt, suddenly desperate to be filled with Alastor- not just in a dream but here, now.

You stand from the chair and to the demon’s surprise, slip your bottoms and panties off before climbing into the bed and settling yourself against his side. He turns to face you, face twisting in slight pain when the wound on his chest shifts, but he trails his fingers down the slope of your neck, over the curve of your hip, finally dipping between your legs and feeling how wet you’ve become from allowing him to be in control of you. “We may have to find a new punishment for you, dearest, if this is how you react to this method.”

“Please, Alastor,” you say, reaching a hand down to his lap and pleased to find that while he’s been spent in the dream, his erection here in the real world is eager to go again. You slip your fingers under the band of his trousers, circle them around his cock with a light squeeze. “Please, I need it- not in the dream but here, real . Please?”

His breath catches in his throat, hot exhale against your face. “I- I am injured, darling, I cannot perform as I do in my mind-”

“You don’t have to.” You’re already shifting, getting up on your knees and settling over his lap, slotting his hard, hot length against your dripping folds. “I’ll do it- you don’t have to do anything. I- I just need to cum, please?”

He cups your face in his hand like he had in the dream. “How could I possibly deny you anything?” He assists you in positioning yourself on his cock, a soft “careful, dear” as you start to sink down.

Jesus fuck. The dreams had done nothing to prepare you for the feeling in real life as you’re speared on his cock, your body making room for him with the delicious slide down until you’re seated in his lap completely. You’re full of him in every sense; your cunt stuffed, mind racing with thoughts of Alastor, vision blocked by anything but the sight of his eyes wide as he watches you take him in, his claws digging into the skin of your hips. It’s so, so much better than it is in the dreams- it’s tangible , a real memory that you can hold onto from your mind, not remnants of something in Alastor’s head. This was yours. Something he’s giving you because you asked for it, begged him for it and he obliged.

You raise up on your knees, already shaky from the slow descent, and make it halfway before Alastor shifts his hips and hits the bundle of nerves inside you. You bite back the moan that wants to escape, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I said I would do it.”

“You’re certainly taking your time, darling. Just thought I could offer some assistance.” He gives you a positively lecherous smile. “I suppose if you won’t allow me to move this should suffice.” He lets one hand slide off your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, the other tightening its grip on you.

“I’ll- I’ll allow it,” you choke out, a little miffed that the subtle shift of his hips was enough to get him right where you needed him. You ride him gently, mindful of his injury, and the pleasure crests, so close to breaking you that your legs are cramping. “God, Alastor, please-”

“What do you need, beautiful?” You have only a moment to process the word before he’s moving, an arm wrapping around your middle and turning the pair of you over, rutting his cock into you with a speed and pressure that makes you dizzy. His smile is dazed looking down at you, watching your cunt swallow him and reveling in the wet noises that emerge from where you’re joined. “You’re so close, darling, I can feel it- your pleasure is mine. Every time you reach that peak, when you cum on my cock, it will only ever be me. ”

He shifts again, brings his knees up closer to get deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Alastor, my god-”

“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, bending down to trail his tongue up your throat. “I want to be everything to you. Would you allow me that privilege? To claim you, to own you in every way that you’d let me, in any dimension.”

Your head whips back and forth on the pillow, the edge so close your vision is dark. “Please, please, please,” you’re mumbling, “Alastor please, I’m gonna-”

The tension snaps before you can finish your sentence, a wailing cry falling from your lips as you clench and shake and cum under him, around him. It’s so different from when it happens in Alastor’s dreams- it echoes in every part of your body, your head spinning and fingers tightening in his shirt so hard that you fear you’ll rip the fabric. His name spills from you in waves with your release, and his eyes are dark as his thrusts intensify, chasing his orgasm with the resolve of a man possessed.

“Yours, all yours,” you mumble against his lips when his face comes close enough to catch his mouth. “All of me.”

He snarls and his hips stutter, snapping hard against yours. “So much- so much better,” he gasps through the tightening of your pussy on his length. “So perfect- mine -” With a harsh growl he spends himself a second time for the night, into the wet silken grip of your body. He thrusts gently through the wave of it before he collapses in a heap against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

“You’re so- lovely,” he mumbles. “Giving, for a demon. One would think that you would simply take- I would, were it me with your powers. But you’re just…” He trails off, head against your shoulder and breath slow.

You bring a hand up to trail down his back. “I meant it,” you whisper, swallowing your nerves. “If you- if you would have me, I would be yours. For as long as you want. Forever.”

He remains silent.

Fuck. You hope you haven’t overstepped some boundary. “Alastor?” He doesn’t move, or show any indication that he’s heard you. “Hey, are you okay?” You push at his shoulder with no response, so you double down and push harder, tumbling him off of you.

“Mother fucker.” The bandages wrapped around his chest are stained with red, more than when you had begun- the demon had torn his stitches open when he flipped the pair of you around to take control back, after you specifically told him you would handle your orgasms yourself. “Idiot,” you hiss at his slacken face, but you still brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead before pulling your bottoms back on and rushing down the hall to find Husk, ignoring the sting of the welts on your rear the whole way.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #x reader #bark bark bark #my stuff <3 #hazbin hotel x reader

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whatacaitastrophe · 15 hours

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Guilty as Sin?

Summary: After confessing his feelings for Tav, Gale fantasizes about them back in his tent, because he's an idiot who said they needed to wait a little longer to explore their mutual desires.

Rating: Explicit Words: ~1k

Tags: Pillow Humping, Masturbation, Gender neutral Tav, Tav is referred to as "You" Song Inspo: "Guilty as Sin?" - Taylor Swift Author Notes: Shout out to the Magic Man discord server for making me write this, and shout out to Taylor Swift for writing a song about masturbation.

“It’s quite thrilling— to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially at your side.”

Despite the raised eyebrows from Shadowheart and the snide remarks from Astarion (“Really? You’re telling them this now? Right now?”), Gale wasn’t sorry for confessing his attraction to you after the heat of battle. Now that Elminster had quieted the orb in Gale’s chest, he was no longer afraid to be candid about his attraction to you. After all, the mere thought of kissing you was, until recently, a threat to Gale’s very existence. He was touch starved, and now that he could finally do something about it? Why would he wait to finally lay the groundwork of his desires with you until you were alone.

Besides, saying it in front of Astarion also had its perks. The vampire could no longer feign ignorance to the connection Gale shared with you. Therefore, Astarion could no longer continue flirting with you, or do anything else the two of you were doing in the dead of night while everyone else slept, without blatantly walking into Gale’s territory.

Declaring his intentions with you (and hearing you say that you felt the same way) sent a message, loud and clear: You belonged to Gale, and Astarion needed to back the fuck off.

The only misstep Gale made when confessing his attraction to you was insisting that it wasn’t the time or place, that the two of you needed to wait a little longer before exploring your desires. If he’s being honest with himself, that just might be the stupidest thing Gale has ever said.

That was the thought that kept Gale up after everyone else went to sleep, tossing and turning as he silently kicked himself for not immediately inviting you to his tent. There was a reason, of course, Gale wanted the gesture to be as beautiful and grand as the object of his affections, and he couldn’t do it after a full day of flinging spells at shadow-cursed creatures. Damn his lofty ambitions for getting the best of him, even in the simplest ways.

Gale huffed with frustration as he rolled onto his back, the thoughts of you plaguing his mind and making his cock impossibly hard. As Gale slid his hand over his chest, he could only pray that this would be his last night indulging in a fantasy about you instead of indulging in the real thing.

Closing his eyes, Gale started off slowly—palming himself over his pajamas, squeezing his shaft gently. He imagined it was you: You with your soft hands that he’d had the pleasure of brushing against while sitting around the campfire. It was you that slipped deft fingers beneath the hem of his trousers, stroking Gale’s cock with feather light touches. It was you who pulled Gale’s trousers down past his hips, allowing his already leaking cock to spring free from its confines.

“I’ve been waiting for this, for so long.” You said in his mind as he slowly stroked his cock, imagining the way you’d tease him because oh— you would tease him, Gale was certain of it. After all, the two of you had already spent weeks flirting and verbally teasing each other. Why wouldn’t you want to drag it out a little longer.

“Please,” Gale begged audibly, speaking only to the image of you in his head. “I need more.” Gale stroked himself harder as he imagined you complying with his request, leaning forward and enveloping his cock with the wet, hot heat of your mouth. Gale arched his hips into his hand, a soft moan tumbling from his lips at the thought of you swallowing his cock to the hilt until it tickled the back of your throat.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, Gale reached for one of the many pillows he had in his tent and rolled over desperately, placing the pillow between his legs as he straddles it. A soft moan left Gale’s mouth as he braced one hand on the ground and held the pillow in place with the other. As he began grinding against the pillow, the vision in his mind shifted.

