#leaving this before i attempt to tuck myself in for the night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iluvies · 2 months

Text

IT’S ONLY A LITTLE CRUSH!

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, sukuna, choso, yuta, higuruma

summary: he could name all of the moments you’d caused his cheeks to turn pink just from the way you’d smile at him. . . or was it because you’d catch his eyes lingering on you a little too long? whatever it is, they are completely smitten with you! scenarios with the jjk boys who are completely enamored and obsessed with you.

warnings: gn!reader, fluff, suggestive content in toji n sukuna’s, reader is called pretty a lot, sukuna calls reader brat

GOJO SATORU

୨୧ . his eyes followed your movement, locked on the way you smiled and laughed at his jokes. although satoru soon frowned slightly when your hands came up to try and cover your face. “why are you hiding your face?” he’d asked, reaching over to gently tug your hands away much to your displeasure, “you look cute when you laugh.” satoru was almost offended. why would you want to hide your face from him? especially when he was admiring the strands of hair that’d fall in front of your eyes with each warm smile and giggle. “i love that flustered smile of yours.” if only you could see the way he was internally kicking his feet.

୨୧ . “satoru, you’re spilling water everywhere.” your voice interrupted his thoughts as he looked down at the spilled water all over the table. his face turned a deep red color and he smiled sheepishly at you, mustering what was left of his confidence to make a joke—which really wasn’t a joke—to hide the fact he was embarrassed, “i must’ve gotten lost in your eyes.”

୨୧ . both satoru and an exhausted looking nanami sat together on a small bench by nanami’s workplace. unfortunately, the tired man had gotten caught up in satoru’s rambling about you; how perfect you are, how he couldn’t possibly be in love with someone so utterly perfect, and how he just wanted to kiss your pretty lips until you needed to breathe. “just tell them how you feel.” nanami said, taking a bite of the small bread in his hands. “i can’t. i’ll embarrass myself again. . .” satoru sighed, causing nanami to shake his head a little. unbeknownst to satoru, you had been rambling to nanami about your growing affection for him as well.

GETO SUGURU

୨୧ . you had sought company from suguru while crying your eyes out after a rough day. he let you inside and wrapped his arms around you, letting his hands fall to your hips and trace lazy circles with his fingers. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” suguru murmured, soaking in the warmth of your soft skin. “i’m sorry, suguru…” you whispered quietly, gripping the back of his shirt. he squeezed your hips gently when he heard the sound of your voice. why would you apologize for needing comfort? he would gladly comfort you if it meant holding you in arms each and every time.

୨୧ . suguru draped the blanket over your body, watching as your chest rose and fell with every breath. in his eyes, you looked peaceful, beautiful even. “i don’t want to be alone tonight.” you murmured, peeking your eyes open to find his. he offered a smile and tenderly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “you won’t be. i’ll be here for as long as you need,” suguru promised, his thumb rubbing your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you, “don’t worry that sweet head of yours, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”

୨୧ . the nights were peaceful when the two of you walked alone together. lingering glances at each other and the soft “sorry”s that’d leave his mouth when he’d accidentally brushed his hand against yours. “you look really pretty, y’know that?” suguru said, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, “so pretty.” with a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head away shyly. feeling him press a hand to your lower back, you peeked at him. “suguru. . .” you managed to breath out, before you noticed the sly smirk beginning to present itself on his face. oh, he knew what he was doing.

NANAMI KENTO

୨୧ . he stood in front of your door holding a small box of custard-filled hot cakes, eyes drifting to his watch with each passing second. he texted you ten—no, twenty minutes ago letting you know that he would be coming over. he was sure you got his message. before he could check his phone, you open the door with an apologetic grin. “sorry for keeping you waiting, kento. i was doing some touch-ups to make sure i looked—“ “you always look good.” you blink a few times in confusion. “huh?” nanami went stiff, a subtle blush on his cheeks. he had assumed you were going to say “good”, but judging from the look on your face he had been mistaken. this thought was immediately lost when you laughed, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “you always look good too.”

୨୧ . nanami’s coat hung loosely on your shoulders, his cologne immediately filling your senses. “you’ll catch a cold.” he said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. you hadn’t expected it to be so cold that night, leaving you in clothing that didn’t protect you from the freezing breeze. fortunately for you, you were walking with a gentleman. “thank you, nanami.” you offered him a kind smile, in which caused him to turn his head to the side, hiding the flustered expression on his face. “i just don’t want you complaining about being sick tomorrow.”

୨୧ . “stay still for me, sweetheart.” his calloused hand wrapped around your ankle, gently yet firmly pulling it closer to him as his fingers found the laces on your shoes. his eyebrows were furrowed whilst he tied your shoelaces, completely focused on making sure they were tied properly. “it’s not too tight?” nanami asked, glancing up at you. you shook your head, cheeks burning red. seeing how you reacted so shyly, he chuckled lightly and patted your knee before standing up. the things this man would do for you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

୨୧ . the both of you had an argument yesterday, resulting in you pettily giving toji the silent treatment. what you didn’t expect was to see the man at your door holding a bouquet of flowers. watching you stand there awkwardly, he rolled his eyes and held out the flowers, smiling sarcastically at you, “i didn’t buy these flowers for myself, sweetheart.” hesitantly grabbing the bouquet, you let out a sneeze. “i’m allergic to flowers.” “just take them.” you pouted slightly and feigned an exasperated expression, “i don’t know if i can forgive you. . .” your voice trailed, causing him to sigh and glance away, resting his arm against the door frame. “i’m sorry.” toji grunted with an annoyed look to his face. if only you knew how hard his heart was thumping in his chest.

୨୧ . toji stood behind you as you prepared some ingredients for your dinner date, his hands resting on the counter on either side of you and his chest pressed up against your back. you could feel his hot, shaky breath on your neck, lips dangerously close to pressing wet kisses to it. he was impatient and so desperate to feel you—your bare skin—touching his. “are you almost done?” his voice was low and gravelly. “almost.” you answered breathlessly, heat beginning to coil in your stomach and bit lower. “that’s good enough for me,” toji’s hands grabbed your hips, turning you around and sitting you on the counter, “i’ll be nice and take my time tonight.” a lie of course.

୨୧ . “what are you doing?” you let out a small yelp, practically jumping out of your skin. “toji! don’t sneak up on me like that! make some noise at least.” you had been so caught up in trying to scare him you hadn’t noticed him walk up from behind you. “hypocritical, much?” he muttered with a small smirk, raising his eyebrows at you as he stared at you knowingly. as you came up with different excuses, his eyes watched your lips and how they would move with each word spilling out of your mouth. your lips would feel so soft against his, your hands would push and pull at his hair whilst his kisses linger on your— toji knew he was long gone.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

୨୧ . you and megumi were sitting in a small restaurant awkwardly waiting for yuji and nobara to show up. “did you want to get some drinks?” you asked quietly, fidgeting with your fingers as you barely glanced up at him. his cheeks had a faint blush that increased gradually, his eyes shifting to your face before quickly looking elsewhere. “we should.” megumi mumbled, reaching for the menu on the table, accidentally brushing his hand against yours as you had gone to reach for it too. “sorry.” he retracted his hand almost immediately, his face burning in embarrassment. “it’s fine.” you reassured, giving him a small smile, albeit nervously. your knee bumped into his, but instead of pulling away like he did when your hands touched, he stayed still. “maybe we could share a milkshake? to save money.” real smooth, megumi.

୨୧ . a small whine fell from your mouth as you failed to knock the last pin down, “i really wanted that panda plushy.” megumi’s eyes narrowed at the pin that stood standing. oh, he was going to win you that panda. you let out a dejected sigh and began walking away slowly, not noticing the boy now determined to stay at the stall until he wins you the panda plushy you wanted. “maybe next time, huh, megumi. . . megumi?” your head turned so that you were looking over your shoulder, just to find him holding four different stuffed toys and most importantly, the panda one.

୨୧ . your hands patted down the snow, trying to make the spherical shape of the snowman’s head. with a confident smile, you took a step back and showed megumi your wonky looking snowman. “how does it look? i put a lot of effort into it.” he blinked a few times, trying to process what he was seeing. “it looks good.” megumi replied rather stiffly. he couldn’t help but melt a little at your expression, a little lie wouldn’t hurt, especially if he got to see you smile because of it. “i knew you’d like it! it looks like you, doesn’t it? all cute and grumpy looking—“ “i do not look cute or grumpy.” “i can see you blushing.” “i’m just cold.”

YUJI ITADORI

୨୧ . “let’s watch that one!” you looked over to where yuji was pointing on his phone, finding the movie he has been talking about nonstop. not to mention, the movie that you’d already watched before. “no.” his jaw dropped, hands flying to grab your shoulders. “please? just this once?” yuji gave you his best puppy eyes before you reluctantly nodded with a sigh. “one more time.” you said, giving him a playfully stern look. he smiled widely and hugged you tightly, swaying you side to side, “so this is like a date then?”

୨୧ . yuji’s hand steered the wheel, eyes glued to the racing game displayed on the screen. “i’ll win for sure!” you both made a bet that the loser had to buy a game for the winner, and he was sure to win. unfortunately though, you surpassed him in the last the second, driving the car across the finish line. “that’s not fair, you distracted me!” by distracted, yuji meant he couldn’t stop looking over at you when he noticed your concentration and focus in winning the bet. it made a light blush dust over his cheeks and his brain to fog up with thoughts of you.

୨୧ . his hand reached over to steal a bit of your food. “i saw that.” he looked away with a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders a little while he quickly brought the food to his mouth. “no you didn’t.” yuji said, feigning innocence. “i’m watching you right now, idiot.” a small chuckle forced its way out of his mouth before he began laughing loudly, causing you to laugh along with him. yuji felt comfortable around you, despite all the times he would become flustered when you’d catch him doing dumb things. he hopes you feel the same too.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

୨୧ . he thought it was cute how you would hesitantly reach for him. sukuna was a large man, undoubtedly towering over everyone that came across him. but you were different. all these little things you would do from your expressions to your actions, it had his cold heart defrosting piece by piece. “why are you looking at me like that, brat?” his voice held clear amusement, eyes basically glaring at you. because of your obvious height difference, he purposely placed things out of your reach, finding enjoyment in you struggling to grab the items you needed. “you need to use your words.” sukuna was going to give you those things either way, he just couldn’t resist making you end for it first. but you’re his favorite human after all, he couldn’t upset you now when he still had so much more waiting for you.

୨୧ . even the king of curses needed breaks, especially with your hands gliding up and down his back with a cloth. “do you think i’m made out of glass?” sukuna grunted, a hint for you to apply more pressure to your scrubbing. his arms rested on either side of the tub, peering down at you through the corner of his eyes while you focused on scrubbing his back. not that you would notice his growing soft spot for you, but his words weren’t as hostile when directed at you. “you make yourself useful. perhaps you can use your hands elsewhere.” he muttered slyly, his lips curling up into a smirk.

୨୧ . “you think i want this pathetic thing?” you had taken the time to make him a bracelet despite the fact that you knew he would dismiss your efforts, you were slightly disappointed and taken aback by his tone. “i just thought. . . i’m sorry.” you bit your lower lip and pulled your hand back before he grabbed your wrist, making sure to stop you from moving away. sukuna didn’t feel bad. at least that’s what he told himself. “i never said i didn’t want the bracelet, brat.” this was out of pity, not because he wanted to see you give him that warm smile of yours or that pretty blush on your cheeks.

CHOSO KAMO

୨୧ . “this feels nice.” your hands combed through his hair gently, thighs on either side of his head. “does it?” you asked. choso hummed and kneaded at your calves absentmindedly, eyes closed while he just enjoyed the feeling of your touch. you were so wonderful, and sweet, and perfect, and everything he’s absolutely wanted in life. if only he could spend all of his time laid back on your couch, head squished between the plush of your thighs, with your hands messaging his scalp. notice how it’s all ‘your’? he can’t picture anyone else in your place. especially that place in his heart he’s reserved solely for you.

୨୧ . this man is no doubt completely lovesick with you. the way you handle yuji with such care and kindness. . . it has his heart aching. “thank you.” choso said, looking over at you. he thought everything about you was absolutely beautiful, from the sweetness in your gestures all the way down to the heartfelt words spilling from your lips. “for?” you asked, looking at him with a tiny chuckle. “looking out for my brother.” his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh and how you shake your head. “you don’t need to thank me for that, choso.” he loved you so much it just wasn’t fair how you weren’t his yet.

୨୧ . although he came off as blunt and emotionally detached to most, the man sobbing in your arms definitely didn’t come off as that. choso’s tears stained the front of your shirt, the one you reassured him not to feel bad for getting wet. “my brothers. . .” he didn’t need to finish that sentence and you understood. you always did. the deep love for his brothers who he had no way of showing it to anymore broke his heart. “deep breaths, everything’s okay. you’re allowed to cry.” your embrace was his favorite, and will always be.

YUTA OKKOTSU

୨୧ . he had his head propped up with his palm as his elbow rests on the desk, his eyes following and admiring your every moment. you were so pretty. . . the strands of hair that fell in front of your eyes while you leaned over the notebook to write notes or do small sketches. yuta was jealous of the others who could openly talk to you. he could barely talk to you without stuttering or turning a bright red, his face immediately turning down towards the ground. just like now. “did you want to hang out after school?” you asked curiously, “we could get some ice-cream?” he nodded, still avoiding your eyes. “as in a-a. . . date? y-yeah, that would be nice. if you don’t mind!” yuta’s heart was racing, hands sweating profusely. he wasn’t dreaming was he? “it’s a date.” please, kiss him now.

୨୧ . the way you stood over him, staring down at his tired form on the ground made his skin blaze. “it’s like you’re letting me win. do you like losing, yuta?” by you? he would gladly let you win. even if he probably didn’t have a chance of winning in the first place. “i-it’s not like that! i just—“ his voice immediately shrunk into nothingness, lips pressing together when he watched you lean down. yuta prepared himself for what you were going to say, the serious expression on your face making his heart sink a little. your lips parted slightly before he tried spluttering an apology, making you giggle at him amusedly. “i was only teasing.” you made him feel so lightheaded.

୨୧ . yuta never thought the day would come when you would fall asleep and rest your head against his shoulder. not that he was hoping it would happen—a lie. you let out the most quiet breaths, lips parted just enough to show a gap where your upper and low lip met. the train wasn’t too crowded at this time, thankfully for the both of you. should he wake you up soon? “i’m sorry, yuta. . .” your voice pulled him out of whatever thoughts he was having about you, “i didn’t mean to fall asleep.” a gentle smile graced his face, his hand hesitantly pushing your head back to his shoulder. “it’s okay, i don’t mind as long as it’s you.”

HIGURUMA HIROMI

୨୧ . a low groan reverberated from his chest, eyes rolling back. “thank you.” he murmured, the tension in his shoulders easing until he felt like putty in your hands. “you’re always so stressed, hiromi,” you sighed, continuing to massage his shoulder blades, “i wish you would take some time just for yourself.” before he could stop himself, the words spilled off his tongue, “why would i need to take some time just for myself when i can spend it with you?”

୨୧ . your perfume was one of the many things he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into his office. no— it was the only thing he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into the dull room he called an office. you always smiled at him when he looked in your direction, offered him coffee when he’d let out a yawn, and stole glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. he was utterly infatuated with you. “are you alright?” higuruma’s head turned in your direction. “sorry?” you tilt your head with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “are you feeling okay?” he paused for a moment before replying with a muttered response, “just thinking.” “about?” higuruma swallowed thickly, his gaze finding the files on his desk. how could you expect him to respond when you looked at him like that? “nothing of importance. . . to you.”

୨୧ . this man enjoyed having petty arguments with you, watching you either miss the joke he made or get upset at him for pointing something out. the way your eyebrows would furrow and your lips would form a tiny pout when he would bring up embarrassing moments of you. don’t think he did this to mean, he just loved getting a reaction out of you. “the office wasn’t built for you to slack off.” he said, giving you a sideway glance as a smirk grew on his face. “i’m not slacking off.“ you scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him. higuruma simply shrugged and chuckled slightly, “just kidding.”

2K notes · View notes

blueicequeen19 · 4 months

Text

Methods

Warnings: non-con, drugging, kidnapping, use of toys, overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, choking, throat training

My eyes water as I blink against the hardness of the single lightbulb in the mildew, scented shack I'm being kept in. It was dark when they grabbed me and it appears to be still dark outside judging by the chill in my bones from still being in my bikini. I curse myself for not listening to my brother when he told me not to go anywhere alone. I didn't think that applied to night surfing in my own backyard. I shift my weight from foot to foot, my wrists killing me from being tied together with scratchy rope and suspended above my head.

My brother will make them pay.

I will make them all pay.

"She lives." I turn towards the voice, my hands balling into fists as JJ Maybank steps into the light. I didn't notice him before but I quickly take in the black duffle bag on the small wooden table, a single chair, and a small folding bed.

"You sound disappointed." My voice cracks, my lips chapped and in need of water. I don't even sound like myself.

"More like relieved. I gave you a pretty high dose to knock you out. It would've sucked if I accidentally killed you." Bits and pieces of our altercation start to come back to me and I smirk over the sight of his busted lip. His face remains hard and his eyes stay narrowed. I know I'm in a bad situation and what this is all about but I can't find it in myself to care. If I die protecting my family then I do.

"You're awfully cocky for someone tied up." JJ bites out, stepping closer to glare down his nose at me. I try to seize the opportunity of his closeness but he's quicker, his ringed fingers wrapping around my throat and shoving my back against the wood paneling before I can attempt to headbutt him.

"Don't even think about it." JJ growls, tightening his grip to the point that my eyes water and my throat burns. I thrash against him, worried I'll pass out when he finally loosens his grip enough to let me suck in a rough breath.

"You.. might as.. well skip to... the torture because I w-won't.. talk." I spat, his hand still hot on my throat. His thumb strokes my pulse point as he leans into my neck, his musky cologne filling my head as he inhales deeply.

"You smell like a wet dog." JJ murmurs, his lips next to my ear. I jerk against his hold as his hand tightens around my throat again. "But there are other ways of getting someone to talk." His voice lowers to a sinister whisper that has panic settling deep in my bones.