You’re beneath him now, your body ready and waiting to take him. Gale imagines what you sound like when you moan as he slides his cock inside of you— how pretty your voice sounds when Gale is the source of your pleasure instead of someone else. How pretty Gale’s name will sound when it’s sung from your lips as he fucks you. A quiet moan passes through Gale’s lips at the thought as he ruts against the pillow, aching and desperate for you.

“Harder.” Your voice is crystal clear in Gale’s mind, as is your body trembling beneath him as he fucks you the way you requested. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the pillow becomes warm beneath him. It’s not quite the same as having a body beneath him, but it will do. Gale’s hips snapped desperately as he chased his pleasure and pretended that it’s not a pillow beneath him, sheathing his cock as he moved, but the velvet warmth of your inner walls.

“Gods, you look incredible,” Gale whimpered softly as he pictured his thick length sliding in and out of you. “You take me so well.” He whispered to no one as he doubled his efforts, hips rutting erratically as Gale’s climax swiftly approached.

“I love you.”

Those were the last words Gale imagined leaving your lips before slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the moan that escapes him as he cums with a shout. Hot spurts of semen burst from Gale’s cock as he rode the pillow into his own personal oblivion, ruining the fabric beneath him the same way he imagined ruining you.

It was only once his cock was spent and over-sensitive that Gale collapsed onto his bedroll, panting, sweating, and dizzy from the intensity of his climax. The visions of you fade away slowly as Gale stares at the ceiling of his tent, leaving him only as satisfied as one can be after masturbating while the object of their desire slept a dozen feet away: spent, but already aching for more.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow Gale would volunteer to stay back at camp so he could save his strength, so he could save his magic, for you.

Tomorrow, Gale would make you completely and utterly his. He needed to.

Because if he didn’t, he was going to run out of pillows.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gender neutral tav #gender neutral reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #gale smut #gale one shot #gale fic #gale fanfic

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bruisedleftknee · 11 hours

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I need to talk about what it's like when you and Noah live together. You're both open to trying new stuff, right?? You have some friends over for a movie night, and you're watching a horror movie that is kind of erotic??? Oh, you know that is going to lead to *things* and I'm gonna tell you all about it.

Tags & Warnings: Fingering?, Oral Sex (Both Receiving), P in V, Slight power play, After care.

Word count: 2.6K

(I don't think it's anything crazy, but if it needs more tags and warnings, please let me know.)

✦✦✦

It's a typical Saturday night at your place, you and Noah have friends over, and you're watching some old horror movie together.

It's late. The coffee table is covered with empty pizza boxes and paper cups. Everyone's watching the movie, and the house is quiet.

You're sure you've seen this movie before, the woman is handcuffed to the bed and the man dies of a heart attack or something, but you're tired and a little too sleepy to remember any other details.

You're thinking about the ending of the movie, trying to remember how exactly it happens, so you tilt your head to Noah to ask him if he remembers it or not, but you see that he's looking at you. He has his hands up, his fingers locked together, and he looks like he's been staring at you in the same position for a few minutes now. He's resting his head on his shoulder, and you can see he's sleepy too.

You smile at him. "Wanna go to bed?" you ask him. "Yeah, I think I'm getting old for these late nights," he answers as he gets up from the couch. He reaches for your hand to help you get up, says good night to everyone, and you both start walking to your bedroom upstairs.

"Guys, you know where the pillows and blankets are." You tell your friends, and you're walking behind Noah, holding his hand. "Yeah, g-night" your friend Jolly says as he scrolls his phone.

***

You're upstairs. Noah's already in bed, looking at some cat videos on his phone, wearing only his black boxers, with the blanket only covering one of his legs.

You finish your skincare routine, change into your comfy pajamas, and crawl under the heavy blanket.

When you get in bed, Noah puts away his phone and opens his arms for you, He always does this because he loves falling asleep spooning you.

You get comfy in his arms and leave a soft kiss on his bicep. He kisses the back of your head and wraps his other hand around you.

"We've watched that movie before, haven't we?" You ask him. "Yeah, we have," he answers in his low, sleepy voice.

"I don't remember the ending,"

"She gets herself out of the handcuffs and finally faces her fears."

"Oh, you're right; I remember now." You say, "Don't you dare die if you ever handcuff me to the bed.".

He stays silent for a few seconds. "Can I handcuff you to the bed?" He asks in a playful and curious tone, moving his hand and placing it gently on your breast.

"Wait, were you thinking about this when we were watching the movie??" You ask, surprised.

"Hmmm, maybe." He answers, "So, can I?"

"Hmmm, maybe," you say, mocking him, but you're wondering if you want that or not.

"Can I do it now?" Noah asks; his voice doesn't sound sleepy anymore.

"What? Like right now?" You're even more surprised now.

"Why not? I promise not to die," he says, laughing at his own joke.

"You have handcuffs?" You ask curiously.

"No, but we can use other stuff." He kisses your neck and plays with your nipple that is now hard from thinking about the things the two of you can do if you say yes.

"Baby, it's okay if you don't want to; you know that, right?" He assures you between kisses. "Actually, I think I'd like to try." You answer with a little doubt in your tone, you're not sure if you'll like it or not.

"Are you sure?" Noah asks you again, "Yeah," you say, this time with less doubt in your voice.

Noah starts kissing you, and soon you lose count of the number of times he's pressed his lips on your skin.

Noah is lying on his left side; his left arm is under your head. You're lying on your back, your right leg is on his thighs, and your legs are wide open. He has his right hand in your panties, gently playing with your clit.

Between the kisses he leaves on your neck, you hold his face with one hand so you can kiss him.

You try to keep quiet; you know your friends are still up cause the TV is on, but you also know if you make too much noise, they can hear you.

It's quiet in your bedroom; the only noises you can hear are the sound of you and Noah's breaths and the noises your wet pussy makes when Noah slowly fingers you.

All this time, you've been thinking, When is he going to tie your hand? What is he gonna use to do it? Is he gonna tie both of your hands to the bed frame or just one? What is he gonna do after that?

"Do it," you say to Noah after moments of making out in silence.

"What?" he asks.

"Tie me up," you say between kisses. "Don't keep me waiting."

He smiles, kisses your forehead, and goes to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he's back with his Jujitsu belt in his hand.

"You're going to use that?" You ask, you never thought he might use that to tie your hands some day.

"We don't have to if you don't like it," he assures you. But you do like it, you didn't know if you would, but now every fiber in your body tingles to feel the things he's gonna do to you sooner.

"No, I do," you say as you start undressing and lay closer to the bed frame. Noah comes to the bed, holds your hands, and starts leaving kisses on each one of your fingers, then starts tying your hands with the belt.

Now your wrists are pressed together slightly above your head.

"Tell me if it's too tight, baby," he asks you.

"It's good." Your heart is starting to beat faster every second.

You're lying in the center of the bed, and your hands are tied to the bed frame above your head.

Noah sits in front of you on the bed, opens your legs, and caresses your inner thighs with his soft hands.

You don't know why your legs are shaking; you're not afraid, you're curious and excited.

He leans in and starts kissing a line from your glistening core to your lips, inch by inch, he leaves kisses on your skin.

He goes to your nipples and starts licking them. With every lick, you close your legs a little; it's involuntarily.

"Keep them open for me," he tells you, and you try to do exactly that.

He touches your core with four fingers, and you stop yourself before a moan comes out of you, but when he spreads your arousal on your folds and sticks two fingers inside you, your moan isn't something you can control anymore.

"Better keep it down," he tells you, but you're still moaning; you'd cover your mouth with your hands if they were free, but they're not.

When your moans get more frequent, he puts his big hand on your mouth; his hand covers almost all of your face.

When you're finally quiet, he moves his face towards your navel, kisses it a few times, and then goes where his fingers are—your hole.

How long can you really last if he's playing with every sensitive part of your body? Your hole is stuffed with his fingers, his tongue is on your clit and he's moved his hand to your breast and is playing with it like it's his toy. And this has been going on for minutes now, so how long will you last?

You try to pull your hands out of the knot to do something, to control the pace, to grab his head and tell him to stop cause he's making you crazy and you need a pause to breathe, but you realize that there's no escaping this, and it's so exciting.

You shut your eyes, and your mouth opens as he circles your clit fast. Your back arches, and you feel so close to orgasm. "M'gonna.." you tell him, and immediately he pulls out his fingers and lets go of you.

"Not yet, baby." He's not touching you anymore, you open your eyes to see him sitting between your open legs looking at you.

"Whyyy did youuu stop?" You whine and try to stop the vibration that you're feeling inside you by closing your legs and pressing them against each other, but he stops you from doing that.

You turn your face to your side and try to bury it in the space between your shoulder and neck. He holds your face with one hand, says, "Eyes on me, baby, we're just starting," and puts his thumb in your mouth.

He takes off his boxers and sits on top of you; his thighs are on both sides of your shoulders; he strokes his dick, and you can see a drop of precum hanging from its tip.

"Open," he tells you, and brings his cock closer to your mouth, and you listen. "You know that's not enough; open more for me." He waits, and when your mouth is wide open and you have your tongue out, he puts the tip on your tongue. You taste his precum and try to lick it, but he stops you by taking away his cock. "You want it, don't you?"

You bring your head close to him so you can reach his cock, but he pulls away. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."

"You. Please, I want you." You say looking up at his tall figure.

You open your mouth again, and he pushes his hard cock into your mouth. Its tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag a little. Your head is pinned against the mattress, and you can't control the movements; the harder he fucks your mouth, the more you drool. Your saliva is all over your chin, and with every harder thrust in your mouth, more tears run down your cheeks.

"You take me so well, baby. A little more.." He says in between his breaths in a low voice.

He holds the bed frame and fucks your face harder and faster. Your face is covered with your tears and saliva. You feel like you can't breathe right, and he's going faster and faster, then suddenly he stops. His dick pulses and twitches inside your mouth. His eyes are closed, and he's breathing heavily.

He slowly pulls out his cock and comes down to kiss your mouth, His tongue brushes on your lips, and he licks the saliva off you lips.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" He tells you as he wipes your tears with his fingers and smiles at you.

You smile back. "Do you want me to continue?" he asks. "Yes," you tell him.

His dick is covered in your saliva. You can taste his precum on your tongue.

He strokes his dick and sits where he was sitting before; this time he comes closer, close enough that your butt cheeks touche his thighs, he rests your legs on his shoulders. His touch makes you legs legs shake, he kisses them, "Relax baby," he tells you as he slides the tip of his cock between your folds. He doesn't give you all of it, you whine and moan, you want all of him.

"Dies this feel good?" He asks you with a smirk on his face.

"Noa.. h.. I need more," Your tears are running down your face again.

"I asked you a question." He goes a little more in.

"Yes, yes, it's so good."

"Is this all you can take?"

"No please.. Give me all of it, baby, please." You beg him; your voice is a little louder than it should be.

"Shhhhh.." he says as he presses himself into you.

You have him now, all of him. You feel your walls adjusting to him with every thrust. His hands are on your knees, keeping you closer to him.

He starts to circle your clit with his thumb. Your tears haven't stopped, so you have closed your eyes to stop them.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me," Noah tells you. "Look at me; I want to see how you take my cock."

When you look at him, his head is tilted backwards, and he's hissing in pleasure, trying to keep quiet.

Looking at him, watching his cock and how he thrusts into you and how he's enjoying it brings you close to your orgasm; you feel it in your stomach, and if your friends weren't home, you would scream so loudly, but you don't say anything. If you tell Noah that you're close, he will stop, so you don't say anything, and when he pinches your clit your mouth opens wide and your eyes roll back. He's pounding his cock inside you and playing with your clit. You're seeing stars and trying your best to keep your body still, and seconds later, without saying a word, you come.

"I.. I came," you say quietly between his thrusts.

He looks at you surprised and confused, "No baby you didn't," and slams himself into you harder.

"Noah, p- please" Your pussy feels even wetter than before, your release is all over your cheeks and his thighs and you feel like you don't have the energy to go on another second.

"You're gonna cum for me." He presses his finger on your clit, grabs your neck and slightly presses his fingers on the sides and fucks you harder. "Come on baby, show me you can do it."

As he goes harder, you feel your second orgasm building, your legs are shaking and your back arches, "I'm gonn-" your toes curl, and when you let out a silent scream as you feel the release.

He stops and pulls out quickly. "You did great, baby. Can you give me a little more?" He kisses your belly.

"Mhmm" You nod cause you're too fucked out to talk.

Noah grabs you by the waist and helps you turn your back to him. Your hands are still tied to the bed frame, but you have a little room to change your position.

You get on your knees, rest your head on the mattress, and he puts a pillow under your head.

You haven't said a word since you came for the second time cause you're still swimming in pleasure, but Noah has been praising you for how good you were.

When he's inside you again, he has both hands on your back. You close your eyes and try to focus on the pleasure you feel when he moves inside you.

He's been going for a long time now, and before you know it, his rhythm gets messy, he reasts his head on your shoulders and puts both hands on your sides, and he fucks into you faster. He hisses in pleasure when he comes, empties himself inside you and stays there for while.

He kisses your shoulders and your back and slowly pulls out. His cum drips out of your hole, and you gasp at the sight you're seeing from between your legs.

Noah gently helps you sit on your knees. He opens your hands and kisses the red marks around your waists, then he kisses you and sits you on the bed.

He rushes to the bathroom and comes back with towels and a glass of water.

He hands you the water and kisses your head. "Was that fun?" He asks and starts to clean you with a warm damp towel.

"Yes," you sip your water, "more than I thought, actually. Was it fun for you?"

"Of course, baby. It was amazing. Thank you."

Noah sits on the bed beside you, kisses your head again, and you hug each other.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bruisedleftknee #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #bad omens cult #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian davis #bad omens smut #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #my fic

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ghouljams · 9 hours

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do i have a single clue about fallout? no. will i try googling it? i did briefly and did not get one syllable through my head. will i read the fallout au? yes, yes i will.

Here are my thoughts...

Price: Elder Maxson type, ideologically unbreakable leader of the Brotherhood of steel. Bordering on cult leader behavior for the good of the wasteland and the (human) residents there. @ceilidho mentioned the reader getting lowkey kidnapped for breeding stock and it did something to me... Elder Price finds a fresh vault dweller and coaxes them in with promises of protection from the feral ghouls, supermutants, and deathclaws roaming nearby. He rules through fear, not of him, but of what lurks outside.

Gaz: NCR Ranger!!!! NEED I SAY MORE??? I shall. Upstanding moral code, determined to help people and rebuild the world into something with more law than it has now. He's here to help, but that doesn't mean he'll do it for free. After all NCR money doesn't spend as far as caps do, he's sure you can work something out. He's well trained, and we love a man in uniform. I'm thinking if Gaz saving courier reader from a raider stupid enough to try and mess with the mail, telling you he'll tag along just to make sure you get where you're going(and maybe to collect on the life debt you owe him)

Soap: Mechanic. I can't believe that wouldn't be obvious. He's the most necessary part of any wasteland crew. The man will get your power armor working in an hour flat no matter the problem. You need a mini-nuke? He's got two or three he's been tinkering with. You need a new core? Your water purifier break down? Does your gun keep jamming? Go see Soap. Price has been trying to grab him for years, but the fucker is too slippery to pin down. You meet him doing minuteman work and get caught in a fire fight. He's nice enough to haul you to safety, and then keep hauling you. Are you being kidnapped? No. Can you leave? ...no...

Ghost: Former vault dweller turned ghoul. The man has a bad attitude and a dick ribbed for your pleasure... After crawling his way out of the grave- er, vault, and being forced to carve out a new life for himself he makes a tidy sum as a vault hunter/one man raider/mercenary. He picks up a rat trying to steal from him and decides if you're that desperate for money you can get it from him the same way everyone else does, on your knees. Put that gun down before it goes off and hurts someone. He's scruffing you or tossing you over his shoulder any time you start getting too rowdy(ignore how pleased it makes him to have human contact again)

#simon ghost riley #cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #fallout au

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scoonsalicious · 11 hours

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively.

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug.

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force.

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain.

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth.

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words.

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling.

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 2 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, human trafficking.

Word Count: 455

Previously On...: You made a Bad Decision :(

A/N: You know what, I didn't realize how short these parts were! Let's get into Chapter 24 today, too, shall we?!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“And where the hell have you been?” Sam asked when you eventually walked back into the apartment. “I’ve been calling you for hours!”

“Out,” you said simply, putting your bag down on the side table.

Sam approached you, leaning in close to study your face. “Are you drunk?!” he asked.

“What are you, my mother?” you scoffed as you moved past him and into the kitchen. You were still drunk, so you needed to pour yourself a glass of water to mitigate the hangover you’d no doubt have in the morning.

“Pocket,” Sam followed you and leaned on the counter as you sat on one of the kitchen island stools, “we’re on assignment. You can’t go off for hours without telling me to get plastered!”

He was right, you knew that, but your pride, and the alcohol, wasn’t going to let you admit it. “Forgive me for taking a few hours off,” you snapped back at him. “Shaking my ass for intel is exhausting, and I deserved a break.”

“Don’t pretend this is because you wanted a ‘break,’” Sam said. “You freaked out because of Bucky and you ran off to spiral.” His voice softened. “But you can’t do that, Baby Girl. Not right now. Not when women are counting on us.”