"Not so mouthy now, are ya?" JJ taunts as he shoves his knee between mine and presses against my pussy, making me squirm and whimper.

"Girls like you who are used to being in control want nothing more than to be dominated. Tied up, held down, and fucked until they can't walk." I jerk against him, unable to speak from the tight grip on my throat as he moves his knee back and forth. I stare up at the ceiling, blinking back tears as heat floods my body and my pussy throbs with need.

"I can feel how hard your nipples are. Still don't want to talk?" JJ whispers, his lips grazing my cheek while his free hand tugs on the strings of my bikini. A scoff leaves my lips, giving him my answer and I feel him smile.

"I guess we'll play then." JJ suddenly steps back, removing all forms of himself from my skin and I suck in a breath as my pulse echoes in my ears. I watch as he shoves the table and chair closer than rummages through the duffle bag. His eyes light up when he holds up a pair of nipple clamps and I bear my teeth in warning.

"Let's start with these." JJ steps back in front of me but hesitates, almost like he's waiting for me to spill but I refuse. I glare at him as he tucks both of the bikini triangles to the side to reveal my painfully hard nipples. It's from the stimulation.

"These would look so much better pierced." I look away as he secures the clamps to each of my nipples, a chain connecting them in the middle, then he tightens them until tears fill my eyes.

"These are going to be so sore tomorrow." JJ chuckles, returning to the duffle bag. My nipples are on fire and I have to take several breaths to calm myself while he searches for whatever it is he wants next. They almost hurt more than my wrists. But I don't care what he does to me now. He'll have no choice but to let me go eventually. People will come looking.

When his bright blue eyes find mine and his lips tip up into a mischievous smirk, I know he's found what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he's able to conceal in the palm of his hand as he steps back in front of me.

"Are you dripping yet?" JJ purrs, his free hand pulling the ties free on my bikini bottoms. They fall to the floor, leaving me bare for him.

"Fuck you." I spat, clamping my legs closed. He tugs on the chain between my nipples and I cry out, my legs immediately opening again.

"Let's start with this." He holds up a small pink vibrator with a string attached that is almost shaped like an egg. He presses it to my lips but I seal them shut until he tugs on the chain again and my lips part on a cry. JJ shoves the toy past my teeth, making me taste the silicone as he forces it in and out of my mouth.

"Suck on it. You want it wet." JJ demands, his eyes dark with desire. I do as he says, staring up at the ceiling as the droll starts to drip down my chin. When he yanks it from my mouth, followed by a string of saliva, he spins me around to face the wall before I can protest.

"What are--." My words trail off with a startled yelp as he yanks my hips back and spreads my cheeks.

"Wait--wait--!" I cry as he squats down behind me.

"Ready to talk?" JJ asks, looking up at me with hard eyes. I bite my lip, refusing to give in as I shake my head.

The toy is pressed to my hole and he slowly starts to push it inside me. Burning pain practically blinds me and I cry out, fearing the pain will never end when it finally does.

“Now?” He asks, sliding his hand between my thighs and chuckling by what he finds. I hate him. HATE. HIM. I'm shaking and sweating from the fullness, my clit throbbing in tune with my heart rate. I feel him move then the thing comes to life, vibrating inside me.

A choked moan leaves my lips as he forces me to turn and face him again. The vibrations are low enough to be irritating but not enough to get me close to an orgasm yet I can’t stop my legs from shaking. His expression is mocking, like he’s trying not to laugh as I whimper and squirm in front of him. I hate him even more.

“I bet you’ve never had anyone back there before, have you?” JJ taunts, smiling as he taps something on his phone and the vibrations increase. A startled noice slips past my lips and I quickly clamp them shut, glaring daggers back at him. He pockets his phone and grabs my hips, yanking me against his chest. Pain shoots through me from the pressure against my abused nipples but I refuse to make a sound.

“I’m going to fill all your holes if you don’t talk.” His voice lowering in warning as he speaks in my ear. I lift up on my toes, the buzzing driving me crazy with need. I wonder if I can cum without any vaginal penetration or clit stimulation. I’m teetering on the ledge as his warm hands start to slide up and down my waist in an almost soothing manner. The light touches raise the hairs on my arms and send sparks up my spine.

“I hate you.” I growl through clenched teeth, my pussy pulsing almost painfully as his hands start to drift lower but never giving me what I need.

“And I want to hate fuck you.” JJ murmurs back, the tip of his tongue suddenly sliding along my neck and making me whimper. I can’t focus. There’s too much stimulation. A finger brushes over my clit, making my hips buck and a loud moan escapes me.

“Please..” The word slips out of me before I can stop it. I try to lean into his touch but he withdraws, resorting to light touches that have me squeezing my eyes shut.

“Squeeze your legs together.” JJ demands, stepping back and unbuttoning his tented cargo shorts. I’m burning with anticipation as I watch him free his painfully hard cock and stroke himself a few times. I’m too busy watching him that I fail to listen so he steps forward and yanks on the chain connecting my nipples, making me cry out and tears spill.

“Last chance to talk. I get wanting to be strong for your brother but he’d sell you out in a heartbeat. You have to know that.” JJ growls, the heat of his cock burning against my stomach. I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak anymore. I’m blinded by desire and know that I’d end up begging him to fuck me.

“How do you think this is going to go?” JJ reaches between us to guide his cock between my thighs and through my slick wetness. My eyes threaten to close as he moves in and out between my lips without slipping inside.

“What will he think when I send him a video of you begging me to fuck you? Will he cut his losses or try to find you?” I shake my head, whimpering as I roll my hips to meet his movements. I’ve never ached to be filled so badly in my life.

“You’re awfully wet for someone who hates me.” I try to turn my head away when suddenly the vibrations in my ass increase and I sob loudly, his hands tightening on my hips.

“I’d only have to put the tip in and you’d make a fucking mess all over both of us.” His pace increases as he thrusts his cock between my pussy lips.

“I can’t..” I’m shaking violently as I peer up into his bright blue eyes. Everything hurt and was buzzing with need.

“Tell me where your brother is and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make you cum so hard you pass out.” I whimper when he leans in to kiss along my neck, the heat of his body burning me alive. I can’t think while his cock is being thrust between my thighs.

“I don’t need you to make me cum.” I bite out, glaring at him as I move my hips in time with his thrusts. JJ gives me a wicked grin before halting my movements with a firm grip on my hips. I growl in frustration as he steps back, dick swinging before he turns to rummage through the duffle back again. When he pulls out a wand vibrator the size of my forearm I nearly start sobbing.

“Wait.. JJ..”

“Start talking.” JJ growls, turning the wand on high and running it down my stomach towards my mound.

“I can’t tell you where he is because I don’t know where he is.” I cry, tearing filling my eyes as he stops less than an inch from my clit. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I can’t catch my breath. I need to cum so badly I can’t see straight.

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes are murderous as he moves the wand to my clit and I suck in a breath to scream when four of his fingers force their way in my mouth. The pleasure is so intense that it quickly turns painful. Tears fall as I gag around his fingers and he makes me cum so hard that everything goes black for a few seconds.

I lose track of how many times I cum. I’m practically convulsing and tears are streaming down my face while I gag around his fingers. My pussy is sore beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Not that I ever had experience before this.

“You need to work on that gag reflex.” JJ clicks his tongue, smirking at all the droll sliding down my chin as he forces his fingers to the back of my throat.

“A slut like you should be a pro by now.” JJ sneers, removing his fingers from my mouth and putting them in place of the wand. I’m fighting to catch my breath, my jaw aching as he toys with my labia, massaging and rolling the flesh between his fingers.

“I’m not a slut.” I pant, just as one of his fingers penetrates. His eyes narrow for a moment as he pushes in just a little deeper before they widen in disbelief.

“No fucking way.” JJ whispers, shaking his head with a smirk without withdrawing his finger.

“I told you.” I snap with what little strength I have left. My body was aching to be filled. I could tell with how crazed I felt from just his finger half inside me. I was seconds away from fucking myself on his hand.

“This just got a lot more fun.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #wattpad #tw dark content #dark!fic #blueicequeen19 #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank

520 notes · View notes

hazelnutsforellie · 1 year

Text

STRAWBERRIES & CREAM | E. WILLIAMS ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— farm!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— what's better than breakfast in bed? ellie might have an idea...

WARNINGS— smut [18+], language, fluff, established relationship, ellie cooking for you, switch!ellie, switch!reader, fingering (r rec), oral sex (e rec), pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.), overstim, praise, hair pulling, dirty talk, etc.

WC— 4.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— switch!ellie was not supposed to make an appearance but i couldn't help myself halfway through lmao. special ty to jen & bindi for helping me finish this xx

MDNI | MATURE CONTENT AHEAD

Light humming sounds pulled you from your groggy daydream as you made your way out of your bedroom, causing you to pay more attention to where the sound was coming from.

A gentle smile tugged the corners of your lips as the sweet smell of freshly griddled pancakes evaded your senses. The wooden floorboards noisily creaked beneath your feet, though they could not overpower the frying noises from the kitchen.

You groggily wiped your eyes, surprised that you did not wake up when your girlfriend left your shared bed, leaving you tucked into the cozy comforters. She had managed to carefully creep out of the bedroom in an attempt to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but the smell woke you before she could complete it.

Ellie cooking for you wasn't a daily occurrence, though it wasn’t rare either. Since Ellie was frequently busy with outdoor work, or other crafts, you had taken on the cooking role. Because of this, Ellie often feels guilty and takes it upon herself to cook for you, despite you having no problem with it. You often teach each other tips and tricks that you've learned from others and various cookbooks when you would cook together, and Ellie would make sure to pay attention every single time.

The hums grew louder as you made your way through the dining room, toward the kitchen. Your shadow pierced through the rays of sunlight pushing through the various windows of your farmhouse, the early morning sun soaking into the wooden floorboards.

As you got closer to the kitchen, you glanced through the window above the sink and noticed that Ellie had already herded the sheep into the barn, the empty grass blowing freely along with the wind.

Upon fully turning the corner, you spotted Ellie rummaging through the cabinets above the counter, clearly searching for something in particular. Her eyes were franticly darting from side to side, her sleeves being rolled up just past her forearm. Her toned arm flexed as she reached into the cabinet while she held a kitchen towel in her left hand, bottles and glasses clinking together as she searched. She looked as if she'd already showered, and had managed to get dressed without you waking up.

"No syrup? You gotta be fucking me right now," Ellie uttered to herself in annoyance before sighing in defeat, closing the wooden pantry doors shut. She flung the hand towel over her right shoulder and made her way toward the fridge, pulling the door open to search for a replacement.

Upon reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a bowl of strawberries that you had picked up from Jackson not too long ago. They were already washed and cut, bringing a smile to Ellie's lips. She then placed the bowl on the counter before pulling out a sauce pan, placing it on the stove beside the pan full of pancake batter.

“Ellie?” you murmured, lightly groaning from your aching muscles. Your life was in the best position it could be, retired on a farm with your long-term girlfriend, along with your animals. Living with your girlfriend had its perks, many perks. Day and night. Your sex drive was just as bad as Ellie’s, and the amount of free time that you have doesn’t help. Because of this, you often woke up with tender muscles.

You heard a faint gasp in response, seeming to catch Ellie off guard. Her head whipped in your direction as she continued to drop the chopped strawberries into the sauce pan on the stove, her eyes glistening in excitement to see you despite her surprise being tainted.

“G’morning, babe,” Ellie replied with a gentle smile, enough to crinkle the skin of her eyelids. You stepped toward her as she simultaneously turned toward you, her hands finding your waist the closer you got. "Sleep well?"

“Mhm, I could smell it. Couldn't wait any longer,” you said, nodding toward the food with a smile while you wrapped your arms around the back of her neck, leaning up to meet her lips in a chaste kiss before she placed another on your forehead. She turned toward the stove to tend to the pancakes, you arms finding their way around her waist from behind. You leaned into her, smelling her scent that made your stomach do somersaults as you nuzzled your cheek on the back of her brown button up.

“Well, can we still eat it in bed? I really want to eat it in bed,” Ellie repeated as she slightly twisted her neck to see you, not wanting her plan to go completely to waste. You weren't sure why Ellie saw a point in getting dressed, but then again, she did go outside and do her morning tasks.

You nodded against her back, soaking in her warmth, causing Ellie to smile to herself. She enjoyed the feeling of your arms wrapped around her form like you were nearly holding onto her. She loved how affectionate you were, constantly craving your touch.

You heard the faint plop of each pancake as Ellie flipped them, followed by the sizzling of the butter, insinuating that they were nearly finished. You shifted along with Ellie as she stepped over to work on the strawberry topping, watching her break the fruit apart with a wooden spoon inside the pot.

"Is there anything I can help with?" you asked as you released your grip around her waist, even though you already knew the answer.

"No, just relax," Ellie waved you off, making you chuckle as you made your way out of the kitchen, to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix yourself. Even though you were about to get right back in bed, you didn't want to feel gross.

When you finished, you could hear faint sounds of tweeting birds and Ellie's mumbling as you made your way back to the kitchen. As expected, you spotted Ellie at the stove with the kitchen towel remaining draped over her right shoulder, still stirring the strawberries in the sauce pot. They were finally turning out how she wanted, bringing a smile to her lips.

When you walked in the first time, you didn't notice that the counter beside the stove was littered with cooking materials and ingredients, assuming that you were too tired to regard it.

“You wanna head out to Jackson later?" you offered with a tilt of your head, merely suggesting it. You didn't need anything in particular, but you didn't want her feeling cooped up after staying home for a few days. Ellie enjoyed farm life- the quiet, the peace. Not to say Jackson wasn't peaceful, but for Ellie, there was a significant difference. "Or, we could just... entertain ourselves. That's always fun, right?"

You realized that the pancakes were nearly finished, all but one resting on a plate on the counter beside the stove, closest to you. Your light, dirty joke caused a gentle chuckle to erupt from Ellie's throat as she flipped the last pancake onto the plate.

"We'll see how we're feeling after we eat," Ellie finally answered, hiding a smug smile.

Your eyes followed Ellie's movements as she dropped the last pancake onto the plate in front of you. On impulse, and because you were hungry, you reached down to grab the one she dropped, your eyebrows raising in anticipation to taste it.

"No, stop," Ellie said as she softly but quickly smacked your hand away. You looked up at her with a bewildered expression, meeting her sincere eyes before she added, "It's hot."

You playfully rolled your eyes despite a smile remaining on your lips, your hand faltering back to your side. Ellie then dipped her pointer and middle finger into the strawberry sauce before tasting it off her middle finger, softly humming in satisfaction.

"Mm. Here, taste this," she said, offering you her pointer finger to taste it.

"Oh, but that isn't?" you joked in a sarcastic tone about it being hot, making her scoff. She glanced over at the strawberry sauce that continued to softly boil in the pot before looking back at you.

"Shut up," she shot back, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips as she brought her finger closer to your face. "C'mon, it's not."

You quirked an accusing brow at her before reluctantly parting your lips, your eyes falling on her fingertip as it approached your mouth. You willingly accepted it between your lips, sucking it clean as you held eye contact with her, fully aware of how it was going to end. Ellie carefully watched your facial expression, hiding a smirk as you smiled in approval.

The sweet, tangy fruit caused a hum of satisfaction to bubble in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as Ellie slowly pulled her finger back, feeling the way your lips were firmly wrapped around it as she pulled away.

Something, you weren't sure what, clouded over Ellie's eyes. Her expression barely changed, but you could see the difference in the way she was looking at you. Her eyes seemed darker, colder, hungrier. A touch as simple as your tongue had Ellie's stomach doing somersaults, and suddenly she had completely forgotten why she was in the kitchen in the first place. You could hear the faint click of the stove being turned off, the knob being twisted by Ellie’s other hand.

"Ellie?" you quirked a brow as Ellie's hands suddenly found your waist, pushing you past the stove so she could ease your lower back against the edge of the counter. A smile threatened to tug on your lips as Ellie's head dipped to press rough, sloppy kisses on the gentle skin of your neck. You could hear the shuffling of Ellie’s mess on the counter behind you as she shoved everything to the side, making space for you.

“What?” Ellie innocently shot back with furrowed brows as she pulled away from your neck, her hands finding their way onto the edge of the counter on your sides to corner you, her chest nearly pressing into yours. A smile began to crack her straight face, realizing that she had quite literally done such acts on impulse, her high sex drive spiking at various times.

Fuck, the way she looked at you drove you crazy. It was a look of longing, a constant hunger for all of you.

Truthfully, it made you feel secure. The way she would look at you, you believed her every time she said she loved you. You believed she was in love with you. Sure, you’ve been together long enough to know that, but you could see it.

"Didn't you want to have breakfast in bed?" you raised your brows accusingly, earning a light pft past her lips, causing them to remain slightly agape.

"How d'you expect me to make it there when you do that? Hm?" Ellie defended in a teasing tone, slightly bending backward to make clear eye contact with you. She then let go of the edge of the counter, both of her hands finding their way to your waist, softly trailing down to your hips.

"Do what?" you retorted, acting as if you didn't know what she meant, causing Ellie's grip on your hips to slightly tighten, the simple touch nearly making you fold then and there. Ellie liked when you would talk back, fueling the fire she was desperately feeding off of.

"I jus' made you pancakes and you wanna act like that?" Ellie quirked a brow, her fingers slowly releasing from your hips to slip underneath the waistband of your shorts on your sides. The cold graze of her fingers nearly made you shiver against her, a soft breath falling from your lips. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, baby."

You were fully aware of what you did, you did it on purpose. You loved teasing her, seeing her get worked up, unable to stop touching you. You shrugged, looking up at her through your lashes, as you leaned against the counter, your elbows resting on the solid wood behind you. You were in a tank top with comfy pajama shorts. It was clear that you weren't wearing a bra, your sensitive peaks poking against the thin fabric of your tank.

"Ah, okay," Ellie nodded sarcastically with a calm tone, her fingers slipping underneath your shorts, tugging them down your sides with your panties remaining. "I see what game we're playing."