Oof. That got you where it hurts. “Did you relay the info I gave you?” you asked him, hoping to avoid any further discussion of your transgressions. If he found out you’d also gone out for a fuck with a complete stranger, he’d be livid.

“Yeah,” Sam said, and you were grateful he seemed willing to let it go, as well. “They think it’s a promising lead, and they’re gonna have… some people look into it.”

Some people. Safe words for Barnes and Carthage, no doubt, given they had the most experience with Hydra.

“You did good, Baby Girl,” Sam added.

You nodded, suddenly exhausted. You stood from your stool and picked up your glass of water. “I’m gonna go to bed. Night, Sam.”

You were almost out of the room when Sam called your name. You turned to look at him. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this or not, but, you should know– he was yelling at her to leave him alone, says she won’t stop following him around the Tower. He keeps tryin’ to avoid her, doesn’t want her near him, but she keeps poppin’ up like a bad penny.”

You didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.

“You’re right,” you said, turning to walk away again, and feeling utterly drained. “You shouldn’t have told me. It’s too little, too late now, and he only has himself to blame for it. I’m tired of caring.”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

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cannedpickledpeaches · 1 day

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Insert Your Name (11)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

Notes and TW: Congratulations! You have successfully made it all about you (positive). This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Sorry that the tags haven't been working for the past couple of posts! I had to go in and edit the html for each individual one T-T please forgive me

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as surprise fills the man’s face, but you don’t show it. You need to see this through. If you’re powerless in the face of his ability, you simply need to borrow his power. So what if he’s akin to a god? All you need to do is bring him to your side. Whoever that author is, whoever took over (Y/N)’s body—maybe they aren’t capable of using such an asset effectively. However, you’re confident you won’t let that advantage go to waste.

The man hums in thought. “I suppose it could be done without much fanfare. I would simply need to shift my attention to your experiences and abandon the current story. However, you would need to have your story recorded somewhere, in whatever form you may wish for it to take.”

You understand what he’s getting at. A story needs a medium, just like that manuscript. There are many options: on film, as a novel, as a collage of pictures. No strict rules exist for expression of self.

“I’ll keep a journal. Every day, I’ll write an entry, and I’ll also use it as a planner. This way, my ‘story’ will have the events that occurred in my life, how they affected my ‘character development,’ and also outline how I expect the story to ‘progress.’ Is that good enough?”

You still don’t think of yourself as a fictional character. You’re real, in every aspect, to yourself. But that doesn’t matter right now. Functionally, you’re a character to this man. You’ll use that assumption to put yourself in the most advantageous position.

“Yes, that would be a rather interesting way to tell your story. There are indeed many stories that were written in the form of diary entries, so this is not an issue at all. This would, in fact, make things easier for me. I would not have to go through the paperwork and expend energy to bring someone from another world since you already exist in Twisted Wonderland as an established character. There is just one thing you should know before you make this decision.”

“Tell me.” Of course there are strings attached. There always are. You prepare yourself. Self-sacrifice in small amounts is necessary, of course, but if there’s anything you can negotiate with . . . .

“I will have to take the previous author’s soul out of (Y/N)’s body. (Y/N)’s soul will regain control of her own body, since it was never removed, only dormant. Since the author’s original body cannot function without a soul, she cannot return to her world. It will disappear, never to be recovered, lost to the fabric of what forms this space. Are you still willing to proceed?”

“Is that it?” You expected something else. This has nothing to do with you giving up anything. In fact, it could even be considered a bonus. This woman whose story made your life and relationships exceedingly difficult will disappear down to the traces of her soul. It’s an easy decision. “Of course.”

“How cold-hearted you are.” He chuckles down at his teacup. It never seems to drain empty no matter how he sips it. “That is not an undesirable quality in protagonists, although they often do not have a happy ending in fairytales.”

“Is that supposed to deter me or something?” You stay resolute. “My future was always uncertain no matter if it’s a story or not. I’m in the mafia. I’ve come to terms that horrible things could happen at any moment because of the nature of my job a long, long time ago. It’s my responsibility to plan so that I reduce those chances as much as possible. And you’re going to help me.”

“Yes, I am.” He glances at the fireplace, which has burned down to glowing red embers. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are under my jurisdiction. I am partial to tragic endings, but I also do not mind if an amoral character triumphs in the end. Some of my peers would adamantly ensure it does not happen.”

You furrow your brows. This is not the first time he brought up something being under his “jurisdiction.” However, this is the first time he’s mentioned “peers” instead of “characters.”

“There are others like you?”

“Yes, of course. Twisted Wonderland is filled with too many stories for me to manage on my own. Since you are mainly involved with the Leech Mafia and stories of the Coral Sea, you fall under my jurisdiction.”

It makes sense. This man compared himself to a god, but he isn’t one. He isn’t omnipotent or omniscient.

“Who are they?”

He tilts his head. “You would not know us even if I told you.”

“I’m curious. Tell me anyway.”

“Such a curious character.” He glances at the embers again. “Alright, I see no harm in it. My peers overseeing Twisted Wonderland include Walt Disney, the Brothers Grimm, Hanna Diyab, Victor Hugo, and Lewis Carroll, among others.”

None of these names ring a bell. It is just a list of names, but having more information is never a bad thing.

“And your name? I should know how to address you.”

“Oh, I have not yet introduced myself to you? My apologies, I must be turning forgetful in my old age.” He laughs at himself in a good-natured manner. “My name is Hans Christian Anderson. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduce yourself as well. He extends a hand to you. When your hands connect in a firm handshake, the new deal you’ve made feels solidified.

Anderson looks at the fireplace one more time. The light has died completely, the little room lit only by the moonlight pouring in the window. With a gentle but decisive clap of his hands, he stands from his armchair.

“That was a fruitful discussion, and I thank you for your patience and understanding. I fear time has run out, however, and so I will be sending you back shortly. I’ll place you right back where you came from: at the moment when I brought you here.”

“Hold on!” Too soon, too sudden. You still have so much to say. He holds up a hand, stopping your protests.

“If you’d like to communicate with me, simply write a request for it in your new journal. I wish you best of luck.”

And with that, the world goes white again.

This is the story of a girl whose name is no longer hers. A girl so common that she may as well be a faceless background character in another person’s story. A girl who wishes, more than anything, to be the protagonist of a love story that will sweep her off her feet and solve all her problems.

Her family is normal. Her friends, too. And so is she. It isn’t enough for her. The world inside that game she plays is so magical, so whimsical, so perfect. The characters are handsome, powerful, clever, funny, or rich, or some combination of those qualities. If she enters this world, surely all those wonderful characters would treat her as someone special. They’d love and revere her unconditionally. She pines for a man who would love her and her shortcomings in their entirety, no matter what she does.

The beauty about fictional characters is that because they are fictional, they can be whatever she wants them to be. She can wholeheartedly believe they’ll love her, and there is nothing wrong with that. But she isn’t satisfied with that alone. It needs to be real.

Desperately, she writes a story revolving around a faceless, flawless main character who she desperately wishes she could be. Everyday, the writing consumes her, dragging her into a fantasy of bliss. She begins to resent her reality. Nobody in real life will love her the correct way. Nobody can be as good as the characters she pours her love and headcanons on. She doesn’t consider how love can be gradual, nor does realize someone might have to get to know her before loving her. After all, in her fanfiction, the perfect mafioso loves her main character upon the first meeting and devotes himself with no questions asked. Isn’t that the ideal love?

One day, a miracle occurs. She meets a man who offers to make her story into her reality. Jumping on the chance to live her perfectly crafted life of happiness, she agrees. Finally. Finally, she will be loved the way she wants.

At first, everything went perfectly. Real life follows her fanfiction to the letter. Jade is charming, Floyd is endearing, and a string of coincidences leads her to meet Vil, another handsome bachelor. Love surrounds her at every turn. All she needs in this life are the handsome men who give her special treatment. After all, this body, this life—(Y/N)—was created by her, for her use. All of the previous relationships this body entertained no longer matter. They aren’t hers, anyway.

The polaroids that occupied her nightstand are probably in a landfill somewhere. The aesthetic was cute, befitting the tastes of a character she modelled after herself, but the person in them is irrelevant. Some side character she’s never going to see again. No matter; she’ll eventually replace those polaroids with cute photos of herself and her new love. (Y/N)—no, the placeholder—has served its purpose. It will not miss those useless decorations since it will never again have its own consciousness.

So where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was wrong from the start. She should have cursed that old man for scamming her. Her happy ending was never a guarantee. How dare a throwaway side character upend her perfect, fairy tale ending? Is that even allowed? They’re all just characters anyway. How can they steal from a real person?

Until the very end, she couldn’t see anyone around her as anything other than characters in a story. Maybe if she did, she might have gotten the love she wanted. Now, she disappears, having never achieved the goal she so desperately grasped at. Like seafoam, her hopes and yearning for love bubbles and disappears.

Hans Christian Anderson places a book into an empty spot on one of his many shelves. He has always been fond of tragedies. As for this new story that’s unfolding . . . who’s to say how it will end? He’s a patient man. With a smile, he settles into an armchair and sips from a cup of tea. He’s looking forward to it. When it eventually ends, like all stories inevitably do, he’ll shelve it and find another story to bring to life.

The world suddenly flashes into focus. The sun’s dying embers flicker on the sea. Sand shifts between your toes. Fingers graze your neck. Before you can activate your Signature Spell, (Y/N) crashes into you and you both topple over into a bed of sand. Bloodlust raises the hairs on the back of your neck. But it isn’t coming from (Y/N). Instead, you instinctively wrap one arm around her and hold the other one out in front of you, shielding her from Jade.

“Wait, wait! Jade, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

He freezes. One of his hands stops a centimeter away from (Y/N)’s hair. She doesn’t react. Slowly, you lay back down, heaving a sigh. You shift her face to the side so that she doesn’t suffocate in your shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, complementing the slow rise and fall of her ribs.

“See? She’s asleep.”

Jade furrows his brows. “I fail to understand. Most importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring up at the stars that unveil themselves in the darkening sky. “I’m just a little tired.”

You explain everything to him. He seems skeptical, but eventually, he accepts it. He sits in the sand next to you, his hand covering yours. You pretend not to notice, but it offers a soothing calm to your exhausted mind.

“I’m sorry,” you say, glancing at his side profile. “Even if I write that Vil Schoenheit will cure your parents, it might not happen because of continuity issues. Maybe (Y/N) will still be able to convince him.”

“That’s alright.” He catches your gaze. “It would make the story progress more smoothly if we continue with our talks with Walrus.”

He accepted it so quickly. For that matter, so did you. You wonder briefly if there is something at play that makes you accept the reality of your situation as fact—if it’s because you’re a character after all—but that’s all speculation. Not worth your time and energy to figure out.

“Bottom line is, this is my story now. So I’ll make sure the curse on your parents is dispelled.”

“How reliable.” Jade gives you a gentle smile, one that causes an unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “Thank you. What would you like in recompense?”

You weren’t expecting him to offer anything at all. But since he offered, you aren’t one to refuse.

“Money.”

His quiet laughter blends in with the sound of rushing waves.

“No hesitation at all, I see. Of course, I will pay you adequately for your invaluable help.”

“I also want something else.” You fiddle with the strands of (Y/N)’s hair. “I’d like a vacation. Just a week or two after everything settles down so I can go back to my hometown with my mom.”

“Is that what the money is for?”

“Yeah.” Your heart feels a little lighter. “You should visit the Coral Sea after your parents wake up as well. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with them.”

A pause. You scrutinize Jade’s expression in the low light, but his expression is wholly unfamiliar to you. He almost looks . . . nervous.

“Would you come with us?”

You blink. “Don’t you want to spend time with just your family?”

“Yes, but my parents would be delighted to have you over again. You have not been to our home under the sea in a long time, and I would be more than happy to show you around again.”

“It won’t be a bother?”

“Far from it.” His thumb rubs softly against the back of your hand. “I . . . We are very fond of you.”

You can’t help but think there’s an ulterior motive, but you accept. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve travelled to their home under the sea, and this most likely won’t be the last.

Suddenly, (Y/N) shifts on your chest. A soft noise escapes her lips as though she’s finally awakened from a long nap. Her bleary eyes find yours. Kind, lovely, and gentle eyes. The eyes of the (Y/N) you know and love, the eyes of your friend.

“Huh? Are we on the beach? What happened?”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of your throat and you hug her tightly. Confused but sweet, she reciprocates with reassuring pats to your arm.

“Yeah, we’re on the beach. Let’s get you home.” You sit up and smile as she fusses over the sand in your hair. Normalcy is slowly but surely returning. “I’ll tell you everything on the way there.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst x reader #twst jade #twst fanfic #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

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cypherthesuccubus · 23 hours

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Rekindle Our Spark~

Alastor x reader -Part 2- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!

Warnings: smut, 18+, predator/prey, murder, S&M, bondage, knife play, blood kink, marking, cock worship, pussy worship, body worship, dom/sub, breath play, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, breeding, creampie, rutting

Other tags: Fluff and Angst

Aftercare always!!!~✨

Part 2 is here, my darlings~ Let’s see what entertainment is in store for you~ 😈✨(Sorry for the slow updates. Mom life has me busy lol 😂)

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

Humming a tune, I make my way down the streets of Cannibal Town; occasionally being greeted by the friendly folks that reside there. Quite a lovely place. I find myself visiting here quite often than most. Most of my errands I run take place here, since it’s literally not far from the hotel. I soon arrive at Roise’s estate, which has a severely long line out her door everytime I pay her a visit. She really has done a number here; keeping every cannibal citizen in line. One must admire her stunning work she has put into this town. Without it, well…..let’s just say there will be more than angels to worry about. I make my way through the doors; maneuvering through the crowd as I make my way towards to the front of the line. Rosie was chatting up to….ugh……Susan. As a gentleman, it’s difficult to keep one self restrained when having a conversation with that woman. It’s almost as if her mission is to make your life more of a living hell than it already is. Other than Lucifer, she’s the second person I can’t stand to be in the same room with. Finally that wretched woman left; right before giving me a glare as she passes me. Someone should really put her in a box and throw her down the fucking river. (lol sorry I couldn’t resist putting a reference 😂)

“Good morning Miss Rosie! How are we doing on this lovely hellish day?” I gesture a slight bow as she makes her way to me; pulling me in for a tight hug. “Oh it’s going wonderfully! It’s been a minute since you swung by to visit me, since extermination day.” She looks at me disappointed as I straighten my bow tie “Yes, I do apologize for not gracing my presence, since then. But, I have a good reason as to why and is also the reason I’m here now.” She smiles as she gestures me to sit down in one of her velvet chairs that’s paired with a darling little cafe table. “Please! Do tell what has brought you by this time Alastor.” She takes her seat across from me as she snaps her fingers; signaling one of her servants to hurry over with some tea and snacks. “Well, my dear, I have been…finding some trouble to have a full nights rest due to some….pesky flashbacks that seem to be on repeat every night I try to sleep.” She nods “So is this like nightmares or reliving terrible memories?” She looks towards her servant bringing the tray; decorated with a beautiful Victorian tea set with a small frilly box of pinky fingers. The servant gently places the tray onto the table; taking a step back “Thank you dearie! You may go now.” The servant bows “Thank you ma’am.” My ears instantly perk up. That voice…..sounded familiar.

I turn to face the servant as they got up mid bow. My eyes widened when the servants face was in full view. Despite the demon form, I instantly knew who was standing in front of me. The one who has been haunting me…..(Y/N). She takes her leave from the table; returning to the chaos of the room to serve any other guests she needed to. “Alastor?…your spacing out there.” Rosie breaks me from my thoughts as I try to compose myself “Oh it’s nothing to worry about, my dear. But yes; these dreams are definitely memories that I keep reliving every night.” She hums; placing her finger against her chin to think of my predicament. “And you can’t think of any reason why this has been happening?” I shake my head “Not a clue! But I feel like a good herbal tea might smooth things down enough for me to sleep properly.” She looks at me with confusion “I do have some special herbs to help with sleep….but you sure you want to suppress this rather than to figure it out naturally?” I chuckle at her undermining me “Of course, my dear! I know how to handle things on my end perfectly fine naturally! I just need a little sleep aid is all.” She hums; snapping her fingers again signaling (Y/N) over once again. She brings a small intricate box; handing it to Rosie “Sleep aid herbs for you, Miss Rosie.” She bows one more time as Rosie takes the box from her hands “Thank you again, dearie! You can go back to your daily chores for the day.”

I watch as (Y/N) walks back to the crowd. It’s definitely her judging by the look of her face; especially the sound of her voice. I wonder how long she’s been in hell for. How did she get to be an assistant to Rosie? So many questions that need to be answered. “Alastor, dear? You’ve been staring at my assistant a lot. Are you sure you’re doing alright?” I shake my thoughts once again; turning to Rosie with wide smile “Oh never better, my dear! Thank you for the herbs! I will definitely put it to good use.” She stares at me curiously; slowly sliding the box into my hand “Ok then….just know if you need to talk about anything. My door is always open.” I stand up from my chair; dusting my coat as I give a slight bow to her “I appreciate it, my dear! It was lovely chatting with you. Please do have a pleasant rest of your day.” She smiles as she waves goodbye; turning on my heels as I make my way through the crowd once again. In the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of (Y/N) again. She was in the supply closet; looking through the variant cleaning supplies with a frustrated look on her face. It looks as if she needs help in which I grin wildly as an idea pops into my head. She didn’t seem to recognize me over at the table. Maybe if I…..jog her memory a bit….she might remember who I am~

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

Come on!! Where is that damn duster?!?! I’ve looked high and low in this closet and I can’t find it anywhere!! Maybe it’s in a different closet? It couldn’t have gotten that far. I feel a sudden chill up my spine; feeling as if someone was watching me, which oddly felt familiar. I slowly turn around to see if anyone was looking into the closet, but everyone was minding their own business. I start to panic a little when that chill grew more intense as if whatever was staring at me has gotten even closer……a lot more closer. As I was about to step out the closet, the door quickly shuts in front of my face; causing me to yelp as I step back into something warm.