Ellie's fingers then found their way on the underside of your thighs, hiking them up before lifting you onto the counter. A gasp fell from your lips as Ellie did so, your arms flying around the nape of her neck for stabilization. Even if you wanted to protest, Ellie's movements were swift, but it was clear what you both wanted since you woke up.

Ellie suddenly yanked your thighs against her hips, pulling you toward the edge of the counter, your clothed heat making instant contact with her lower stomach. Her hands slowly trailed up your thighs until they reached the crevices, her thumbs applying pressure to your lower stomach. She loved touching you— every part of you.

Ellie nearly chuckled from how silent you'd become. You felt yourself clench around nothing as you watched Ellie's smug face, her eyes locked on your lower half.

"You got nothin' else to say?" she piped, looking up at you with raised brows as she used her right hand to slowly begin tugging your panties to the side, right near your core. A smile tugged on her lips when you didn't respond, her left hand gently pulling your thighs apart as she slipped the fingers of her other hand underneath your panties. Her cold fingertips grazed your folds, a huff puffing from your chest. Ellie looked up at you with raised brows, taken aback by your eagerness, but not surprised.

Instead of mocking you, Ellie leaned in to capture your lips with hers, instantly dipping her tongue into your mouth. Ellie eased a finger up your slit, collecting your wetness before she pushed in, a soft moan falling from your mouth and into Ellie's for her to swallow.

"Fuck, Ellie," you whined, feeling her ease in a second finger. She was so gentle, knowing how you needed to be touched. She knew your sweet spots, which angles worked best, what your body craved. It always started slow, and you weren't always sure when it would shift, but you weren't foreign to Ellie's need to please you, and her slight aggressiveness. It was hard for Ellie to control herself when it came to pleasing you. You were the same way, though.

"Faster," you whispered against her lips, which made the corner of hers tug into a grin. Ellie began to fasten her pace, but not as much as you'd liked. You reached to grip her hand, to try and force her fingers in faster, but she caught your wrist with her other hand just in time to prevent you from doing so. Ellie released your lips from hers, leaning back as she noticed how soaked your panties were getting the more her fingers plunged in and out of you.

"What do you say, pretty girl?" Ellie purred, tipping her chin up as if she was expecting a response. You huffed, your grip on the edge of the counter tightening, your knuckles turning white as Ellie continued to hold the wrist of your other hand behind your back.

A whine escaped your lips as you rocked your hips forward, craving more friction than she was providing. The ache in your lower half was controlling your movements, desperately wanting to reach that familiar high.

"Ellie—fuck," you nearly groaned, tilting your head back as the pleasure was slowly growing overwhelming. Your thighs flew together as you whimpered a small, "Please."

Ellie slightly frowned as you tilted your head back, no longer able to see your facial expressions or your eyes as clearly. She began to slow her pace even more, releasing your wrist to grip your chin with her thumb and folded index, pulling your face back down to her eye level.

"C'mon, let me see those eyes, baby," Ellie purred, earning your eye contact nearly immediately. She then released her grip on your chin, separating your thighs as she began to fasten her pace to your liking, earning a string of pitiful moans from you as her fingers thrusted into your sopping cunt.

Ellie's lips were slightly agape as she watched you, heavy huffs falling from her lips as she continued a steady pace. You were trying your best to not arch your back, to avoid Ellie punishing you for breaking eye contact.

"How does it feel, pretty girl? Talk to me."

"Feels s'good," you whimpered, your arms shaking as you managed to stabilize yourself on the counter, still sitting up. Ellie's eyes were darting from your face, to your covered tits, to her fingers disappearing inside of you repeatedly. She didn't plan to stop, she didn't want to stop until she was satisfied. "P-please don't stop. Please."

It clearly did not take long for Ellie to have you withering beneath her, begging her to push you to your release.

"I know, baby. You're doing so good," she praised, gently curling her fingers inside you. The action caused a loud moan to rip through your throat, your legs quivering as you tried your best to keep them apart, which did not go unnoticed. "Good girl."

You could feel your muscles begin to freeze, your chest heaving as you felt the coil within your lower stomach grow tighter with each passing second. Ellie noticed the shift in your breathing and the way you tensed, fully aware that you were close to your release.

"Fuck, Ellie, 'm gonna come," you whimpered, your legs beginning to tremble. Ellie began pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your lips as she continued to pump her fingers at the same pace. To her best ability, she began to swirl her thumb on your sensitive clit, gradually tipping you over the edge until you completely spilled. "F-fuck!"

Incoherent sounds fell from your lips as your orgasm crashed into you, striking you in the best way as Ellie continued to pump her fingers into you, unable to stop herself so she could listen to the sloppy noises coming from your cunt.

"That's right, baby. Such a good girl," Ellie whispered in your ear before finding a well-known sweet spot on your neck, softly licking the sensitive skin before suckling until your skin was tinted purple. You couldn't control your eyes from rolling back, relishing in the feeling of Ellie's fingers working wonders as well as her tongue on your neck.

The pleasure was quickly growing overwhelming as you came down from your high, Ellie's thumb on your clit continuing to swirl various patterns. You reached out to grab her wrist in a second attempt, successfully halting her movements.

"What are you—" Ellie attempted to speak, but you were off the counter in a flash, your hands landing on Ellie's hips to spin her around, forcing her back against the counter. You both liked to switch often, and Ellie wouldn't admit it, but she preferred to bottom a little more. Not that she didn't love seeing you whimper beneath her, she just loves when you take care of her.

"You think you could do all of this without something in return?" you teased, your hands finding the hem of her jeans to start unbuttoning them, quickly unzipping before peeling them off her hips. Ellie's cheeks began to tint pink, contrasting with her freckles. You were always able to fluster her, have her blushing and bouncing on her heels despite being together for so long. You truly had her wrapped around your finger.

You slipped your fingers beneath the hem of her panties, humming against Ellie's lips as she gasped against yours, feeling your cold fingertips glide between her slit. You couldn't waste time, how could you? One moment she had you shaking and moaning, another moment you had her blushing and tensing beneath you.

Ellie couldn't deny how soaked she'd become after seeing you beg for her touch, whimpering and grabbing for her. You knew she wanted her own release just as much.

"I make you this wet?" you purred, her wetness allowing you to easily slip a finger into her sopping cunt. Ellie sucked in a breath, her mouth falling agape as she held eye contact with you, her doe-eyes nearly making you want to just pull her to your shared bedroom. You didn't have enough patience, though. You wanted her taste her.

"Hm?" you hummed, raising a brow as you pulled your finger out, earning a whine in protest.

"Y-yes, yes. You do," Ellie answered desperately, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment from how pitiful she sounded. You smirked as you began to pull her underwear down her legs, listening to her desperate replies. You then did the same she did to you, slipping your hands underneath her thighs to lift her onto the counter, on the edge to give yourself access to her. Ellie watched you lower down to be eye-level with her cunt, slipping your arms underneath her thighs, holding them apart as you held them against your shoulders.

"Keep your eyes on me," you ordered, her bright green eyes glistening down at you as she nodded, her lips remaining slightly agape as her chest slowly fell in anticipation. She obliged your order, holding eye contact as your tongue darted out from between your lips, making contact with her core.

You slowly dragged your tongue up her slit, earning a loud moan in return as Ellie's slim fingers found their way to your head, pulling it closer to push your tongue further into her cunt. You lapped at her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue as a string of curses and moans fell from her wet lips.

"You taste so fucking good," you moaned against her, causing her thighs to quiver from the vibrations that coursed through her core, to her fingertips. Ellie replied with a pitiful whimper, her eyes never leaving yours as you indulged in her sweet folds. You lapped and sucked, her wetness coating your chin and cheeks as you buried your face further into her, earning many high-pitched moans in between desperate gasps for air.

Neither of you had anything else on your mind as the pancakes grew cold with each passing second. Instead of the frying noises that filled the kitchen mere moments earlier, all that could be heard were Ellie's pitiful cries and the sloppy sucking sounds of your mouth on her cunt.

"Fuck, yes! Just like that," she squeaked, her legs tightening around your face, hollowing your cheeks against her inner thighs. You yanked her thighs apart, holding them in place again as you quickly wrapped your lips around her bundle of nerves, softly suckling. Her breathing grew rapid, her moans changing in pitch as you pushed her closer and closer to her release.

"Ooh, oh, fuck," Ellie whined and huffed, unable to control her eyes from screwing shut as her back arched, which then forced her hips to buck into you. "Just like that, 'm gonna c-come."

Ellie's warning was the signal for you to plunge your middle and ring fingers into her, instantly curling them as you continued to suck and flick at her bundle of nerves. This action nearly caused Ellie to yelp in pleasure as you pumped your fingers into her, moaning against her clit to send her flying over the edge. You made sure to pay attention to her facial expressions, watching as her mouth hung agape, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body tensed underneath your hold.

Ellie shook as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching around your fingers as you continued to thrust them mercilessly, moaning against her clit as her eyes pricked with tears from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck. I n-need a second," Ellie bellowed with a huff, using the grip she had on your hair to pull your face away from her pussy, quickly growing overstimulated. You retreated your tongue, pressing gentle kisses on her inner thighs, which were coated in various tears from Ellie's uncontrollable need for you. You slowed the pace of your fingers as Ellie huffed, attempting to catch her breath as she looked down at you with hooded eyes. You pulled your fingers out of her swollen pussy, easing your fingers into your mouth to taste her. She watched as you did so, her hands moving to the edge of the counter to stabilize herself as you then stood back up.

"As much as you taste good, baby, I need some real food," you smiled, leaning your face closer to hers.

"Was that not filling enough?" she jokingly whined with a sigh, tugging on the sides your shirt.

"Mm, not quite," you hummed with a smug grin as she eased herself off the counter, gently squeezing your ass as she made her way over to the cabinet to grab plates. You knew she could keep going, but you thought it'd be smart to eat and stack your energy. There was no doubt in your mind that her planned 'breakfast in bed' had another meaning.

TAGLIST— @kurosaaki @urlocalgingersnap @bellswlw @evanpetersluver @shesluxurious @abbysbicepsss @elliesstar @slutf0rmilfs @dergy @lonelyfooryouonly @elliespookie @ellieluhme @wh0am111

#hazelnutsforellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfic #tlou ellie williams #tlou smut #the last of us smut #the last of us #tlou #the last of us game #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou

2K notes · View notes

pinkbunny268 · 2 months

Note

Hi!

Could I request Lucifer x angel! F! Reader?

Reader died and went to heaven, but is very curious about hell, so she sneaks out every now and again to hell to explore it. Reader makes herself look like a sinner, and visits hotel regularly since she knows its a safe place, also wants to support charlie and the idea of redemption. So she meets Lucifer there and is fascinated with him, since he isn't at all what he was described at both in heaven and on earth.

And during the hotel fight, she reveals herself while protecting the hotel as an angel and goes against adam

Omg !! Thank you so much for the request ! Absolutely, I love this idea so much <333 I took the time to set the scene so it’ll be a bit until you actually meet Luci !! Also don’t be afraid to request anything either <333

To be honest, I didn’t think I’d end up in heaven. In my eyes, I don’t think I did anything ‘heaven worthy’ I can’t remember how or why I died but when I opened my eyes I was immediately blinded by this bright light. I squint as I try to look around and see someone walking towards me. Their silhouette making me question my vision.

Wings and a halo? Oh boy, I’m actually dead.

The mystery guy revealed himself to be Adam. THE Adam. The first man. The first anything for that matter. And he’s… not what I thought he’d be. Hes proves himself to be very arrogant and cocky. As well as crude and brass. Not exactly what you think would be on the checklist of characteristics to have to get into heaven. But, clearly, God has favorites. Oh, and top of it he flirts constantly, calling me such honestly degrading nicknames.

“Alright, sugar tits, that’s it for the tour or whatever. Got a problem, you can call me~ I’ll make time for you when I can. Im a busy guy, y’know, being the first man an’ all.”

I fight back the urge to roll my eyes.

“Uh huh… I do have a question.” I reply, ignoring his obvious attempts at flirting.

“Don’t be shy, doll face, I can answer whatever question ya got! I am THE man.” He exclaims, chest puffed out and head held high.

“So… if we’re in heaven does that mean hell also exists?” He blinks at me.

“Dumb fucking question because obviously?” He scoffs, his posture slumped. My eyes sparkle at the thought. I may not be able to remember how I died, but I know that when I was still alive I had been fascinated with hell. Just the thought of different time periods of the world’s worst people all clumped in one place. Just imagine how chaotic that would be. And Lucifer. He’s the worst of them all.

As the weeks turned into months, I had gotten closer to Adam. To the point where I learned about the exterminations one night when Adam got drunk when he had stumbled to my home for comfort. Of course, I was sworn to secrecy.

Adam taught me the spell to cast to make a portal to hell and, of course in Adam fashion, we’d occasionally go down there and I’d watched as Adam would make fun of the sinners and hellborn that lived. I’d merely chuckle at his remarks but secretly I felt bad.

But id never tell Adam that.

So began my secret trips to hell alone. I’d tuck away my wings and halo and used body paint to make myself look like a sinner. Though I was contained in the pride ring I was content seeing hell this way.

I’d get a closer look at those who died and ended up here myself and I’d get to see the rest of hell with the protection of Adam.

During one of my lone visits I was walking around town when I found myself in a bit of a situation.

“Hello sweetheart~ wanna come back to my place and have some fun?” I had heard behind me and turned around to see a sinner backing someone else to a wall. The girl looked uncomfortable and didn’t chance a chance against the guy that had cornered her.

“No, I’m good.” She said shortly and went to leave. But the guy wasn’t having it as he grabbed her arm to pull her against him. My body acted before my mind could think and I found myself standing before the guy, fist clenched with blood on it as the man was on the ground. The girl had disappeared without a word. And I was suddenly hit with this Deja Vu feeling. Like, I’d been in this situation before.

Suddenly, I felt afraid. I went to go but the man I grabbed my ankle causing me to fall. I felt fear as I heard the man speak but I didn’t register what he said. All I knew was that I had to leave before I either got hurt or exposed.

As my very limited options raced through my mind, the man had let go. I looked over at him only to see two women standing in his place.

One was a blonde girl who had knelt down to my level, her eyes filled with concern as she gently placed a hand on top of mine.

“Are you ok?” She asked as she pulled me to my feet.

“We should go before that asshole comes back.” The other girl said, her voice low. The blonde girl looked to me her eyes pleading.

“Come with us, you’ll be save I promise.” I just nodded and allowed them both to lead me to what was a hotel. We entered and the blonde sat me on a couch. “Are you hurt? How’s your ankle? That man had quite the hold on you.”

“I’m fine…” I mumbled. “Thank you, by the way. For saving me.” The blonde smiled.

“Of course! I’m Charlie by the way and the other girl is my girlfriend, Vaggie. We saw how you rushed in to defend that girl. You were amazing!” She praised, stars in her eyes with a big smile. I give her a crooked one in return.

“Anyone would have done that I’m not-“

“No, they wouldn’t.” Vaggie interjected. “Not only because people down here suck but also because it’s not their business. Also, no one else was around. You’re lucky we were or else you could’ve ended up hurt.” Charlie let out a nervous chuckle.

“What she means is you were super brave but should be careful… people aren’t as nice as you.” She gives me a soft smile before getting up and walking over to Vaggie and drags her to a different room. They spoke in hushed whispers before I hear Vaggie sigh and Charlie let out an excited squeal. She races back to me and with a big smile asks me, “How do you feel about sinners being redeemed? Do you think it’s possible?”

“Um… possibly? I mean, if there’s any as nice as you two then I do.”

And that’s where it truly started. I had met the rest of the people who lived in that hotel and I can honestly say they are some of the best people I’ve met. Some were a bit odd like their housekeeper Nifty. But she’s a cutie. They acted nothing like how those made as sinners were supposed to. And him.

Lucifer.

He puzzled me most of all. When I had heard that he was coming to the hotel to possibly help out I felt frightened. He was a fallen Angel, there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to sniff me out. And on top of that, it’s Lucifer! Ruler of Hell which holds all of Earths worst people! But again, like the others he wasn’t what I was told he was like at all.

Adam had described him as “The absolute fucking worst!” Though, I’d say Adam’s a little biased, for good reason, but still.

I found him to be sweet and a little awkward. He was easy to talk to as he made an effort to get to know not only Charlie, which I found out was his daughter, but also the rest of us. And I found myself enjoying his company. Any time I had to go back to Heaven I felt sad. I missed everyone at the hotel. I missed him. Everytime I was at the hotel I was practically glued to Lucifer’s side. I found him so fascinating. He was nothing like I had imagined.

As you can expect, we had gotten close as the Extermination date was drawing near and I was happy yet scared for what was to come. Adam’s fucking attitude towards it all made it hard to keep quiet but I somehow found the patience.

Lucifer even showed me around the Pride Ring and all that it had to offer in terms of fun one day. Just the two of us… alone.

“You know… you’re a lot of fun.” He said randomly as we walked back to the hotel.

“Oh, yeah?” I said with a nervous tone. “Thanks…”

“You’re not like the other sinners…” He replied in a deep tone before his eyes widen. “I-I mean that, you’re like, uh pretty cool! Very nice! Good person to hang around!” He says quickly with a nervous chuckle, he cheeks redder than usual.

“Oh, um, thank you, sir. You’re pretty cool yourself…” with an awkward smile, I playfully punch his shoulder. As I’m retracting my hand, he grabs my wrist and keeps it close to him. His sudden grip on my wrist brings me down to his level.

“Please… don’t call me sir. Just call me Lucifer.” He says breathlessly, as if he’s begging for me to refer to him as Lucifer, not just a request. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked at me through half-lidded eyes. He looked so soft.

And here I thought I couldn’t get anymore fascinated with him. I could replay that moment forever… well, until an annoying voice ruined it and pulled me out of the fond memory.

“All right bitches! Time to fuck shit up!” Adam yelled as the portal to hell opened and they all dove in. Spears, battle axes and whatever else they used to kill those souls in hand. Before it had closed I rushed in and flew straight to the hotel, not that I had to go far since the portal was opened beside the hotel.