I froze in place; not wanting to move as I felt slow breathing on my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut as I feel a sharp claw; slowly graze against my neck as it moves a strand of hair behind my shoulder. “Well well well…..it’s been a long time hasn’t it, little doe.~” That voice. I knew it sounded familiar when I first heard it. Though I can’t be sure. “Please….let me go. I’ll do anything.” The man chuckles darkly as he whispers in my ear “But you don’t have anything of value to me…unless you can convince me otherwise.~” I turn my face to the man; giving a sultry smirk as I look into his glowing red eyes. “It’s nice to see you again….Alastor~”

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flaming-green · 1 day

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hi here are some accounts to follow if you're barely getting into the dead poets society fandom !! this is a veryyyyy long post im so sorry. if anyone wants to be removed from the list please tell me !! @kylacxie

first on the list !! @desire-mona (they/them). mona is everything and I love them. makes the absolute best posts ever and is just so fucking funny. you will see rsl posts very frequently. also posts about house md frequently. one of the best mutuals ever !! their tags under stuff they reblog are the best okay, they're either agreeing with you or it's something like "hey. *leans up against my anxiety diagnosis*" that's an actual tag I've gotten from one of their reblogs btw.

and now @i-am-in-love-with-todd-anderson (she/her). ania is one of the sweetest people ever and is so supportive. also very smart !! her analysis posts over the movie make so much sense and are mostly things I would've never thought of but still make so much sense. (those posts are either so depressing or are just a nice little experience.) also, she's like in love with Meeks. do I need to say any more.

@askthedeadpoetssociety (she/her). also just such a nice person. makes beautiful fan art and takes requests !! pretty sure she barely joined herself so there's not much else to say but I am very excited to see what her blog leads to !!

@pinksnail55 (she/her). everyone knows pinksnail55. we've only recently learned her name is Caroline !! her account is mainly reblogs, which I think is absolutely perfect. you would never miss a single amazing post.

@cimacally (I don't know pronouns, sorry). is also pretty new to the fandom ! comes on every once on a while to post the most accurate headcanons you will ever read in your entire life, reblog a thing or two, goes away (?), and then repeats. blog is still definitely worth checking out !!

FANFIC WRITERSS

@cowboylexapro (he/him). I've read a few of his pics and they're absolutely amazing and I would definitely check them out !!! his blog is also cool so that would be something to check out. (AO3 user: cowboylexapro)

@gayfandomnerd225 (it/kit/mae). absolutely had to include mae. has fifteen works so far and they're great !! writes both angst and fluff btw so choose your fav idk. also. please check out fog's blog !! especially the "queerdads duo" tag. (AO3 user: GayFandomNerd)

@aguyinthepubliceye (he/him). had to include the other half of my queerdads. porto. hello. he has two works and they're some of my favorites still !! also please check out his blog too ! he's funny as fuck and loves to traumatize my brother and I ( @amorisastrum ). though I wouldn't give him too much credit, user gayfandomnerd225 has those days too. (AO3 user: guyinthepubliceye)

I know @perksofbeingpoet (she/her) is a fanfic write too ! I'm just not sure if there are any works in this fandom yet. (AO3 user: perksofbeingpoet)

@chrisginny (she/her). if you're a chris x ginny enjoyer, then her blog is the place to go !! mainly only writes for that ship but it's great ! it would be nice to check out her blog as well just saying !!:) (AO3 user: ecarte)

@good--merits-accumulated (he/him). I read one of his pics the other day and it was one soo good. (Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route) is what it's called. I highly recommend it !! is a fantastic writer and seems like a really nice person !! (AO3 user: mistermerit)

if I'm missing anyone, go ahead and reblog with people !! the list was getting long but here you go !!

#amazing people #all of you #again tell me if you didn't want to be tagged !!:)#dead poets society #dps #dps fandom #dead poets fandom

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sulkybender · 2 days

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for a moment the world turns gold

or: a fanfic I am posting on Tumblr for some reason

tags: time travel loop as metaphor for growing up abused, canon-typical child abuse, Zuko needs a hug, Zuko needs a boat, hurt/comfort, hurt Zuko

The first time he wakes up with his old face he thinks it was all a dream, everything that came before. It was a nightmare about the way things could have gone, and a warning, and Zuko takes it to heart.

In the war room he says nothing, and when it ends his father pulls him aside.

His silence, Ozai says, was weakness.

And then he burns Zuko’s face.

—

The next time he wakes up, he feels at his face, gasping. It’s all clean skin, good skin. And he speaks with authority at the war meeting, and his father pulls him aside.

He had no right to speak, Ozai says. He is a child.

And Zuko burns.

—

When Zuko wakes up again he panics. He stays in bed for a long time, longer than he should, trying to breathe.

He remembers the feeling of his father’s hand covering his face, the heat and sting of it, then white-hot pain and then much less, as his nerves died.

And he shakes in bed, crying, and when his father drags him out and asks why he slept through the war meeting, Zuko can’t tell him the truth, because the truth is so much worse.

He didn’t sleep. He cowered.

And Ozai burns his face.

—

The next time he wakes up he goes to find his uncle, to ask for help.

He tries to stay calm, to sound like himself, even though he’s beginning to doubt he knows what that means anymore. He woke up this morning with a nervous tic, a tremor all down his leg.

“Please,” he says. “Please, Uncle. You have to help me. I can’t go to the war meeting.”

“Prince Zuko,” his uncle says. “Backing out of your duties only hours before is shameful behavior. You have made a commitment to the Fire Lord. And I put in my own word for you, you wanted so badly to attend.”

“Uncle,” he says, and his eyes burn so badly that he thinks it’s starting now. “Uncle, please.”

And he sits through the meeting, crying, and his father burns his face.

—

This time he pretends to be sick. He answers with the most wretched cough you can imagine when his uncle comes calling his name.

There’s the coolness of Uncle’s hand on his cheek, the softness of his disappointment. He knows, and shame is like ash in Zuko’s throat.

“Next time, perhaps,” his uncle says. “When you’re better.”

Yes, Zuko thinks, sick with relief. Yes, when he’s not the pathetic person he is now; when he’s braver, stronger, deserving of love. Better.

And his father drags him from bed by his hair, hissing about weakness, his weak and useless child.

Zuko doesn’t disagree.

And his father burns his face.

—

He speaks up again, because he knows what’s coming. His father tells him to rise and fight, and he rises, he fights.

The flood of fire he can’t break, seething, billowing in waves. For a moment the world turns gold. He could live in the heat of it forever.

The world is really very beautiful, even as it tries to dissolve you.

Then he feels the skin of his forearms blister and peel, and his father grabs his arms, twisting them. His vision goes white.

He falls to the ground, and burns.

—

He speaks up again, because he’s angry. He’s angry with his father; he’s angry with himself.

He’s trapped and he’s angry, and he hates what’s being done to these men, because it’s the eighth time he’s seen the generals discuss it openly and plainly, with such pleasure. And no one’s ever stood up for him, and someone should stand up for the people no one’s ever stood up for, and he knows, he knows, that if he’s forceful enough, compelling enough, his father will respect him.

What his father respects is strength. Zuko can be strong.

He speaks out, feeling the tremor in his leg, but it’s a tremor of excitement now, not just fear. He knows the right thing to do and he knows how to do it—the thing he’s never known, not just the force of his ideas but a shape—and he gives his speech with the kind of moral clarity that will make his father proud.

And his father burns his face.

—

The next time Zuko wakes up he stares at the ceiling for a very long time.

Then he goes down to the war room and his father burns his face.

—

The next days are like this, and the next.

—

After a while, waking up whole becomes more painful, almost, than being burned.

When he wakes up with his clean face, his good face. It means his suffering didn’t matter. He wants it to matter. If it has to happen, he needs it to matter.

He wakes up with his clean face, his mother’s face, and thinks she wouldn’t recognize the person he’s becoming.

—

The last time Zuko sits in the war room, he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He thinks he already has. The flames behind the Fire Lord’s throne lick and curl, shifting colors, and for a moment Zuko is too dizzy to stand. He could fall into that gold again, the loveliness of the world as it eats you.

But he does stand. And he gives the speech, not because he wants to get it over with or because he thinks his father will love him if he just gets it right, but because he’s accepted his father will never love him. That whatever he does he will always be burned. In a thousand worlds, a thousand lifetimes, there is no outcome in which his father does not burn his face.

And as he thinks about this, small hands clenching in his robes, he tries to imagine what it would be like to be his own person for the first time—not his father’s tool, not his sister’s.

“I’m not afraid,” he tells the generals, his father. “Whatever you do to me I’m not afraid.”

And he wakes up on a boat, face singing with pain, and his uncle holding his hand.

#atla #zuko #iroh #ozai #fanfic #atla fanfic #time loop as metaphor #finding meaning in suffering

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vbecker10 · 2 days

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Loki's Silent Sentry (alt. ending Part 1)

Part 2

This is meant to be read after part 2, instead of the original parts 3 - 7

**Seriously please do not read this without reading the trigger warnings**

TW: fire, life threatening injury, blood, death of a main character (if you message me I will tell you who in case that will change if you read this or not), mourning the loss of a loved one, loss of a family member, having to mourn in secret, depression, feeling alone, brief mentions of previous loss of parents, inability to move on, guilt

(Please let me know if I missed anything and I will add it)

A/N: I wrote the fluffy, happy ending for this story but I got this song (tagged below) stuck in my head and it felt like a really tragic way to end this story. The idea just kept getting more depressing and heartbreaking so I had to write it. I understand this is not for everyone, it's not even something I would usually read.

Please, please do not feel the need to read this because we are mutuals or because you read the happy ending version. I will absolutely not be offended if you skip it.

...Last chance to turn back lol 🫣

You close your eyes as he pulls you tighter to him, you are sure he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Are you really here?" you ask in a whisper. You fear he will vanish like one of his illusions the second you let go of him.

"I'm here my love," he reassures you. He kisses the top of your head and you look up at him. "Follow me," he says in a low voice.

You smile and nod, telling him, "You know I will follow you anywhere."

He takes your hand and leads you into the room he came out of. You can see he has been busy with his magic, his abilities have always thrilled and impressed you. The magically altered office is twice as large inside as it should be and is an exact replica of his chambers. You look around in awe and can't help but wonder if this isn't an illusion but one of his transportation spells.

He smiles with pride at your reaction and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him again.

"How did you do all of this?" you ask. "Its amazing... you're amazing," you tell him as you turn in his arms to face him.

"I'm afraid the young corporal spent has a large portion of her time this week dutifully guarding my empty office," he jokes and you laugh with him.

He smiles and kisses you, his hands traveling up and down the back of your thin shirt as he hold you close. "Stay here with me tonight," he says between kisses. He doesn't say it as a prince ordering his sentry but you obey his request without a second thought.

It is almost five months since your new Sunday night routine with Loki began. He would slip through the palace with ease after he dismissed his sentry for the night and you would take a left at the top of the stairs after his mother released you.

While hidden away, surrounded by his illusion, the two of you could pretend everything was perfect. You love him with all of your heart and he loves you back just as fiercely. He would kiss you and hold you and tell you that you were his but the moment the sun came up, everything would change. You always did your best to hold back your emotions as you put your armor on and returned to your silent duties.

It devastated you every time you needed to leave him but you kept your pain to yourself. You were afraid to ruin the small window of time you had with wishes and false hope that things could somehow be different.

You stand silently outside of the queen's office and let the smallest smile slip when you notice Loki coming down the hall. He offers you a brief smirk in return as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N, is my mother in a meeting?" he asks you.

"No, your highness," you respond, shaking your head slightly.

"I would like to speak with her for a moment," he tells you and you nod.

After knocking on the door, you wait for her to open it then step out of Loki's way. As he passes you, he carefully slips a folded piece of paper into your palm and you close it quickly. He goes inside, pausing for barely a moment to lock eyes with you before closing the door behind him.

You return to your position next to her door and tuck away the note for later, Loki's sentry stands at attention on the other side. You glance over at him quickly, you recognize him but can't recall his name. He had only graduated the academy a month ago, he was far too new to be guarding someone of Loki's standing but that was precisely why he had been selected. Loki had taken to choosing soldiers with limited experience and often replaced them every few weeks. He said he did this so they were less likely to notice he was slipping away to visit you but you joked that it was because he would never be able to find a sentry to fill your place.

The door opens fifteen minutes later and both the queen and Loki step out into the hall. She closes the door behind her and says, "Prince Loki is going to visit the blacksmith and I've decided to get some fresh air and go with him."

You and Loki's sentry nod to acknowledge the plan. You both follow mother and son down several hallways and winding staircases until you finally reach the steps leading to the courtyard. As you step out into the sun, you take a deep breath and close your eyes for a quick moment. The palace air could be stale at times and you always welcomed a chance to spend even a few minutes during the week outside.

Its almost a twenty minute walk to the blacksmiths, past the stables and a well used for the horses. The apprentice steps out of the one story wooden structure to pick up a few cords of wood that are stacked neatly out front. He opens the door and yells something to the man inside, presumably that the queen and prince are coming. He opens the door and bows his head as they walk past to enter, you smile at him a bit to hopefully help ease the young boy's nerves.

The blacksmith bows to Loki and the queen as they enter and the boy shuts the door once you are all inside. You can't help but look around, you've never been in here before but Loki had told you about his frequent visits. You can feel the heat from the tall fires of the forge off to your left and the breeze that flows through the open windows at the far end of the building. Large timber rafters line the steeply pitched roof and a small rainbow shines onto the sawdust covered floor, caused by the colored glass in the door.

Your attention is drawn back to Loki, as it always is when he is near. He begins talking to the older man, the apprentice's father you assume due to how similar they look. They discuss the knives Loki had previously ordered, a set of two daggers with black leather handles and gold inlays in the shape of a coiled snake. You try not to smile at how obviously Loki his request is.

Your focus shifts to the apprentice, he can't be older than nine or ten you think. He takes something from his father and brings it to the office space in the back then returns with a wooden box containing different types of metal to select from. The queen joins in the conversation with her son and Loki's sentry leans against the wall near an open window, staring off into the forest beyond.

You keep your eye on the boy, watching him run from one errand to the next for his father. He brings things to him and is waved off to find something else, only to do it again. In between helping gather the materials, he continues to feed the forge. He has added at least four logs since you arrived, surly that was plenty to keep the fire raging, you think but truthfully you know little about blade work and forging swords.

Several more minutes pass, Loki and his mother are deeply engaged in conversation with the blacksmith who has easily convinced Loki to get a second set of knives. His sentry has disappeared into his own little world while you continue to observe everyone quietly as you stand near the door.

You stretch a bit and cover your mouth as a yawn slips free, you should really stop reading until the sun comes up, you scold yourself. Suddenly you stand up straighter and sniff the air again, breathing deeply. You can't quite place the smell but the heat from the forge has gotten stronger. Your eyes immediately find the boy who is frozen with fear as he looks into the fire.

Blue flames erupt from the metal and stone enclosure of the forge.

Without thinking, you move to the young boy and grab him by the arm, pulling him away from the rapidly growing flames. Once his feet start moving, you push him in the direction of the door and look for the queen. As soon as your gaze is away from the forge you hear metal grinding and a loud crack as the chimney buckles under the sudden and immense increase in temperature.

You look back to see the fire spark and spit embers onto the sawdust spread over the floor. Walking backwards from the forge, your eyes move up as the fire spreads to the roof of the structure. Smoke quickly begins to fill the air and your eyes sting as you fight to keep them open. You watch in horror as one of the rafters on the ceiling splinters from the flames and you run towards the queen, you know the building won't be standing much longer.

You keep your arm around her waist until you've guided her safety outside. She takes a few steps away from you and sits heavily on the grass, coughing from the smoke. You look back towards the burning building, the roof already partially collapsed as the trusses are destroyed by the flames.

Smoke billows out of the open door and you quickly turn to count that everyone is out. The queen, the blacksmith, his son, Loki's sentry... but not Loki.

"Loki!" you scream, scanning the field in front of you in the hopes that you somehow missed him. You rush to his sentry who is on his hands and knees coughing and gasping for fresh air. "Where is he!?" you demand.

He shakes his head and doesn't respond, you grab his arm and pull forcefully, making him look up at you. You can see the fearful tears in his eyes but his feelings are not your concern, not while Loki is still missing. "Private, where is the prince?!"

"I don't know," he cries. "I just- I just ran- I don't-" you let go of his arm and turn from him, unable to listen to his excuses.

You look back to the fully engulfed building and without a moments hesitation, you run through the open door.

"Loki!" you call for him, you cough painfully as you inhale the ash and smoke. You crouch and shield your eyes as the glass in one of the windows near you shatters. "Loki!" you scream as loud as your lungs will allow. You move forward, towards where he had been when you last saw him with his mother.