I quickly flew down near some rubble to hide and watched as the Angels attacked before a barrier was put up around the hotel. I could hear Adam screaming at (presumably) Lute that he obviously can’t see the giant fucking forcefield in front of them, which made me chuckle.

I stayed hidden for the majority of the fight, as I wasn’t equipped to really do anything and I was afraid to get in the way. At some point, the barrier had been taken down by Adam. However, when I saw Adam pick Charlie up by her throat I knew I had to act.

Taking off my disguise and letting my wing’s stretch as well as allowing my halo to show itself once more, I fly over to Adam and Charlie and snatch Charlie from Adam’s grasp. I fly her a good enough distance from Adam, still in the air and in my arms.

“Y/n..? You’re an.. angel?” Charlie says in awe, her eyes wide. I give her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to-“

“You fucking traitor!” Adam yells as he collects himself. “Fuckers like you aren’t ever allowed back into heaven you fucking bitch!” He declares as he flies back up and heads straight at us, his axe gripped tight in his hand.

My eyes widen in surprise and fear as turn my body, shielding Charlie with my body as i prepare for impact. But it never came. Instead, I hear Adam struggle before turning my head, Charlie still in my arms as I watch Lucifer throw Adam into the sign on top of the building.

“Dad!” Charlie yells as Lucifer flies down closer to us. He smiles at Charlie.

“Sorry I was late, sweetie.” His eyes flicker up to mine, a look of surprise and awe held in them as he stares at me. I feel myself blush slightly.

“Oh my… you’re…”

“An angel, I know I’m sorry-“

“Beautiful.” He finishes, eyes still staring at me with such a look of admiration I almost dropped Charlie. Out the corner of my eye I see Adam picking himself back up, half of his mask torn apart showing off his really face.

He goes on into a rant about how we should be worshipping him, he’s the first man, blah blah blah. Until a knife is plugged into his back and out of his stomach. He falls to the ground and Lute rushes to his aid, screaming his name.

My eyes tear up at the sight of Adam dying in Lutes arm. Lucifer gently grabs my hand and I quietly cry into his shoulder. After a few moments, he practically kicks the Exterminators out. Many of them hurt or wounded in some way and Lute grabs Adam’s halo and flies off, the portal closing behind them.

For the time being after that was spent rebuilding the hotel and mourning the loss of those who died. Once the hotel had been built I again found myself with Lucifer. We sat beside each other, his hand on top of mine. I looked at him, my eyes soft as I studied his face.

He was still as fascinating to me as when I first met him. And I’m so happy that I get to learn more about him now that I’m permanently staying in hell.

I hope you like this! It didn’t really go in the direction I wanted it to and I thought about rewriting it a few times but I think I turned out pretty alright! Forgive me if anything you wanted was left out, it’s been a while since I’ve done a request <333

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin fanfic #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #x reader #fluff #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin niffty #lucifer morningstar #requested #request

231 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 3 months

Text

let the light in

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2,177

warnings: (this is a heavy fic! please be aware before you read if any of this is triggering for you!) swearing, reader suffers from depression/is in a depressive episode, allusions to passive suicidal feelings and self harm (not explicitly stated), trouble eating/drinking, wooziness, side effects of self-neglect, trouble with self care, one use of y/n, slight hair description—essentially reader is just very depressed

a/n: hello! it’s been quite a while since i wrote anything, but alas i have remembered how. i used this fic as a way to deal with things i’ve been going through and provide myself some comfort, but i’m hoping that it will reach anyone else who needs that or understands these sort of feelings. i really need a steve, and maybe you do too. please be kind! this is a tentative attempt at getting back into writing. also as a small note, this is meant to bet set in the mid 90s, so reader and steve are in their twenties. happy reading <33

————

The phone is ringing again. For the third time.

You know who it is without having to answer. It’s not like there are a plethora of people with your number anyway.

But for the third time, you let it ring. When the shrill noise stops, you think you’re in the clear—only for the sound of Steve’s voice to reach your ears. He’s leaving you a voicemail.

Fucking answering machine.

You stare at the wall, your arm dangling off the bed, while you listen to him say everything you knew he’d say. That he’s worried. That he’s coming to check on you because your lack of an answer is freaking him out.

And you gave him a key all those months ago, so it’s not like you can stop him. You wouldn’t have the energy to anyhow.

You roll over and tuck your hands under your cheek. You have no idea what time it is, but the little light your curtains had let in is gone, leaving your room dark. There is a small night light though, just under your window, that Robin bought you because it looks like your favorite flower. Other than that, your small apartment has succumbed to the darkness of a winter evening.

That pressure behind your eyes builds, and without knowing why, you begin to cry. Steve is going to see you like this, and you want to be alone. You don’t have it in you to talk about it or be berated for letting yourself go.

But you’re also angry. You don’t understand why he gives a shit about you, or why he can’t just leave you alone. Why he can’t just let you go. Why he won’t let you go.

Most of all you’re angry at yourself for being this way. For being so fucked up. For being alone and for having to watch everyone else be happy and content.

In your emotional haze, you fall back asleep. You’re not sure how though, considering you shouldn’t even need the rest anymore. But that tired feeling ever goes away, does it?

You wake to the sound of footsteps, to the feeling of your mattress dipping behind you. There’s a gentle weight on your side. Steve.

“Hey, honey,” he starts. “Did you get my message?”

Steve’s hand rubs softly back and forth over the dip of your waist. You hate the pitying tone in his voice. Even if you know it’s not pity. It’s pain. He’s too big of an empath, and he hates seeing you this way. It breaks his heart, not knowing what you’re feeling and having to see you in a way that embodies nothing more than a shell of the you he first met.

“You need to go home, Steve,” you say, refusing to face him. He’s turned your lamp on, and something about that pisses you off.

Your voice is pleading, and it brings tears to Steve’s eyes. He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead.

“You know I can’t do that. I won’t leave you here like this.”

You roll your eyes and shift onto your back. Steve’s stomach drops at how drained you look.

“I want you to leave. I need to be alone,” you say, staring at his hand where it’s moved to your stomach with the change in position.

Your words are harsh, thick with emotion, and you look at Steve like you’re begging him to see how much you’re hurting and need him to go away. You want him to listen and leave you here to slowly disappear. That’s all you’re asking for. So why can’t he give you that much?

It’s killing him to see you like this. To watch you try and push him away. He knows that’s part of your plan. That way it’ll be easier, in the end. But this is not the you he’s always known. There was a time before it got this bad. Before you lost yourself in it.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, rather than fueling your frustration.

You roll onto your side, completely facing him now, and pull the blankets up to your chin. Your eyes fill with tears, so you close them. Something about being asked that upsets you. You don’t feel like eating and he’s going to make you.

Steve puts a hand on your leg and waits for an answer.

“Yesterday. At breakfast. I had a Pop-Tart.”

He keeps himself from sighing, but his heart might as well have dropped out of his ass. You haven’t eaten in 36 hours, and he’s sure that if he hadn’t shown up you might’ve made it more. You’re clearly not worried about eating, and there’s not a single cup in your room either.

“Please don’t make me eat, Steve. I don’t feel like it. Please don’t make me do anything.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes. You want to be left here until your body gives up on you.

“Honey, I’m not going to force you. But I came here to help you, and I need you to try and let me.”

Your vision goes blurry, tears rushing to the surface because the idea of taking care of yourself in any way upsets you more than anything. You cover your eyes, but can’t hold back the sob that lurches up your throat.

“Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”

Steve slips a hand around your back, coaxing you upwards. You oblige, happy to let him hold you for a moment. You ignore the fact that your vision blurs again, due to the fact that you haven’t sat up in who knows how long, and fall into him.

“I can’t, Steve. I can’t do anything or remember a damn thing. I’m so tired. I don’t feel like being alive. I don’t want to move.”

Hearing you express those feelings through your cries, hearing you tell him how bad it’s gotten tears him apart. He wants to make it all better. He can’t bear seeing you like this. And he doesn’t want to imagine what you might’ve done to take these feelings out before he got here.

Steve holds you until you stop wailing, and even when you pull away the tears still come, hiccups making you hold your breath. Your eyes are swollen and your nose won’t quit running. It doesn’t bother him one bit.

“I know you probably don’t want to do anything, so I have a plan for you, okay? I’m gonna turn the shower on and let you hop in while I get you something small for dinner. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

You sigh. You can’t leave your bed. Besides, who knows if you’ll even be able to stand with how little you’ve put in your body lately.

You press your face into Steve’s shoulder and shake your head. “I don’t think I can.”

He places both hands gently on your cheeks and lifts your face to get you looking at him.

“You can. I’m going to help, I promise. You won’t have to do anything too demanding.”

Steve slides off the bed and stands. He gently pulls the blankets back from your lap, revealing criss crossed legs and socked feet. He taps your knee and you brace yourself against the mattress, moving your legs over the side, toes feeling for the floor.

He holds out his hands and you grab hold of his forearms, letting him pull you upwards. Just as suspected, your vision swirls and your body goes all tingly. You sway a little, but Steve holds onto you still, waiting for the moment to pass. After a few seconds, your sight clears, your ears stop ringing, and you can stand on your own. “I’m okay now,” you say.

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You don’t deserve this. He needs to stop being so good to you when you’re falling apart.

“Stretch a little, alright?” Steve looks at you over his shoulder before going for your dresser and opening your pajama drawer.

You try to do as he says, ignoring the way you feel compelled to tell him not to take this so seriously. You press your hands to your back and lean so your hips pop, raise your arms so your shoulders do the same, and bend so harshly that your vision goes out again. Your body is so angry with you.

You’d closed your eyes, but open them when you hear the shower start running. Steve leaves your small bathroom and walks toward you.

“I laid everything out for you, okay? You don’t have to stay long if you don’t want, you only have to cover your bases. You’ll feel so much better after, I promise.”

You nod, and Steve is surprised by the way you hesitantly walk into the bathroom and mentally prepare yourself to shower.

“Yell if you need me,” he says, smiling before he closes the door behind you.

You’ve never wanted to shower less in your life, but the water is already running, and you have to get it over with. You quickly undress, avoiding the mirror and anything that might cause an extra ache. Though you do run a hand over the tender skin of your thigh before opening the door and stepping in. You know you have to be kinder to yourself.

As for bathing, you’re quick, but you wash and condition your hair and make sure to wash your body just as well. You’d never admit it, but being clean does help some. At least you’re physically taken care of.

When you’re finished, you realize you hadn’t gotten a towel, but your eyes soon find what Steve had laid out for you.

Two towels. Underwear. Your robe. Clean pajamas and socks. Not to mention the lotion and hairbrush he slid forward on the counter so you’d reach for them. He did all of this to make things easier for you. And that makes your heart grow in size.

You towel off and make the effort to put lotion on as best as you can. Usually you can haphazardly do your back on your own, but you’re so tired now, you realize. You haven’t moved this much in days.

You gently pull the bathroom door open. “Steve?” you call. He’s there within seconds.

“Yeah? All done, sweetheart?”

“Almost. Do you think you could put lotion on my back for me? I might need help with my hair, too. If you don’t mind.”

He smiles so sweetly at you. “Of course I don’t mind. Come on.”

You watch as he pumps some of your lotion into his hands, sniffing it just to make you grin. You move your robe down off your shoulders so that he can get to your back, careful to keep your chest covered. Not that he’d dare look anyway.

His hands are gentle and soft against the nape of your neck, up and down your spine, on your lower back. He covers the area for you, taking the time to massage it in and hopefully provide you a little relief.

When he’s finished, you pull your robe up and tie it around your waist. You don’t have the chance to reach for your hairbrush because he’s already got it, fingers gathering your mass of hair towards your back. You can feel the heat of him behind you, and the ache for physical contact surfaces in your chest.

Steve is incredibly gentle when detangling your hair. He starts at the bottom and works your way up, apologizing each time it snags. It feels so nice, so mundane and comforting, that you close your eyes and let yourself feel his hands on your scalp, on your shoulders. You let him take care of you without complaint.

When that’s over he allows you to finish dressing. You slip into the pajamas he’d chosen for you, not disregarding the fact that the shirt is one of his.

You patter out to the kitchen, where Steve has fixed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut into triangles. You sit next to him on your couch and eat in the quiet of the evening, you enjoying being less alone and him glad to see you eating.

He takes your empty plate from you shortly after, noticing how sleepy you look.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go lay down, yeah?” He helps you up and holds your hand on the way to the bedroom. He’d changed your sheets while you were showering.

You sit down on the bed, watery eyes looking up at him. “Are you leaving?” you ask.

“No, sweetheart. I was going to offer to stay.”

“Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Steve slips into bed beside you. “You don’t have to worry. I’m right here.” He takes your pinky in his. “I promise you won’t have to suffer through this on your own. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze your pinky against his, and in that moment, the pain in your chest eases just a little bit.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#tw: depression #tw: depressive thoughts #savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x depressed!reader #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: self harm

213 notes · View notes

general-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Don’t Trust Him. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: With Rhonda, Charlie and Wally trapped in the fallout shelter, Y/N is their only way out.

Word Count: 2,727

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings - Violence, Swearing?

A/N - So I know technically the ghosts don’t bleed but I felt like it was slightly better in this situation if they did so let’s just pretend they do. I also apologise for how rushed this is, I really just wanted to get something posted.

Before I died, my knowledge of ghosts was based on what I’d seen in movies. Completely fictional. Turns out there is no way of communicating with the living, nor any way of possession or torment. Not even a way of leaving the place you died. Unless you’re the exception. Which in my case, turns out I am the exception. It’s funny, in life I was very much average, no different from the other thousands of kids attending Split River High. Though in death, I’m powerful. Able to leave the place that the others are stuck, able to speak with the living if only for short periods of time. Mr Martin tells me I’m a vessel. That I should be careful because other ghosts may attempt to take advantage of my unique skills. However, I haven’t had any issues so far. In fact, I’ve done my best to help those trapped here to heal old wounds. Allowing them to forgive.

I’ve been here since 2007, over a decade and yet I’m still the newest ghost. Rhonda died in the sixties, Dawn the seventies, Wally the eighties and Charlie the nineties. Not that I mind, as much as we’re a weird bunch, we’re friends. Hell, I consider them family at this point as we have done nothing but support one another since dying. Wally even more so. He made a point of helping me get settled when I died. Sticking by me through all my meltdowns and the struggles I faced when coming to terms with the powers that I held. It’s safe to say we grew close.

So close in fact, that we’ve been dating for the past seven years. Contrary to popular belief, Wally is fairly shy and so it did take a good few years before either of us dared to confess our feelings. I can’t complain though, we’d been going to homecoming together for years at that point and as we lay on the field gazing up at the stars, he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. What followed was a pretty eventful night fuelled by passion and desire. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Which brings me to the present day, returning from my trip to the grocery store, I wander aimlessly around the hallways. Hoping to find Rhonda, Charlie and Wally, however, they are nowhere to be found. I must admit, the empty hallways are pretty eerie, with Dawn gone the air feels heavier. She brought a certain lightness to the school that can’t be replaced.

Entering the basement, I find myself swinging the shopping bag slightly. Attempting to give myself a confidence boost by acting as though it’s a happy, cheery place to be. Despite residing here for all the years, I’ve never once found myself in the basement, so as much as I am creeped out, I do use this opportunity to be nosy and explore everything on the shelves. Nothing peaks my interest though. Dusty old paint pots and garden tools aren’t exactly my idea of entertainment.

At that moment I begin to hear yells and shouts for help. My head spins in the direction it’s coming from and only then do I notice the huge metal door tucked into the wall. Hesitantly stepping towards it, the shouts get louder, pleading for help. The voices sounding very familiar to those of my friends.

“Wally?” I ask, feet pushing me towards the door a lot faster as I realize who is yelling. “Rhonda? Charlie? Is that you?”

Pushing on the door, I try to move the latch but for whatever reason it is completely sealed shut. No movement whatsoever. It doesn’t matter which way I attempt to pull or twist, the latch isn’t budging. My brows furrow in confusion as I try to work out how this could have happened. The door is old but not old enough to become so stuck that it is impossible to open.

“Y/N!” Wally calls out, relief evident in his voice. “Y/N, we’re completely stuck, the back hatch is locked too.”

“It’s okay. I’m here, I’ll get you out.” I tell them, still pulling on the door, though my eyes shift around the room, hoping to find a crowbar or any sort of object that may help me.

“Y/N, be careful! You can’t trust him!” Rhonda shouts, her voice panicked, the first time I’ve heard her sound genuinely scared.

“Trust who?”

Before my question is answered, the basement door swings open and I see a shadow looming over me at the top of the stairs. The shopping bag slips from my hand, glass bottles smashing against the floor as I realize who Rhonda was warning me about. Mr Martin’s friendly demeanor is gone, appearing menacing and dangerous as he makes eye contact with me. Shuffling backwards slightly, I keep my eyes on him. Trying to calculate his next move.

“Y/N, do you remember our little chat?” Mr Martin asks, slowly descending the stairs with his hands clasped together, truly looking like a villain.

“I’m not sure which chat you’re talking about, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

Each step Mr Martin takes towards me, I take a step back, putting as much space between us as I possibly can. Unable to contain it, I feel my body trembling, the sounds of my friends pounding on the door simply heightens my nerves. Their shouts fill me with dread and I do my best to remain calm, to remain observant. Mr Martin feels like a predator, stalking me as if I’m prey. Was he always like this? Were we all fooled by his supportive teacher act?

“A short while ago, I talked to you about your uniqueness.” He starts, throwing a sharp glare towards the metal door that my friends are trapped behind. “You told me that you wouldn’t use your gifts to benefit others. Clearly you are not a girl of your word.”

He talks slowly, I’m assuming to get some sort of reaction out of me. If I react on impulse, he is in control. I can’t let that happen. If he gains control of this situation, there is no way I can help Wally and Rhonda and Charlie.

“I don’t think I’ve really used it to benefit anyone other than myself.”

“Peach iced tea. Is that not Rhonda’s favorite beverage? Plus, I know for a fact that pack of jelly doughnuts is for Wally.” Mr Martin points out, reaching down to the shopping bag on the floor and rummaging through it to see its contents.

“If I’m going to the store, I’m going to pick up their favorite things. That’s called being a decent person.” I respond, feeling my back touch the shelves that line the walls as I continue to step away from Mr Martin. “They’ve been stuck here long enough, they deserve good things.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and ultimately feels incredibly forced. Continuing to make his way towards me, I know he thinks he has me cornered. He thinks I am trapped in the room with him. Little does he know he has made one major mistake. If there is one thing about me, it is that I am insanely loyal and I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. Right now, those people are trapped behind that stupid metal door, and there is nothing I won’t do to get them out.

“You know Mr Martin, I think you’re just jealous.”

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing?” Wally shouts, the banging on the door becoming more frequent as I sense he is becoming increasingly more panicked.

“Jealous?” Mr Martin questions, an expression of confusion on his face as he obviously didn’t expect me to steer the conversation in this direction. “Jealous of what Y/N?”

My hand snakes behind me at a snail’s pace, ensuring that he doesn’t catch the movement and spoil my plan. I just need to stall slightly, catch him off guard and then if all goes well, I should have them out in no time. Then I can stop worrying, especially about Wally. I know he’s only on the other side of that door but it feels like he is one million miles away.

“Well, you’re the only teacher here. Stuck with a bunch of teenagers, must be hard right? I’m sure you feel isolated and alone. Especially when one such teenager has powers that you can only dream of having. Powers that she uses to get her friends and boyfriend their favorite snacks or new books and films.”

“You think I’m jealous that you use your gifts on something so trivial?” Mr Martin questions, stepping towards me once more so we are practically inches apart. “Trust me Y/N, if I had the gifts that you hold, I would be using them to guide myself to the light. To cross over. Not you though, you’re just a stupid little girl that wastes talent on a bunch of people that do not care about you and are only using you for your gifts. I mean do you really think Wally would be sticking around with you if you weren’t able to bring him little treats? Though I suppose you did spread your legs for him the moment you arrived so who really knows.”

With a sigh, my hand takes a firm hold of the paint pot handle. “I really wish you hadn’t just said that.”

With a sharp swing I aim the paint pot directly at Mr Martin’s head, hitting him right above his ear. A pained groan escapes his mouth as he is knocked off balance, planting his hand against the wall so that he doesn’t fall to the ground. Sure, he can’t die twice, but I’m certain that I can at least knock him out for a while. As I go to swing the pot again, his forearm blocks my blow. Sending the pot clattering to the floor.

“Well now I’m angry.” He states, giving me no time to react as he grabs the end of one of the smashed glass bottles swiping at me with the sharp end.

Despite finding reassurance in the fact that I can’t die twice, I still wince at the feeling of the glass drag directly across my cheek. Cut opening, I feel the blood dripping down my cheek and in the one moment that I reach up to hold my wound, Mr Martin strikes again. Blunt end of the bottle hitting the back of my head sending me crashing to the ground. Grunting softly as I hit the floor with a thud.

“Y/N!” Wally bellows, worry laced in his voice and guilt floods through me as I hate to put him through this. “Y’N be careful, please. Y/N!”

Rhonda and Charlie are shouting as well, pain in their voices as they are evidently stressed out not knowing what is going on and only being able to hear the sounds of our fight. It must be hard having no indication of who is winning.

Flipping myself so that I am no longer facing the ground, I watch as Mr Martin stands over me. Dropping himself into a crouch, his fingers brush a stray hair out of my face. A wicked smirk settled on his face.

“Such a pretty face, too bad nobody else will get to see it.”

A rush of energy pulses through my body and with all the strength I can muster, I manage to stretch my arm out to grab the paint pot. Repeatedly hitting the teacher over the head with it and I feel little splatters of blood coat my face and body as he collapses to the floor. When I see no sign of movement, I begin to search through his jacket pockets. Whether that’s for a key or a key code, I’m not too sure. Though, I’m hoping when I find it, I’ll know.

With just my luck, a key slips into my hand, just in time for me to watch his body disappear as he resets to wherever he died. I’m unsure of how long he will be out and so for now I ignore my injuries focusing on finding any sort of lockbox.

“I’ve got a key. Any idea where it’s supposed to go?” I ask, hoping I can find some sort of answer from the three behind the door.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a little box to the right of the door, just above the ground.” Charlie answers, allowing me to search quickly.

Within no time I have found the box, twisting the key to find a switch which completely resets the lock on the door. This time when I try the door it pushes open with ease and I’m greeted by a swarm of tight hugs. Even Rhonda wraps her arms around me, squeezing slightly.

Wally hangs back, waiting for the other two to finish their greetings first. As soon as he gets the chance, he’s sweeping me off my feet, hugging me so tight that I feel as though my ribs may shatter. He’s twirling me around clearly happy just to see me again, and no doubt to be out of that room.

“I hate to break this up guys but we should probably head off before the evil teacher decides to come and take his revenge on Y/N.” Rhonda states, already beginning to make her way up the stairs.

Once we make it to the library, Wally is immediately all over me. Tending to my wounds as best as he can with the limited medical supplies we picked up from the nurses office on the way. He has a slight frown on his face as he wipes away the blood and I can’t help but place my fingers under his jaw, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips as a way of cheering him up. Yet the frown remains.

“Hey, what’s wrong? We made it out didn’t we?” I ask, cupping his face with my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“Yeah but I should have been out there to protect you. If I was there you wouldn’t have been hurt. You would never have been in that position.” He tells me, eyes not meeting mine as he speaks and I have a feeling that it’s because he is embarrassed and ashamed that he couldn't do anything.

Smiling softly, my lips press against his forehead, followed by both cheeks, then his nose, chin and lips. As I’m peppering kisses all across his face, he finally begins to crack a slight smile. His hands wrap around my forearms as he tugs me into a slow, heated kiss. Lips moving against mine at a relaxed pace and I find myself pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. He groans quietly, hands moving to carefully pull me onto his lap as we get caught up in the heat of the moment.

“Can you guys please be gross somewhere else?” Rhonda asks, tilting her book down slightly to make sure we hear her.

I giggle as a soft rose blush tints Wally’s cheeks, pink from ear to ear. It’s cute, and he’s the most relaxed I have seen him since leaving the basement.

“Not to kind of spoil the mood, but what do we do about Mr Martin?” I ask, sharing a worried glance between the three other ghosts sitting at the table.

“I mean, we’re already dead, he can’t hurt us.” Rhonda states, a logical answer though I’m sure he’d still find a way to make our lives hell.

“Yeah but he still trapped us and look at Y/N’s face.” Charlie comments, clearly nervous by the entire situation. “No offense.”

“Not to mention he’s been studying us.” Wally adds in, to which he receives a questioning look from me. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“I guess we just avoid him and maybe brush up on exorcisms and ridding ourselves of negative spirits.” I say, smiling at Wally as I feel him reach for my hand under the table.

As eventful as today was, and as scary as today, I’m no longer scared. Mr Martin may be big and tough but I know that the four of us are able to take on anything. Besides with Wally by my side, I know I’m able to accomplish anything.

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #school spirits #school spirits fic #school spirits imagines #rhonda #charlie #mr martin

627 notes · View notes

mochamamii · 6 months

Text

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

#nct yandere #yandere nct #yandere kpop #lee taeyong #kpop yandere #kim jungwoo #lee haechan #kim doyoung #johnny seo #mark lee #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #nct reactions

191 notes · View notes

rizzyu · 6 months

Text

▵▿— 3am Teacher’s Lounge

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn! reader

Category: tooth-rotting fluff

Warning: reader is also a teacher, my own scenario where there are teacher dorms in Jujutsu High

Summary: You woke up with a sore throat in the middle of the night, so you decided to drink some tea in the teacher’s lounge, only to find Satoru unable to sleep as well.

A/N: bro it's much faster when I have a clear idea of every single "scene" in a fic rather than writing when I only have an overall idea god damn...

Blurriness filled your vision as you slowly opened your eyes. Drowsiness shrouds over you as pain radiates from your throat. You sat up on your bed while swallowing thickly, futilely attempting to get rid of the soreness. Your eyes dart over to the digital clock sitting on the nightstand beside your bed. 3:14am. Lately you’ve been getting less and less rest due to all the meetings and new missions you were given. Appearances of curses were increasing rapidly after all.

With a groan, you pulled yourself off the comfort of your bed. You slowly treaded out of your dorm room before heading over to the kitchenette in the teacher’s lounge to make yourself a cup of tea to soothe your sore throat. As you pour the freshly boiled water into the cup, colour spreads from the tea leaves in the tea bag, and warm steam ascends into the air. You inhaled softy, taking in the tranquillity unfolding around you.

“What’re you doing up so early?” You abruptly turned your head around upon hearing a voice behind you, only to see Satoru treading towards you with his hands tucked in his pockets. The snow-haired man wore a wide-collared black t-shirt, tan pants and rectangular framed sunglasses, even though the sun was long gone. His face was adorned with his typical wide smirk. Though you’d never admit it verbally, but you had always found him looking captivating in his casual clothes (as if he wasn’t already usually).

“You’ve already been lacking rest. You won’t get any energy if you keep sleeping late but waking up early.” Satoru watched you over his sunglasses as he leaned against the fridge. “I can’t if I have such a sore throat.” You responded, “But wait, why’re you up early then?” He chuckles, “Because I have had enough sleep.” Satoru got off the fridge and went over to the couches at the centre of the lounge. Light from the fireplace illuminating his face as he watched the fire dance around. “Besides, I felt a bit lonely by myself. I wanted some company y’know?”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little at his words. And you only hummed in response as you sat next to him on the couch with your cup of freshly brewed tea. You quietly sipped on your tea as you both sat there comfortably in silence. Only the gentle noises of fire crackling radiated through the room.

You gently placed your cup down onto the coffee table after you finish your tea. “Is your throat feeling better?” Satoru asked with a tender voice as you set down your cup. You returned him with a nod and a bright smile. “Yeah, much better” You leaned on your seat on the sofa with a sigh. “You’re right, I haven’t been getting enough rest lately. But for some reason, I can’t can any even if I got the time to.” You turned over to look at Satoru when you felt his fingers tenderly comb through your hair. “Me neither” Satoru pulled you closer to him, hand still stroking your hair as a soft smile tugged on his plump, glossy lips. “Try to sleep now.” Your cheeks were practically burning now. And you were hoping that Satoru doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks were and how fast your heart was beating.

He did but decided to keep quiet about it.

On one hand, you were nervous as hell to be this intimate with Satoru. But on the other hand, this was quite comforting. It was extremely rare to see Satoru acting like this. Usually he'd be all silly like a little child. If only everyone else could see how much of a sweetheart he could be. But for the first time in a long time, you felt yourself peacefully start to drift off to sleep. But right when you were about to close your eyes, Satoru shifted the position to him lying on the couch, with you lying on top of him, legs tangled with each other. Satoru had an arm draped on your waist, keeping you impossibly closer to him. Normally you would’ve mentally squealed from the intimacy, but just this once you let it slide. Besides, Satoru turned out to be a pretty comfortable mattress as well.

With a drowsy voice you spoke “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Satoru’s smile widened at your words. “I already know.” He chuckled lightly, before leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Now go to sleep.” And before your body succumbed to slumber, you felt Satoru press one last quick kiss to your forehead.

imagine the other teachers (especially Nanami) walking on you two sleeping on each other the next morning

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo

171 notes · View notes

elusivecagedmockingbird · 5 months

Text

Lights Out, Words Gone

[yoongi x reader] [1.4k+ friends to lovers, light angst]

A/N: So, there was an attempt, by me. Heh. I'm just really trying to get back into creative writing. I used to enjoy writing, but no one told me that turning that into a career and years of writing newsletters and articles for corporate dulls the mind and at this point, even journaling feels like a chore. But if you found this fic and somewhat enjoyed it, I'm grateful.

It's ridiculous, you think to yourself. How can someone be easily disarmed by a smile?

One minute, you're furiously driving at 2 a.m. to fetch Yoongi from a dive bar—miles and hours from where you live so you're well within reason to cuss him out; the next, you're giggling next to him after he told you the lamest joke you've ever heard.

"Y/N, what did the full glass of water say to the empty glass of water?"

In no mood for his shenanigans, you slide the bottle of water you bought during the drive over, closer to him. Unperturbed, he continues with a grin, "You look drunk."

You let out an annoyed sigh. The joke doesn't even make sense, and yet, because it's Yoongi's gummy smile and his contagious giggles that echo across the empty chairs and fills the bar, your mood shifts.

Suddenly, you snort a laugh. Hearing your amusement, his giggles turn into hearty laughs, and you follow.

Yoongi catches his breath after a minute and fluffs his hair. Suddenly, he looks so soft and cuddly. You feel your breath winded.

Feeling compelled to break the silence, you tease, "Did you steal that joke from Jin?" You don't wait for an answer. You usher Yoongi out of the corner of the bar he hid himself in and he lets you push him out as he weakly argues, "Did not. I thought of it myself. I can make funny jokes too, you know." You hum in response, amused by the pout forming on his face.

Yoongi trudges straight to his bedroom as soon as you arrive in his place. You follow, wanting to at least make sure he's tucked in with a bucket on his side of the bed—a precaution, lest he hurls his guts in bed, which rarely happens. But better to be safe than sorry.

You eye Yoongi as he grabs a shirt from his drawer and take that as your cue to leave.

"Stay the night," his voice gravelly. You stop mid-journey out the door.

What.

"Uh, Yoongi—"

"It's too late to drive," he crosses the room and pulls your hand to take his shirt. "And if you think I'm letting you take the couch, I'm offended. Sleep here."

A beat passes. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he winks.

Right. As if you'd forget. You remember all too well how Yoongi gets needy and cheesy when drunk—which is why you hesitate. You need to distance yourself before your feeling overwhelms you and make you do something you would regret.

"Remember hell weeks shared in Jin's fancy dorm room? You snored like a fucking berserk honking truck," he chuckles, probably remembering those younger versions of you whose only problems were exams and thesis defense.

The nostalgia hits you, and you quip, "Ya! I remember Jungkook and I pulling an all-nighter for all those times. It was actually you who loudly snored."

Yoongi erupts in soft gummy giggles as you playfully give him the stink eye.

Laying stiff beside him, you almost succeed in willing your mind to slip into dreamland when you hear comforters shuffling until you feel him closer to you.

"You awake?" he faces you. "I am now," you huff. You open your eyes to adjust to the dim room, the only light source coming from the street lamp post outside his bedroom window and the tiny static light of your charging phone on the bedside table.

"I just…" he starts, "I wanted to thank you for picking me up. The guys were either out of town or probably too deep in their sleep to hear their phones ring."

"Yes, well… I was on the other side of the town and deep in sleep when you called." You weren't sure what your point was. Probably wanted him to know that you know he definitely did not call anyone else but you tonight.

But of course, he knows that you know. He knows he can't bullshit you. Not when you used to spend every waking moment since you met in college, which was almost 24/7, since you barely slept then. Years of friendship synced you together—getting used to one's idiosyncrasies, being able to read each other across the room, and sharing the same opinion on all things you deemed important.

"And yet you still came. I'm surprised you actually picked up after weeks of radio silence."

Yoongi starts to pick at his nails, his anxiety peaking. Atuned to even his habits, your hands reach to envelop his and you rest your cheeks atop.

"I actually thought it was one of my booty calls," you joke. He doesn't laugh or react, so you turn serious, "I'm your friend, of course, I'll come get you."

Always.

You smile at him, "It actually wasn't a bother. Get some rest, Yoongi." Thinking you ended the conversation, he suddenly confronts you, "You say that but you suddenly cut me off. Why?"

Ah.

Now, you consider if he orchestrated the whole thing. Trying to corner you so he could finally confront you. It wouldn't be out of his character.

You unclasp your hands.

"I didn't cut you off," you lamely defend yourself and hope he lets it go.

Again, this is Yoongi who's calling you out. You can't evade him just like he can't bullshit you. So he holds out.

"Right. So you suddenly dodging my calls and missing weekly hangouts when I'm available to join, is what? Coincidence?" His voice remains calm, but you would miss how it sounds heavier if you hadn't known him for years. Each word is weighed down with pent-up emotion, and now those fueled words hit you like bricks.

"I've gotten busy. Everyone did after graduation." A half lie, half truth.

He shifts a bit closer to you. "You know, even in the dark, I can tell when you're lying, right? I may not see how your eyes get shifty, but your voice has that lilt at the end when you speak. Almost as if you're also trying to make yourself believe in your lie."

You can already feel the onset of a headache from your lack of sleep, but what's more pressing is how your heart dreads being this close to him again, even more so now that you're being called out and you have no excuse. At least nothing good enough to pass Yoongi.

As the minute passes, the silence thickens, and you feel yourself growing even more tired. It could be from the drive, lack of sleep, or that you just fucking had the most mentally-draining shift just hours before that you finally resigned with honesty. Besides, now that you take a glance at his curled-up form beside you, you admit that he, at least, deserves to know why you distanced yourself.

Yoongi has been your best friend for years—the one who made sure to look into your eyes as he encouraged you to take the extra classes because if you thought it would help you secure the job of your dreams, then he believed it would pay off in the end, and you needed to believe that, too.

Yoongi, who held your hand when you went through mental and emotional hurdles. You honestly believe you wouldn't be here now, living and breathing, had it not been for him.

If only the way you looked at him stayed the same, and how his hands felt in yours remained unnoticed, like those days when he held you as you hurled your guts at bar restrooms after chugging down cheap vodka and beers.

If only your affection towards Yoongi didn't root themselves in what you thought was your uninhabitable heart and grow its tendrils over the years of laughing, crying, and sharing even the most mundane moments with him.

And so you will be honest, but you don't know where to start other than offering an apology.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi. I fucked up," tears brim your eyes but you look at him. You let your repressed emotions out and they're coming out all at once that you're overwhelmed. But you need him to know

Yoongi doesn't respond but motions for you to continue. It's his turn to take your cold hand in his and warms it between his. And it is during this delicate moment that you let it out, "I seem to have fallen in love with you."

How cliche, you rebuke yourself.

You hear him let out a sigh. Out of relief or disappointment, you're unsure.