You cough harder as the flames surround you and you get low to crawl under the ever thickening smoke. "Loki!" you scream again, your heart racing as tears stream down your cheeks, making it harder to see.

"Y/N," you hear Loki faintly over the crackling of the fire and get up to run towards his voice.

Your heart pounds in your chest when you see him, trapped under part of a collapsed beam. He struggles to lift the large piece of wood, it's edges blackened by the flames growing closer. You grab the end of the beam nearest to Loki and lift while he pushes, it moves but not enough. Your grip slips and he screams in pain from the sudden movement. Your eyes fix on the blood that slowly starts to gather at the corners of his mouth, adjusting your grip you get ready to try again.

Before you and Loki can make a second attempt, a nearby section of the roof collapses. You instinctively use your own body as protection against the falling debris shielding his face and upper body, you hold back a cry as ash falls onto the exposed skin on the back of your neck.

"Y/N, please get out of here," he tells you, his voice hoarse when you sit up.

You shake your head no and tell him, "I won't leave without. Help me lift this."

Again, he pushes with what little strength he has left and you pull with every bit of strength you can gather. The beam moves enough that you can free him. You grab Loki under his arms and pull, he cries out every inch until he is fully clear of the beam. It devastates you to cause him pain but you have no choice. You wipe your tears on your arm and without letting go of him, you tell him you are sorry but you can't stop. You know if you do, neither of you will make it out.

You lay Loki on the grass behind the burning building, ignoring the sound of a wall giving way and kneel next to him. His fingers are dripping with blood as he reaches for you.

"Y/N," he says softly but you shake your head and avoid his gaze. You are too scared to look at him, you know he wants to tell you goodbye.

"I need to stop the bleeding," you say with as much determination and hope as you can force. You move to check his chest wounds and your heart shatters, your mind spins in shock and disbelief as you rip open the rest of his torn and bloody shirt. "No no no," you mumble to yourself in denial.

You move your hands to his chest in desperation, trying to cover the largest break in his skin but his fingers close softly around your wrist, keeping you from touching his wounds. Looking into his eyes, in a gentle tone he simply says, "Stop." His grip on your wrist loosens but you can't accept that there is nothing you can do for him.

You shake your head no again, "Please Loki..."

He tries his best to smile but the blood in his mouth makes him cough violently. You move so you can gently rest his head on your lap and you run your fingers through his hair damp. He raises his hand again to stroke your cheek and you close your eyes at his touch.

"Y/N," he says just above a whisper and you lean closer to hear him. "I knew you would come for me," he coughs and spits out a bit of blood. "You always followed me..." his voice trails off.

You smile through your tears and tell him, "I will follow you anywhere, I promised you that I would."

He continues to slowly stroke your cheek, wiping away your tears but leaving a light trail of his blood, "I'm sorry my love, but where I go now you cannot follow."

"No, Loki please," you cry, "I love you."

"I will always love you Y/N, more than anything in the nine realms," he says softly as his breath grows still and shallow.

"Stay with me," you plead, taking his hand in yours. "You're all I have left. Please stay with me," you beg him. "I love you. Please don't go, Loki, please."

His fingers slip from yours and you look down at his lifeless body, your chest tightens as you struggle to breath. You feel as if your heart is physically breaking, the pain is unbearable and consuming. "I'm so sorry Loki," you apologize over and over. "I was supposed to protect you, I should have protected you. I'm sorry, please."

"Loki! Loki!" the queen's voice rips through your grief and guilt as the rest of the building collapses, the fire still raging. You look up and see Frigga running towards her son, her eyes full of fear which turns to anguish as they met yours.

Getting up, you walk slowly backwards, your body on autopilot as you distance yourself from mother and son. She let's out an agonizing scream, a sound you will never forget, as she falls to her knees next to her youngest son. She cradles him in her arms and kisses his forehead, whispering to him as she rocks slowly.

You stand motionless a few feet from Loki's body and his mother, your breathing becoming more ragged as your chest tightens. You barely register the dozen or so workers who struggle to keep the fire from spreading across the field or the soldiers running with Thor.

"Mother! Loki!" Thor calls as he sprints around what is left of the building, desperately searching for his family. He gets closer and stops suddenly when he sees his younger brother laying in his mother's arms.

Frigga looks over her shoulder and Thor begins to slowly walk towards her, you can do nothing but watch his expression change as the reality of what he is seeing hits him. As he gets closer, she looks back down at Loki, wiping away some of the blood from his face gently. Thor kneels besides her, his hand on her back and she quietly says, "Loki is gone."

Your knees buckle at her words and you collapse onto the grass. You cover your face with your hands as your body shakes violently from the force of your sobs.

Loki is gone, your thoughts echo the queen's words. Loki is gone and it is your fault, your guilt adds. Loki is gone and you couldn't save him. Loki is gone but he shouldn't be. Loki is gone but you were supposed to give your life for his. Loki is gone.

You stand at attention in the center of the throne room in front of the royal family, the council and every high ranking officer from the royal guard. You keep your eyes straight ahead, focusing on a small detail on the wall beyond Odin as he speaks. You are too afraid to look anywhere else but slowly your focus drifts to the queen and where Loki used to stand.

She holds Thor's arm for support, her gaze fixed to the marble floor beneath her. Your chest aches at the sight of the queen in her black mourning gown and you hate yourself for wishing you could wear one as well.

This morning, every soldier in the royal guard was given a thin black piece of fabric to tie around their arm in memory of the lost prince. For five minutes, you struggled to tie it properly before a fellow sentry finally offered to help you. The members of your unit and palace staff no longer made mocking comments about the favoritism Loki showed for you but they would never understand the depth of your grief.

As a sentry, it was against protocol for you to show any emotion while on duty and that was especially true in your case. As far as the king and council were concerned, you meant nothing to Loki and it was made clear to you yesterday that you were not to mourn for him publicly. A part of you didn't care, what could they do to punish you that was worse then the hell you were currently living in. You didn't have the strength to disobey the king, however, it took every ounce of strength you had to simply get out of bed each morning. So here you stand, surrounded by nearly a hundred people, trying with all your might to keep from falling completely and utterly apart.

Frigga slowly looks up and your breath catches when you see the tears in her eyes. She doesn't seem to see you though, it is almost as if she is looking through you, her mind unfocused on the ceremony taking place.

You force yourself to pay attention to Odin as he continues his speech about what is being called "a tragic accident". The phrase sounds like nails scrapped across metal to you and you brace yourself so as not to shiver every time you hear it.

You were still not sure what exactly caused the fire to burn uncontrollably but it was quickly determined that the boy meant no one harm. He and his father had been cleared by the council of any wrong doing and were granted a small sum to rebuild their forge. You wish the boy well and hope he isn't being plagued by nightmares as you are.

Loki's sentry, however, is to be sentenced this afternoon. The day after the fire, he was brought up on numerous charges and subsequently dishonorably discharged from the royal guard. You had stood as a witness at his hearing, forced to recount every detail of that horrific day.

You hear Odin droning on but your mind can't seem to absorb what he is saying. You continue to watch him though, knowing it's almost time for you to play the part of the noble hero.

He gestures for you to step forward and you follow his command, kneeling when you are just a few steps from him. He walks towards you and says, "Lieutenant Y/L/N, you are being awarded the Medal of Royal Protection for your actions during the tragic accident three days ago. This honor is bestowed upon sentries who have risked their lives to save, and attempt to save, a member of the royal family. Thanks to your bravery, my wife, Asgard's queen was escorted to safety."

He pauses, his eyes finding Frigga before he turns back to the crowd of soldiers and council members gathered around you. "We are all heartbroken over the loss of Prince Loki. My son's life was woefully cut short... far too short," his voice trails off for a moment and you think he may let his emotions show but he clears his throatand continues. "But that does not overshadow your extraordinary act of heroism. You risked your life by going into a burning building and in doing so, you have given us the chance to say goodbye to Prince Loki properly, which is what he deserves."

Your throat feels like it is closing, your eyes sting as you fight desperately to keep the gathering tears from slipping free. Your head pounds as you prepare to receive a medal for saving the queen but not saving Loki.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N," he motions for you to stand. He takes a round golden medal with a red ribbon from a council member and pins it to your dress uniform. "Asgard and I thank you for your continued commitment to protecting and serving the royal family," he says and you feel nauseated by the applause that spreads through the throne room.

This is the song that inspired me, if you listen to the end you will see why. Again... I'm sorry to everyone who reads this that I hurt you but I just needed to get this story out of my head. If you want the happy ending version please read the original part 3 (linked at the top) 💙💙

If you did like this, please like, comment and share! Thanks! 💚💚

@siconetribal @soubi001 @lulubelle814 @newtomofgods

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