You shift your eyes to the window behind him and get a glimpse of the rising sun. The aura of the rising sun breaking the dark blue night sky.

You don't know how many seconds, minutes passed. Yoongi remains silent.

Oh god. Surely this can't be a good thing.

You should leave now. You pry your hands away, but before you could even leave the bed, Yoongi finally breaks his silence,

"Then I fucked up, too."

>> Read Lights Out, Words Spill

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts #bts drabble #bts angst #missing yoongi hours #bangtan fic #bts suga #bts imagines #min yoongi #min yoongi fic #yoongi angst #suga angst #suga fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x oc #yoongi #suga

127 notes · View notes

wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Nicknamed Poppy)

WC: 6600

Warning: 18+ Blog/Minors will be blocked; Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

A/N: We’ll, there’s a lot here. This week was draining with a teething/no sleeping babe— but I was determined to get this finished! I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m excited for this part of their story! Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey again for her support and proofreading every week! And thank you to everyone who has continued to stick with these two dumb dumbs as they figure their shit out. Love you all!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Next

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dieter wills himself to regulate the adrenaline surging through him, it has his muscles tingling as its increasing levels spread through every pliable fiber.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

He takes in his surroundings, a steady attempt at grounding his mind, assuring him, keeping him present, giving him a chance to regain his composure.

He Sees…

The ornate tile that dresses the front steps to your Spanish Revival home, the perfect backdrop to the ‘welcome’ mat that greets him the minute he arrives to your place.

The sturdy wooden door attached to your home that keeps you protected, allowing you to live comfortably and securely without a bother from the outside world.

The well maintained landscape, no real knowledge of the specific varieties of plants that decorate the front, he senses a low maintenance and drought tolerant feel— a few things he had never heard of until moving in with Diem.

The way the sky begins to shift from its golden orange and purple hues to an even shade of deep blue as the sun tucks behind the horizon line, welcoming the stillness of the night.

The way he is actively replaying an episodic memory of you from just an hour ago when you had joined him at Diem’s house to read over his lines for his upcoming movie role.

“Are you sure you even want me doing this? I don’t know a single thing about acting. Can’t Diem help?? I don’t want to mess you up.”

It’s been a few days since the Capri re-grand opening. And a few days since yours and Dieter’s almost kiss.

There hasn’t really been a discussion on what had happened, or almost happened, only due to the fact that you hadn’t seen each other since Dieter had to leave to take Wren home.

Now you find yourselves sitting in Diem’s living room, on opposite ends of her sectional couch, ignoring the residual heat that is currently reigniting as you both look over the scripts you’re each holding— alone together, zero distractions.

“This scene is between two people who are navigating a new relationship, dancing around the sexual tension between them—“

The coincidence not lost on you.

“So, there’s no fuckin’ way I’d read through this with my sister. And I doubt she’d want to anyways, she hates this kinda shit, so I don’t even bother.“

“Okay, I’ll try my best, but if I fuck up—“

“You’re not gonna fuck up. I highlighted your lines in pink, just focus on those and you’ll do fine. Besides, you’re a teacher— you read stories for a living, just think of it like you’re reading to your class.”

“Dieter, it says right here at the bottom of the page in bold type, ‘HER EYES CLOSE AT HIS TOUCH FOLLOWED BY LOW SENSUAL MOANS’— there’s no fucking way I can imagine myself reading this to my class.”

You look up from the paper, his eyes already on you. You note the way his neck muscles flex as he swallows, the grip on his paper a little tighter— you’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

He touches…

The weight of his chip, the brass cool against his warm clammy skin, pulling it from his pocket, it sits heavy in his palm— a quick reminder that who he was doesn’t define him now. A few light tosses, before gripping it with his thumb and his forefinger, one last look before returning it to his pocket.

The compact device that connects him to everything important to him in a single touch, his finger navigating back and forth between the home screen image of Wren and him eating donuts then to the text you had sent not long after leaving Diem’s house — Poppy💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it — Then double checking the numbers on the house match the ones that you sent after he text back asking if he could come over tonight— a perfect match.

The silky strands of his ruffled dark brown hair as he tries to tame his wild curls, the cottony fabric of his gray weathered shirt pulling at it in such a way so it drapes over him just right, the rough texture of his faded jeans against his sweaty hands as he rubs them several times over where they hug his thighs— a blind once over of his appearance.

The way his hand skims over the velvety skin above your knee, the hem of your dress delicately dancing over his fingertips, the faint scar that now lives on the side of your thigh from a biking accident as a kid lays uneven under his gentle graze.

“Is this okay?”

Somewhere between shared lines, and fiery dialogue, Dieter finds himself sitting closer to you, his knee brushing against yours—hand so effortlessly placed on your thigh as he checks in with your comfort.

“Y-yeah— it says ‘HIS HAND REACHES THE APEX BETWEEN HER THIGHS’, so she would know that his hand is moving up her leg—.” Your voice trembles as you try to concentrate on the words printed in bold on the current page.

Looking up, you see Dieter’s focus solely on you, his folded script tucked between his leg and the couch cushion.

“That’s not what I asked.” There's a deep husk to his voice, his movements halted as he draws your attention away from the pages and up to him. “Are you comfortable with this, not what the paper reads or act is telling us to do. Is this okay with you?” Your consent, regardless of what the characters are doing, his number one priority.

“Y-yeah…” You murmur as you look down to where his hand is still subtly holding your leg. Your attention drawn back to his handsome face, placing your hand on top of his, encouraging him to continue his efforts.

He hears…

The symphonic resonance of the nightfall harmonics drifts through in the crisp evening air, a modest breeze carries the lilt of the chirping crickets throughout the stilled neighborhood, the rustling of the leaves scattered and swirling across the sidewalk, the faint cries of coyote pups awaiting the arrival of their mother who’s been in search of a hearty meal.

The way his heart beat reverberates against his eardrums, the thudding of his heart an emotive chorus, its pace evening out with each grounding thought.

The way your breath catches, its auditory staccato floats through the air and nestles somewhere deep within his mind, storing its melodic rhythm away as an echoic file, never wanting to forget how it sounds.

Dieter shifts himself forward, the crunch of the leather puckering as he settles a knee on the cushion, a hand gripping the back of the couch as he angles himself closer.

The crackle of paper startles you, Dieter grabbing the crumbled heap of papers and tossing it over his shoulder, removing any distractions that might be bothering.

Bit by bit you allow yourself to fall back onto the mound of decorative pillows in the corner of the couch. Dieter following your lead, keeping a close distance between you as he settled himself between your legs.

“When is Diem going to be home?” You breathed, a warmth spreads through your body as you fixate on the fact that this is really happening.

“Don’t know, at least an hour.”

A few loose curls fall into Dieter’s face, you lightly comb them back, the movements unhurried and attentive. Your fingers catching the frames of his glasses in the process, you gingerly remove them from his face, carefully tossing them to the side— producing your favorite lopsided grin from him.

Dieter pauses to study every little detail of this moment— the flash of want in your eyes, the way your fingertips skim over and around his taut biceps, the deliberate way the tip of your tongue wets your bottom lip before it’s drawn in between your teeth, the way your lungs continue to fill with the air you’re both sharing— he’s never felt more alive than in this moment.

He smells…

The night brings a refreshing scent of calmer air, the aromatic warmth of the citrus groves meld with the fragrant lavender farms that accumulates throughout the day, the herbal aroma that triggers a distinct nostalgic smell of his childhood.

The way your perfume mixes with your natural pheromones, the unmistakable notes of musky vanilla and orange blossom paired with your own unique scent stimulates his olfactory nerves, his spine tingling with pleasure as he breathes you in.

Dieter takes his time, deliberate in his own way, he wants to take his time— savor the moment.

He lowers himself down to the open space where your shoulder meets your neck— warm, delicate and inviting.

You angle your head, allowing him more space to move, your hands wrapping themselves around his neck, twisting his hair between your fingers.

Dieter places a soft tentative kiss to your shoulder, then slowly dragging the tip of his nose up the column of your neck, mindful of how responsive you are, nudging at your jaw before stopping.

“You’re so fucking soft.” His lips ghosting over your ear, voice honeyed and thick, his hand now situated on your bare hip, thumb toying with the seam of your underwear.

You nuzzle into the side of his head, his scent provocative in the way you crave it immensely. The smokiness of the sandalwood and cedarwood compliment the spicy musk and floral base— it’s Dieter, wild and delicious.

He tastes…

The ache for sustenance, a morsel of pleasure activates his taste buds, a palatable desire that he craves in hopes to fight off the hunger that plagues him.

A fieriness burns through your body, causing you to lose all ability to properly handle the way Dieter is making you feel— ravenous. You need more, something substantial that satiates the emptiness and the yearning.

The unfaltering look in his eyes, an unspoken feeling of infatuation that has you melting under his gaze.

Dieter leans in, gradually closing the gap between his lips and yours, sparking the immediate surge of oxytocin actively flowing through your veins.

His breath fanning across your lips, warm and minty, a brief remembrance of your almost kiss— several times over.

This position offers a new approach, angle of motion, feeling the fullness of his bottom lip catch your top lip, your fingers gripping tightly to his hair in anticipation as the weight of his lips begin to slot gently over yours.

*CLICK*

“Dieter? I’m home!” Diem announces her arrival.

Releasing the breath you were holding, grip loosened, warmth lifted— another moment gone.

“Fuck me!” Dieter grumbles, his forehead falling to your shoulder, your chest vibrating with a silent laugh.

Dieter places a kiss to your shoulder then pushes himself back from where he had been hovering over you seconds before, helping you to readjust the flowy fabric of your dress, a silent look to you asking “are you okay?”— you nod yes.

His body slumps back into the cushioned backrest, head falling back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away his annoyance at Diem’s horrible timing.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were here too, Poppy. I dropped Wren off for a playdate and picked up some dinner on the way home. You hungry?”

“Umm, no I’m good. Actually, I’m going to head out. I’ve got— there’s some things I need to do. So, yeah— I’m gonna go.”

You feel like two teenagers who were caught by the other’s parents. That awkwardness that looms over afterwards, not really knowing what to say or do.

You give his leg a light squeeze, pulling his attention back from his sulking, propping himself up with his arms on his knees, grabbing your hand and returning the faint gesture.

“I’ll text you later.” You mouthed to him before grabbing your items from the coffee table and making your way to the front door.

“You still on for this Friday?” Diem asks you as she’s unboxing the pizzas she had picked up, arranging a few slices nicely on plates.

“Yep— yeah! Friday is still good! See you later.” Your response short and to the point as you close the door behind you.

Dieter can hear the rustling of the wrappers and then a stillness hangs in the air. His back is to where Diem is standing in the kitchen, but he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you mention she was coming over? I would have grabbed more food, we could have all hung out together.”

“It was a last minute thing. I asked her to come read lines with me.”

Diem rounds the couch and places the food on the coffee table, before sitting and making herself comfortable.

“So… Did you finally kiss her?”

That gets a laugh from Dieter, face falling into his hands at the ridiculousness of Diem’s question.

“No, I haven’t kissed her.” Tilting his head towards where she’s sitting, chin resting against his clasped hands.

“Oh my god! You haven’t kissed her yet? What the hell, Dieter!”

“Trust me, it’s not for a lack of trying.” He assures her, picking at the toppings of his pizza slice that had fallen onto the plate.

“I don’t get it. If you’ve been trying, then what’s stopping you from actually doing it?”

“You are! Literally every chance I’ve taken, you stroll on in and fuckin’ cockblock me.”

“Wait— you’re blaming me for you not kissing her?” The shocked look on her face is priceless and equally hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m definitely blaming you. You have the worst timing ever!” He laughed, because even as annoyed as he is, the whole situation is a little funny.

*BUZZ*

The vibration of his phone cuts into their conversation, a text from you pops up on to the screen, he swipes it open.

Poppy 💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

He wipes his greasy fingers with a napkin then tossing it onto his forgotten pizza. He stands to his full height, placing his phone in his pocket and makes his way to the door.

“Where are you going? I was going to turn on that one show we’ve been wanting to watch.”

“I’m— going out. Go ahead and start it without me.” He shouts as the door clicks closed behind him.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

Poppy 💐- House number 402. White house on the left side of the street. See you soon!

The distance from your house to Diem’s is a short one, 3 minutes if you’re a fast Walker, 5-6 if you take your time.

Dieter was on his way— to your house.

You toss your phone onto the counter, and run to the bathroom. Not knowing how soon he was leaving after stating he’d be here in a few, didn’t leave you much time to freshen up.

You literally just saw him, so you kept it simple a few swipes of deodorant, clean away any mascara flakes and opting for a fresh coat of chapstick instead of lipstick— less is more approach.

2 minutes down.

Running through the house, you do a quick once over, grabbing any loose items, out of place items or kind of embarrassing items and tossing them into your hall closet— making sure to snag your copy of ‘My Pleasure: An Intimate Guide to Loving Your Body and Having Great Sex’ off of the coffee table.

4 minutes down.

Heading into the kitchen— Maybe he’ll want something to drink? You grab two tall glasses and fill them with ice, sitting on the counter waiting to fill with whatever Dieter wants.

5 minutes down.

Nervously, you stare at the front door, your nervous tick of picking at your fingernails keeps your hands busy. Should I turn some music on? Should I have put on a little more perfume? Maybe I should have brushed my teeth?

*Knock Knock Knock*

You grab for the door handle, pausing for a minute to take a deep breath, then cracking the door open to see Dieter standing on your front porch, hands in his pockets, casually looking down at his feet then up to you at the sound of the creaky door hinges— his face lights up instantly.

“Hey! Hope you found it okay?” You can’t help the dopey smile that grows on your face.

“No issues at all. Didn’t realize how close you lived this whole time.” He says, gesturing in the direction of Diem’s house.

“Yeah, almost neighbors.” Your smirk is laced in flirtation, your head leaning against the edge of the door in the most 90s rom-com way. “You wanna come in?”

“Sure.”

“Are you thirsty at all? I have sparkling and regular water, Diet Coke, and some beer— I haven’t made it to the store this week so I’m running low on things. I’ll be more prepared next time.” You ramble as you lead him into the kitchen, your nervous energy spiking just slightly.

“I’m good for right now, thank you. So, there will be a next time?” He asks, observing the way you bite at your lower lip when he mentions the prospect of a “next time”.

“Yeah,” You shrug your shoulders, noting the way the corner of his mouth quirks up and the light flutter in your stomach that follows. “I think so, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes, definitely want that.”

There’s a beat of silence, sans the sounds of home— the tick of the clock, the clinking of ice falling into the tray, a faint sound of music coming from another room.

“Oh! I—I have your jacket, I keep meaning to bring it over and then it would slip my mind…” Very much a lie, you were wearing it early this morning while you sipped your morning coffee, reading the latest chapter of ‘My Pleasure’… and you also might have worn it afterwards, when you needed a little— relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I mean, a little Birdie has been asking about it— it’s not a big deal.”

“Let me go grab it so I’m not tempted to hold it ransom for longer. Umm, help yourself to whatever. Then I can show you the easel, see if it’s something that will work for you.”

“Okay.”

Dieter takes in your home, it’s very much you.

Your love for plants extends inside, dozens of potted green plants, in varying shapes and sizes grace just your living room alone.

There’s a hint of a modern flare to your style, clean lines and lots of wood, a very neutral aesthetic— most of the color living as art work on your walls.

The art hanging throughout your home, he can only assume is your own. He’s drawn to the texture and the style of each painting— faint lines formed into human figures , landscapes resembling the world outside of these walls, and vivid abstract strokes of color adorn canvas everywhere he looks.

A soft glow catches his eye and like a moth to a flame, he’s lured to a dimly lit room— your art studio.

Large windows flank the walls, he imagines the natural light in the daytime is ideal in a space like this.

Tattered empty tubes of acrylic paint, evidence of being overly pinched to extricate every last bit of paint, strewn across a large table against the wall. Empty glass food jars repurposed as storage for your massive collection of paint brushes, while spatulas and other painting instruments lay haphazardly across the tabletop.

The table seems to double as a desk, once light colored, now coated in layers of colorful dried paint drips and spills. He runs his fingers over the surface, a balance of smooth and irregular textures, imagining the years you’ve spent standing over this table deliberately colors and mixing new ones.

Dieter thinks you must have been painting recently, a clear palette holds fresh dollops of paint in the center with a few experimental strokes on the side. He dips a finger into one of the little mounds, rubbing the emulsion between three fingers. It's cold and wet as it glides over his skin.

The wall of windows behind him he finds an easel, it too covered in coats of paint— a newer canvas sits in the support bar, a rough sketch of something just barely visible.

Next to where the easel rests, there are canvases stacked neatly against the wall along the floor. He analyzes each painting with regard, taking in each deliberate stroke and use of color— intently connecting with the emotions you’ve experienced in creating each piece.

He admires your tenacity. Through your long days of teaching at the school, little humans requiring so much of your attention for hours. To volunteering your time to help others explore their creativity at the gallery, planning and teaching weekly. And yet, you still find time to cater to your needs by doing something that makes your life more fulfilling, not allowing any roadblocks to deter your endeavors.

There’s an ache in his chest, a deep reminder of how different his life could have been had he not been bound by the shackles of Hollywood and the dark world that surrounds it.

Dieter had only ever dreamed of having such a space like this of his own, where he could chase a creative high and drown out the loud noises that followed him daily.

Stopping his thoughts before they begin to spiral, he thinks back to a motivational speaker he listened in on while in rehab. There were a lot of valuable words shared during the speech, but he remembers the line that really stood out to him— even through the darkest moments and afflictions that overpowered all his memories and people closest to him, it didn’t mean he is less worthy of a good life, a great life, moving forward.

Dieter realizes that with everything he’d lived through and how much hurt he had caused, he knows those things led him to this point in time— they led him to you.

“I ended up washing it, read the care instructions on the tag so I wouldn’t fuck it up. I found some melted Kit-Kats in the pockets and a few condom wrappers— this jacket has definitely seen some things…” You stop talking when you realize you’re met with an empty room, Dieter not where you had left him. “Dieter?”

There’s a slight movement that pulls your attention in the direction of your studio.

You find Dieter standing in the center of the room, the flicker from a burning candle emits a diffused light, washing his sharp features in a soft glow. There’s almost a pensiveness to his expression, hands tucked in his pockets lost in his thoughts, you watch him quietly take in the room around him.

“I see you helped yourself to a house tour.” You announce your presence as you enter the room, placing his jacket on the overstuffed chair in the corner then turning around to walk in the direction of your large art table, the skirt of your dress shifting from side to side as you walk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—“ He starts to apologize, realizing you both hadn’t set any boundaries with each other.

“It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. I hid all my incriminating things already.” You joke, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like you don’t have to be guarded.

“Are these for your showing?” He asks, pointing to the canvases he had just been studying.

“Yeah,” You say as you turn to face him, lean back against the table. “They’re all pretty much done— I’ll probably fine tune some things before the big day.”

“Can I ask what they represent?? I can see two figures— a man and a woman in some sort of intimate setting. I see the woman is fully fleshed out in color with distinct features, similar to your own— but the man looks like a shadowed figure, starting out blank, then slowly gaining color and personality in each painting— like an evolution of some sort. But what’s the narrative behind them?”

The way he’s analyzing your work, makes you feel even more captivated by him.

“I was having this dream— a nightmare maybe? For weeks, it would come to me every night, always starting out in the same way. I would feel him all around me— his hands, lips, everything. I would try to speak to him, but he would never respond, and I could never see his face, didn’t know who he was. Then he would vanish, like I had lost him and I would wake up in a panic. But as the weeks went on, it was like I could start to see him a little clearer…”

Dieter hangs on to your every word, he’s drawn in to your openness to share your thoughts so freely with him. He steps closer to where you’re standing, wanting to know more about these dreams.

“Go on.” He says softly, encouraging you to share more details.

“Some nights his face was a blur, but I could see his features, more clearly each night. And as his face became more visible over time, the dreams didn’t feel like I was losing him— it felt like I was gaining more of him. The last week or so, I can see his face— I know who he is.”

At some point in explaining the story behind your paintings, your eyes fell to the floor— the way he was watching you so intently felt overwhelming the closer he got.

“Who is he?” He asks, placing two fingers under your chin to slowly lift your gaze up to him.

“You.”

It’s a fierce softness in the way his mouth molds to yours, the gentle press of his lips is breathtaking— punching the air right from your lungs.

His touch is meticulous and thoughtful, resting his hands on your bare thighs, fingers lightly graze over your soft skin leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps.

Your hands snake up his body, settling back to where they were not so long ago— cupping the back of his head, slow drawn out scratches to his scalp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs against your mouth.

“Y-yes— more than okay!” You breathe out— you’ve literally dreamt of this moment.

Experimentally you slowly swipe your tongue across his plump bottom lip, silently begging for a little more and he obliges, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. An equal exchange of feelings and yearning as the kiss alternates between a tangle of tongues and sweet pecks.

Dieter pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, his breaths ragged puffs across your warm face.

“Why did you stop?” Your breath equally as ragged, chest heaving as you question his halted movements.

“Be-because—“ His throat dry as he tries to regulate his breathing. “If we don’t stop, things will get— more serious.”

“I-I’m failing to see the problem in that.” You tease.

“I don’t have any condoms— I didn’t think we’d get this far with our track record.”

“I locked the door, after I let you in— didn’t want to chance any interruptions.” His chest vibrates with a soft chuckle at your response. “I’m clean and on the pill— but only if you’re comfortable.”

“I am, clean I mean— I’m clean, plus haven’t been with anyone in, well, awhile now. Might be a little rusty in all actuality.” He confesses, his thumbs still moving in sweeping motions over the tops of your thighs. “You sure you want this?”

“Very, very sure.” You whisper against his lips, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it slowly up under your dress to the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs since he started kissing you.

“Fuck!” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your bare cunt, nearly choking on air— his fingers start to tentatively swipe through your wet folds, watching as your eyes start to roll back in pleasure.

“I thought I had felt some kind of underwear earlier?” He asks, as his fingers coated in your slick start to draw lazy circles over your sensitive clit.

“Ah!— I-I did. But I was so keyed up when I — left, I came home and had to— Oh! I had to— Fuck I can’t think straight when you’re doing that!”

“Did you come home and touch yourself?”

“Yessss— Oh god!” You whine breathlessly as two of his fingers enter your heated core, remnants of your earlier orgasm fully welcoming him.

“You’re so perfect.” He exclaimed,

his free hand cupping your face, keeping you close, his thumb lightly tracing across your lower lip.

His two fingers continue to move in and out of you, working up so effortlessly. He presses a long slow kiss to your lips, followed by a few short light ones.

You can feel yourself moving closer to the edge, there’s a tingle running down your spine, converging with the fire that’s beginning to break within you. Your velvety walls begin to flutter around Dieter’s fingers, prompting him to kiss you a little deeper and it’s just the push you need.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come—“ Your body begins to shake, your hands slamming done on your table— paint splattering into the air.

It’s an inferno of ecstasy blazing through your body, you wrap your arms around Dieter’s waist, clinging to him as you ride it out— letting the embers cool down.

Without a single breath, you grab for the button on Dieter’s jeans as he tries to pull at the straps of your dress. It’s a jumbled mess of limbs, but finally working in tandem to rid each other of clothes.

Dieter crowds you against the table, the edge digging into your lower back causing you to yelp.

“Are you okay?” His eyes etched in concern, as he scans over your blissed out features.

“Ye-yeah! The ta-table is digging.” You say, pointing to show him.

He bends down to grab onto the back of your thighs. “Jump.” He says as he helps guide your naked body onto the table.

His hands rest on the table as he leans in to kiss you again, unhurried as he licks into your mouth as he guides your body to lay down on the table.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Poppy.” He says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and over your chest, stopping and pressing his lips over the spot that he hopes to hold on to for a while— your heart.

The gesture has your eyes welling up, blinking rapidly to fight them off. You feel so completely overwhelmed by him, you have to actively stop yourself from telling him how in love you are with him.

He lifts himself off of you just enough to reach between the two of you, giving his cock a few hasty strokes before notching its weeping head at your entrance.

“Fuck!” He gasps as he slowly pushes his full length into your warm cunt— the slightest ghosting of your climax now pulsing around him.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in as close to you as possible, silently begging him to move, but he grips onto your leg to halt your movements.

“Wait— I need a minute otherwise this is going to be over before it even happens.” He says, resting his head on your sternum to give himself a moment.

“Dieter, it’s fine. Just take what you need— I’m— I’m good.” You feel more than satisfied with the two orgasms you’ve already had, you just want to feel him.

He slowly states to move his hips, several purposeful thrusts, wanting to savor the way you feel, the warmth already starting to bloom in his belly.

Dieter lifts himself off of you, sensing this new angle is pleasant based on how you start to arch your back off the table, his steady thrusts working you both up in a desired frenzy.

“Fuuuuck, you feel like a dream., Poppy.” His voice is hoarse, glancing down to watch the way your arousal coats him, his hands gripping your waist as he thrusting into with a little more earnestness.

“Dieter— I think I’m going to come again— oh god!!” You announced into the lust filled room, the tell-tale signs barreling through your body.

You try to grab onto something, hands looking for something to anchor yourself to, Dieter too far away and too lost in his own pursuit— each thrust is a little deeper producing your muscles to tighten on their own accord.

An unexpected swipe of Dieter’s thumb over your clit is blinding, sweet erotic sounds pouring from your mouth, hands slamming back onto the table, you're met with wetness, your brain registering where you are and that your hands are covered in paint.

The thick emulsion is cold when it hits your skin, your nipples pebble at the sensation of the paint gliding over them, your hands kneading the weight of your breasts— paint building up between your fingers with each calculated squeeze, each roll of your nipple sends you closer to your third orgasm.

You look up to see Dieter’s slack jawed expression, which only makes you emphasize your movements, giving him a little show. You’re arched back putting your chest on display, your hands working over your exposed skin covering your upper body in a rainbow of colors.

“Oh shit— shitshitshitshit— I’m gonna— fuck!” The sight of you sets Dieter off, folding himself over the top of you, face nestled into the crook of your neck as his thrusts begin to falter at the way your cunt begins to contract around him.

A gravelly moan against your damp skin and one final thrust, his hips still as he’s spilling into you.

The room is still again. The faint scent of your oud and sandalwood candle is overpowered by the sex hazed aroma. Chests moving against each other simultaneously, lungs begging to properly breathe, skin slipping with each pull of air— this might become your favorite way to create art.

A soft kiss to your shoulder as Dieter lifts himself up into his forearms, resting his temple against your jaw to give his arms a chance to regain their strength before giving you a softer kiss to your lips.

“That was—“ He’s still trying to regulate his breathing, words jumbled in his brain and not quite producing properly.

“Amazing!” You finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah— amazing.” He says, one more kiss because he doesn’t think he’s given you enough yet, then he’s slowly pulling out of you and helping you sit upright.

“What a mess we made of ourselves.” You laugh as you examine both of your colorful torsos.

“Worth it.” Dieter replied with a slight shrug and a quirky smile on his handsome face.

“I’m going to go grab some stuff to clean us up. I’ll be right back.”

Hopping off the table to head towards your bathroom, Dieter grabs you by the wrist, spinning you back towards him, your bodies flush against each once more as he gives you a toe curling kiss.

“Alright, hurry back.” He says, giving your backside a few taps.

You take a few minutes to freshen yourself up, wiping away as much of the paint as you can.

Throwing on a clean pair of underwear and a loose shirt, the hardwood cool against your bare feet, you make your way back to your studio where you’re met with an unexpected sight when you get to the door, Dieter sitting in front of your easel where your last canvas sits. His naked body wrapped in his fuzzy coat, his brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moves around the canvas with a paint drenched brush.

You take a moment to just watch him, leaning into the door frame, watching how he looks so relaxed and happy.

“You snoop and you help yourself to my painting, you sir are a menace.” You jokingly say to him, it earns you a generous laugh.

“Sorry, guess I’m two for two now. I saw you had it roughly sketched out and thought I’d paint you the way I see you.” He explained, leaning back into the small metal chair.

“And how do you see me?”

“Beautiful.” The word floats out and around you, its weight settling into that little space in your chest that has felt empty for so long.

“That’s two times you’ve painted me now— I think those would be grounds for someone to fall in love.” You tease, but there’s truth wrapped up in your statement. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, making your way over to where he’s sitting.

He places the brush in the glass of water, his hand reaching out for you to come closer, softly grabbing at your hips he’s pulling you down so you’re straddling his lap— fully aware he’s still naked and covered in paint under his jacket.

“Do you?” He has to know if you’re feeling the same way as him. “Do you, love me?”

“Yes.” Your voice a little wobbly, your emotions bubbling up in your chest.

But you do, you love him without a doubt and it’s the most terrifying and thrilling feeling you’ve experienced in a long time.

“I love you too, Poppy.” He whispers to you, his eyes glossy as he fights back tears.

“Why are you crying?” Wiping the single tear that has started to fall down his cheek.

“I’m scared— that I’m going to fuck this up. And you’re going to resent me. And I’ll be back to where I was a year ago— alone.”

Your heart nearly breaks at his confession.

“That’s not going to happen though.” Brushing his wild hair away from his eyes, caressing his face and hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t. But a wise man once told me— we’ll figure it out as we go.”

His arm wraps around your waist as his other hand cups the back of your neck, bringing your face to his, your nose bumping into his.

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips.

And before you even have a chance to reciprocate, he’s kissing you with so much love and feeling.

“Will you come? To see my showing on opening night?” You ask between feather-like kisses.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Poppy.”

It’s a few hours later when Dieter walks through the front door of Diem’s house, ready for a shower and sleep.

“You’re home late.” Diem’s voice sounds from the same spot on the couch he’d left her in.

“Uh, yeah. Lost track of time.”

“Were you at Poppy’s?” She asks with herround of motherly questioning.

“Yeah, I was. She had that easel, so I went to get it.”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The easel.”

“Oh, I— I must have forgot it. We were talking, lost track of time. I’ll grab it another time. I’m gonna take a shower then head to bed. Night.” Hoping to throw her off his scent, the last thing he wants is to hear her boast about what you and him were up to.

“Night. Oh hey, Dieter.”

“Yeah.” Turning back towards her.

“Make sure you wash that cute hand print on your neck.” Her devilish grin beaming at him.

He gives her a middle finger for good measure, then heads to the bathroom.

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #wildemaven writes

329 notes · View notes

gaiaseyes451 · 4 months

Text

Choice - A New Good Omens Fic

You may be aware we're having a smut war over at @goodomensafterdark. I'm pleased to be firing my first volley of the war with Choice! Note: Rated Explicit on AO3.

An Excerpt:

At first I wanted you because you were beautiful.

Oh Lord, but you were beautiful.

The first time I caught sight of you in the darkness of the budding universe, starlight tangled in your hair, the brightness of creation shining in your eyes. How I had wanted you, there and then. The yearning possessed me, ached in my core, intruded on my thoughts. I passed the nights in my quarters, feeling every needling second as I waited for the appointed time to return to the stars beside you.

I could not say when the furtive glances and carefully incidental grazes began. I tried to deny the feeling, dampen the hope that there was a pattern behind the brief encounters. A side-effect of working in close proximity, I told myself, encounters that were unavoidable and meaningless. Nothing more than happenstance, and surely not borne from your desire. A friction, exciting atoms to emit heat, pleasant in the moment—how I burned for you—but chafing in the aftermath when you pulled away. And so I attempted to deceive myself.

***

Six days I waited for your approach, listened for your voice, felt the phantoms of your touch. You were pulled away, conversing in hushed whispers and strident tones. Angels I had never seen demanded your attention… I sat on the precipice, waiting for any breeze to tip me over the edge.

On the seventh day, you approached me for the third time. Before I heard you, I sensed you—a star binding a body in its orbit, I was drawn to you, encompassed now by a force I could not resist. Even if I could have broken the tether, I did not desire escape. I stilled as you neared, holding my breath, thrumming with anticipation. Your hand hovered between my wings, a touch so light my back prickled as you leaned over my shoulder, breath hot on my ear.

“Plans are progressing.” Your fingers slipped over the primary feathers to the soft coverts and I shuddered in pleasure.

“The observatory tonight after evening prayer. Let me show you what could be.” You spoke the words with your nose tucked beneath my jaw and I knew you could feel my pulse racing beneath the thin skin.

Your fingertips dug into my back and I arched into the sharpness. “I will not ask again.”

You withdrew, leaving me churning in your wake.

*~*~*

A special thanks to @sohoscribblers and my wonderful beta readers: @hakunahistata, @ineffable-obsession, @the-literal-kj, @adverbian, @depraved_dame, @adeptdragonfruit54, @azeutreciathewicked, @uz-6,

#good omens #crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens 2 #my fic #my fanfiction #good omens smut #good omens heaven #good omens fandom #ineffable smut war

83 notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

13 - ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ ꜱᴇx/ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ -

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ

pairing: astronaut! yunho x astronaut! reader (fem)

genre: space au, angst, smut

summary: your lover visits your room during the late night hours.

w.c: 2.2k

warnings: service top! yunho, sub! reader, pet names, oral (receiving), fingering, edging, kissing, unprotected mirror sex, squirting, tiny spit mention

a/n: i keep hurting myself with these ahhhh im so sorry i swear this is the last angsty one for the fff series ;-; also listen to 'astronomy' by conan gray if you want to cry <3

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you stared out of the large, clear window on your side of the spaceship, quietly surveying the abundance of stars, some fading into the dark void of space, some glowing intensely, their light almost blinding — though the brightest ones were destined to die sooner than later. Your fingers rubbed the edges of the silver locket you usually kept tucked away inside your suit, slowly opening and closing it back up, idly glancing down at the small picture of your one and only love, who was smiling back at you through the faded glass.

It was only when you heard the ding of your door passcode being punched in correctly that you snapped out of your trance, your face lighting up at the sight of the man you were quietly reminiscing about. "Yunho, you didn't have to visit me this late, you know. You should be getting your rest," you nagged him, despite the light blush that formed on your cheeks, your lips curling into a small smile.

Yunho stood there for a moment, simply gazing at you, returning the smile you gave him. "I can rest once I've given you my love, Y/N." He walked towards you, momentarily distracted by his reflection in the window behind you, studying his features, as though they were unfamiliar to him.

"Your love, hm?" You ran your thumb over your locket one last time, before standing up from the bed in front of him, distracting him from his reflection. “Let’s get started then, shall we?” You ran your fingers along the seam of his sleek suit until you got to the zipper near his neck, slowly pulling it down, revealing his broad body underneath.

He mirrored your actions, unzipping your suit as well and peeling off your undergarments until your were bare before him, leaving only your locket. “What was I like back then?” he asked softly, holding your locket in the palm of his large hand, opening it up to look at the faded photo.

You placed your hands on his forearms, feeling his tense muscles underneath, running them up onto his chest and downwards, closing your eyes. “Strong-willed, full of life, and always ready for the next adventure…” you recalled, your voice cracking slightly toward the end of your sentence.

He sensed your pain, lowering himself to press his forehead onto yours as an attempt to comfort you, closing his eyes as well. “We were inseparable, weren’t we?”

“Mm-hmm…” You placed your cold hands on his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs along his jaw for a while, eventually opening your watery eyes, meeting his brown ones that were already gazing into yours. “You were my everything. You still are.”

Yunho’s serious disposition softened completely, coming to understand his role and effect on your life. “Come here, Y/N,” he beckoned, holding your chin and tilting it up towards him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, eventually pulling back, only for you to chase him, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, his hands resting on your hips. When you slipped your tongue into Yunho’s mouth, he moved his against yours, your eyes shut tight, despite his being open ever so slightly to study your reactions. Once you were finding yourself needing more, you broke the kiss, whispering against his lips, “Darling, can you please go down on me?”

Yunho licked your saliva from his lips, his hands running up and down your waist. Thinking of the soft smile he had in the photo, his lips curled into the same exact one, looking down at you with kind eyes. “Of course I can, Darling. Whatever you want, I can provide.”

Yunho was positioned between your thighs, holding you down on the edge of your bed, quietly lapping at your soaked folds and slit, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration. “Mm, Yunho, that feels good,” you moaned softly, reaching down to run your fingers through his dark locks, admiring how he looked below you.

“How can I make you feel better than that? Should I use my fingers?” he inquired, studying your flushed features and waiting for further instruction, his large tongue now swiping at your clit. “Based on your previous preferences, maybe my cock?”

“Yunho, I want you to do whatever you want to me…just take your time…and make me so wet, I make a mess…” Just as you spoke, Yunho suddenly grabbed your ankles and moved them up so that they were near your head, standing above you. Blushing, you looked up at him with glossy doe eyes, watching as he sent a long string of spit down onto your mound, feeling it slip down your cunt. “Edge me, okay?”

“Mm.” Yunho eagerly rubbed two fingers up and down your messy cunt, from your clit to your hole, making you whimper. He studied the wet, squelching sounds it made, zoning in on it, two small rings of light rotating around the edges of his irises. “I’ll edge you, my love, until you unravel entirely for me.”

Yunho kept his promise. Without fail, he regularly brought you to your limit with his tongue and fingers, only to rip your orgasm away from you at the very last second, over and over again until you broke down.

“Yun…ho…” you whispered in a fragile tone, tears staining your cheeks, crying out from the sensation of your lover rubbing your g-spot with his weighted fingers. Your lower half felt hot and heavy, continuing to pulse, your arousal leaking out of your cunt like a broken faucet. “I want to cum now…”

Yunho hunched over to bring his mouth onto your mound, speeding up his arm movements, using his tongue to rapidly swipe at your clit. He had exerted so much energy during the past hour to bring you in and out of a state of pure pleasure, though he didn’t have a single drop of sweat on his body. “Cum, my Darling. You’ve been so good for me,” he moaned onto you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you chanted under your breath, more tears spilling out of your watery eyes. It felt so good to be taken care of by your love, so much so that it made you forget entirely about how insanely lonely it felt to be trapped in a metal prison day after day, all while floating aimlessly around space for an unforeseeable amount of time. “Yunho…!”

Yunho watched your cunt pulse around his fingers, a sudden squirt of liquid spraying onto his face, making him close his eyes and shake his head a bit, the tips of his hair wet.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry, baby.” You pulled your legs back down and sat up when Yunho released them, breathing heavily and feeling a bit faint from cumming so hard. “I didn’t mean to…”

He shook his head again, holding up his cum-soaked fingers in front of you, spreading them to watch the thick strings drip down onto his palm. “It’s only natural with how many times I edged you, baby. You seem to like going back and forth between a state of pure pleasure and immediate loss. Is it that enjoyable?”

You grew quiet for a moment, turning your head to gaze out into space, focusing on the nearest planet, which was Saturn, though it’s rings were invisible from how far your ship was stationed.

“Y/N?” he called, putting a hand down on your shoulder, but standing still, not sure what to do next. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you answered softly, slowly standing up from the bed and leaning your back against the cool glass of the window behind you. Noticing how incredibly hard Yunho was, his cock completely stiff and twitching, you reached over and ran your fingers up his length. “What do you think I would like next?”

He observed you for a few seconds, pressing his cool body against yours, replying, “For me to fuck you against the window. You want it rough too. You want to forget.”

Though your pain remained, your urge to be filled by Yunho was much stronger than your urge to eject yourself out into space with the aid of an emergency escape pod. You tilted his head down and pressed your lips to his jaw, whispering, “Then, what are you waiting for?”

With your hands pressed firmly into the glass, you were routinely slammed forward into it, having to keep your arms bent to prevent your face from being smashed. “Fuck, yes, that’s it, baby…” Yunho had his body completely flush against yours from behind, with one arm snaked around your waist to keep you still, the other routinely rubbing your clit, his fingers barely brushing over his cock as it pounded into you.

“Look at your pretty face, Darling,” he commanded, using one hand to grab your chin and make you focus on your reflection, his other hand still working on your clit. “Your cheeks are filled with warmth…your body heat is rising more and more, and your eyes are glossy and dilated, full of so much lust for me…”

“It’s all because of you…” Shuddering when Yunho began leaving kisses and licks to your neck, his eyes still focused solely on yours in the reflection, you almost felt like you couldn’t take it. “Fuck me against the window now, Yunho. I want to face you.”

Yunho obeyed, spinning you around and lifting you up from the floor by with your waist, then pressing you into the window and wrapping your legs around him. “Do you want to kiss me, Darling?” Observing your quiet nod, he slotted his lips onto yours, slipping his tongue inside almost immediately. Exploring your mouth with urgency, he sunk his fingers into your soft hips, your arousal allowing his thick length to slip in and out of you with ease.

With your heads tilted and your mouths open, your tongues entwined, occasionally swiping at one another, your combined saliva dripping down your chins. You wrapped your arms tightly around your lover’s neck, squeezing him against you, his cock ramming into you so quickly, you were almost afraid that he’d crack the glass behind you. “Cumming…” you moaned into his mouth, barely able to form the word without the use of your tongue, opening your eyes to watch as he sucked on yours.

Yunho broke the kiss, licking your saliva away. He placed his lips near your ear, breathing heavily into it, “Would you like to hear how much I love you as you cum for me?”

“Yes. Tell me.” You nodded your head so quick it almost made you dizzy, your heated core throbbing so intensely, you knew his words would drive you over the edge.

Yunho pulled back to gaze into your half-lidded eyes, replying in a soft voice, “I love you so much, my Darling. My love for you is stronger than the gravitational pull of Saturn to its rings.” Hearing you moan and feeling you clench around his cock, he continued, wanting you to cum as hard as you could for him. “No, my love for you is more like a burning star, filled with a devout determination and fire to never go out.”

It was too much. All of it. “Yunho!” you cried out, your voice hoarse and broken, clutching him so close to you, you could feel his heart ticking against yours. Your essence practically poured out of you, spilling down his length and thighs, eventually trickling down onto the dark carpet.

After a kiss or two, Yunho set you down, allowing you to turn around and face the vast emptiness of space once again, his hands rubbing your shoulders as a way to comfort you. In a daze, you almost didn’t hear him when he asked, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to move on?”

“Huh…?” You suddenly heard an audible mechanic whirring sound coming from behind you, causing you to turn around just in time to watch as your lover's face slowly disappeared and began to be replaced by smooth silver chrome. It never got easier to see that, no matter how many times it happened.

The android stood up straight, studying the back of you when you turned away from it. Instead of Yunho's gentle voice, an emotionless robotic tone came out instead, asking for the third time that week, "Do you want to extend the session, Y/N?”

You ran your fingers over your precious locket, gazing at your lonely reflection sitting inside an ocean of black. "Yes, for another hour."

A few lights glowed around the metal seams of the android, eventually questioning with the same emptiness as before, "Would you like to replay the same scenario or should I program a different one?"

You closed your eyes, hanging your head, not having the strength to be alone again. "You can do the same one."

There was silence for a moment, the mechanical whirring sound growing louder, before a hand settled on your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. You looked up at the android that resembled your one and only love, who was long gone, your memories of him scattered like the stars that surrounded you. With a heavy heart, you nuzzled your cheek against his hand when he placed it there, still finding solace in his artificially made smile and twinkling eyes. "Yunho..."

He caressed your tear-streaked face, his lips forming the same frown you gave him, imploring softly, "My love, why are you crying?"

You shook your head, allowing him to wipe your tears away with his thumbs. "No reason. I'm just happy to see you, is all."

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

edit: whoops forgot to add this lol

FFF: @hwalysm @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshot #ateez hard hours #february filth fest

453 notes · View notes

yume-yuurei · 6 months

Text

Picture-perfect fairytale romance 1/3

Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?

TW for mildly delusional Neige (only hints of it in this part), kinda ooc, MC only gets called 'knight' one time with no real descriptions, so you could say they're gn, barely proof read. I'm going to write two more parts later, as I cannot allow myself to write a story without at least attempting to look at it from all possible angles. :P

"...Trees parted before the brave knight, bowing in respect and opening the path ahead. Soon he came to a clearing in the woods.

Among the flowerbeds and tall grass laid a cloud of white and pink sateen. Upon coming closer, the knight realized that it was a person! A beautiful young woman with a face fresh like first snow. Her locks gently framed her face, bringing out its soft shape. The lady's lips, red like old wine, were barely open. Beads of tears sat on her lashes, glistening like morning dew. As if enchanted, the knight kneeled over the sleeping beauty, reaching out a hand to touch her and make sure what he was seeing was no dream.

No matter what, the woman wouldn't wake up, lost in her slumber - or perhaps a heavy spell cast on her. Concerned animals peered at the man from behind the bushes, hopeful at the thought he'd finally awaken the princess. The hero kneeled at her side, brushing a stray strand of hair aside to take a proper look on her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaved closer, connecting their lips in a kiss....

The spell fell, and the beauty's eyes opened once again..."

Stories like this one are a classic. A princess, a knight and a kiss of true love. What happens after is always the same. Every child has heard at least one of such tales, many have and still do dream to live out a magical story like that.

"...And they lived happily ever after."

Forever and ever, even after eternity.

A woman in her twenties sat on the bed of a small boy. Resemblance between them was clear as day - hair dark like wood, skin white as snow, lips red as fresh blood. The woman shut the book in her hands and placed it on a nightstand. She leaned down to place a kiss on top of her son's forehead. The boy giggled, rubbing his face with a chubby hand to wipe away a lipstick stain.

"Now, dear, it's time to sleep."

With a light motion, she tucked the blanket in at his sides to keep him warm at night. Beady-eyed plush animals and soft frilly pillows surrounded him. With a final fond gaze, the woman snuffed out all lights, disappearing after turning a corner.

The boy clutched his blanket, turning on a side to look into the open window. Darkness enveloped the night sky; only stars, usually outshone by the great Sun, dared to come out and hold their post, spilling light on all that's hiding in the dark. They stay high up to bear witness to all wishes shared with them at late hours, hearing out desperate calls of hopeful hearts. And that night, the stars heeded a young soul's wish.

"Maybe... Someday My Princess Will Come?"

Ringing of school bells was resonating through the entire building. Students flooded from classrooms, crowding in halls, desperate to escape classes as soon as they could. The commotion they were causing could be heard from outside, some students rushing to Mirror Hall, some staying back to turn in their assignments, attend clubs or hang out with friends. You could see all of that through the windows

Rook promised to meet you near front gates to escort you to the gardens. He was assigned as your personal alchemy tutor by Professor Crewel. As eccentric as this particular junior seemed, his vast knowledge was deserving of recognition - as expected of a vice-leader of Pomefiore, a dorm specializing in potionology, and his strictness regarding practical assignments could rival even that of the Professor himself. So, a perfect solution for a poor magicless student that has never had anything to do with magical herbs. Originally, both you and Grim had had to attend tutoring sessions, but the latter turned tail at the last moment, and even if he were to be brought back forcefully, he'd be more of a distraction than anything else. That's where it leaves you - in front of the gates, glancing at your phone every few seconds in doubt and growing disbelief. Rook was running late.

The hunter told you specifically to wait for him after seventh lesson as it was supposed to be the last in his schedule, so where is he? Could he have been held back by his dormleader to discuss important matters, or stolen by co-members of science club that were in need of advice and assistance, or perhaps even lost in a pursue of a curious non-human student he wanted to observe before they escape his sights?

As if there was nothing on your to-do list for today, other than loitering around, waiting for him. It's hard to suppress a sigh. You took the waiting time as an opportunity to look around.

And there was a reason to it. With how wild Night Raven is, it had been near impossible to take a breather (or was it just your luck?) and enjoy something as simple as fresh air. A shame it is - there is so much to see in Twisted Wonderland. Try and find a single fairy, dragon or fire-breathing flower on Earth; but there, nothing of such is a novelty. To think about it, ever since arriving to NRC, you haven't spared a thought to how this world works: Where does magic even come from, and how exactly does it work? Why don't mages try and reuse accumulated blot, like humans in your world do to wastes? How did they manage to advance in technology when they seem to rely so heavily on their magical abilities? Do beastmen and merfolk actually have any biological relation to humans or-

Rustling of leaves took your mind away from daydreaming. For a second you expected Rook to emerge from the bushes, or maybe even from the top of a tree, picking a stray leave out of his hair and greeting you in his own special manner, but what appeared before your eyes did not resemble the hunter in the slightest. In his stead before you stood a... deer? Doe-eyed, absent-minded creature on four long trembling legs - undoubtedly a deer, but what would it be doing on school grounds?

The dreamy animal seemed to pay no mind to your presence, taking a step out of the forest and heading down the main street. It sniffed around, possibly looking for something or just lost, before averting its attention to a small shiny object lying in the grass. The deer picked it up it its teeth after a few awkward attempts and turned back to where it had come from, steps hurried and unsure.

The prefect has seen things. They have seen creatures of many magical kinds, most curious of artifacts and wildest of spectacles. They've been through it all. But suddenly, what they found to be fascinating is a regular deer, same as any other one inhabitating the Earth, carrying a little treasure - most likely a trinket lost by a careless student - into the forest. And as they always did, they decided to follow their heart's impulsive call in favor of satiating their curiosity, stalking after the animal carefully, as not to alert it, - tutoring session be damned.

Trail had turned many times, but eventually you noticed a clearing from afar. As if a picture taken straight from a fairytale book, the area was enveloped in light and surrounded by tall trees, serving as a barrier between that piece of paradise and the outside world. Blankets of grass were laid upon the ground, so each of your steps was silenced - nothing could disturb peace there. It almost seemed like time had been frozen. And among all the beauty of nature sat a figure. Flowers bloomed brighter, grass felt softer, predating animals were peaceful and pliant - all in their presence. If not for the most vigilant of them, sensing your smell ever since you passed the barrier, you would've stopped to admire the sight; alas, after receiving a message from one of their little friends, the figure turned around, catching you approaching them.

Their beauty took your breath away.

The first thing - person - your mind brought up is Snow White from the old children's tale. What uncanny resemblance. Cherry-red lips, contrasting unbelievably pale complexion, shiny ink-black hair, and obvious innocence oozing off of every fiber of their being. His being.

"Ah... hello?"

Staying silent would be awkward... and weird. He probably had come here to escape from noisy school grounds and find a sliver of peace and privacy, but here you were, disturbing the angelic boy, having uncovered his secret place, and-

"Hello! What brought you here? Have you perhaps gotten lost?", his smile is something made high above, as that's the only reasoning you could give to the sudden calm that overtook you when you saw it.

"No, not exactly. I just noticed a-", you noticed the oh-so-familiar deer nudge the boy before you with its head, dropping the stolen shiny item off onto the ground near him, "that one deer! It stole something from the school grounds; a student must've lost it, so... as a prefect, I wanted to...", his eyes brightened up upon inspecting the trinket - it turned out to be a keychain - with such child-like wonder, "...as I prefect, I wanted to make sure it got back to the owner, but if you like it, I guess it can't be helped! Doubt I would've been able to find who it belongs to anyways, so...haha.."

"How could I! I am sure this accessory must be precious to its owner, I cannot take it for myself.", in one graceful motion, the stranger got up to his feet and approached you, holding the keychain in both palms, as if offering a fragile and expensive gem, "It's so nice of you to take initiative and go all the way here to retrieve this. Please, bring it back safely, I hope it'll make the person who lost this happier."

He was saying all that like he was entrusting you a task of ultimate importance, and with such a serious expression, too...

"Yeah, sure, I will..", you received the item from him, accidentally brushing fingers against his skin - soft, so soft and gentle... A flash of light blinked in the corner of your eye, but died down as soon as it appeared.

"By the way," it was only at that moment that his uniform catched your attention, "Aren't you a Royal Swords Academy student? What are you doing so far away, especially near Night Raven?"

"Oh, you noticed.. To put it simple, I enjoy taking walks around there. It-", he stumbled over words, first time in the last few minutes, "I got bored of sights near my school, and decided to find someplace different. Surely, I'm not bothering anyone nearby?"

Avoiding questions now? "You're not, don't worry, I was just curious, never seen you around there. Care for introductions?"

"...are you saying you don't know me?", the boy inquired with cleat disbelief in voice.

"If I knew you, would I be asking for your name?"

Still unsure, he shook his head gently, clutching at his vest. "You wouldn't... So you really haven't seen anything?", his tone changes suddenly, "That's fine, more than! My name is Neige, pleased to meet you."

You took the hand he offered for a handshake and gave Neige your own name. Wind picked up a notch, kicking up fallen leaves and dust and blowing right in your face; while you were blinked profusely, the boy still looked like he came out of a magazine cover, if not better than before.

Soon you both went your separate ways, the sparkly keychain clinking in your blazer pocket. Trying to retrace your steps back to Night Raven must be bothersome, but not impossible - you'll be back before dusk.

So thought Neige, staying back behind a tree to have one more chance to look at you. So kind, so simple - knightly, even! So eager to help out a schoolmate in need. And here he thought Gran had been right about NRC students being crude. Or was there a mistake, and you had been sent to a wrong place?

"They would fit in with us well... Dominic would surely like them."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #neige leblanche #twst neige #neige x reader #hnggg i hope this piece look good `(*>﹏<*)′#i've been mulling over this scenario for so long unable to put my thoughts into words!#so frustrating...#yandere

98 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 2 years

Text

Unwelcome Surprise…

Natasha Romanoff x FemHill!Reader

Carol Danvers x Maria Hill

Lessons Learned (Part 2)

Natasha’s an idiot, Tony’s an even bigger one, and Y/N’s an emotional wreck who needs a little help from her friends.

SMUT | 18+ | MINORS DNI ‼️

Angsty as fuck!!! Gaslighting... Abandonment.

18+ !! Heavy Smut!!

"Hate" fuck!!!, Oral/Face riding(Reader), Degrading commentary, Fingering(Both), Breast/Thigh fixation/marking(!!)

Tony Stark, total genius to the world, but ever the idiot to anyone who actually knows him. He's never been one for minding his own business, so when he stumbled upon a random woman who shared a namesake with his teammate he sent her an invite to a Stark party.

"Y/N Romanoff... Let's see if you're as hot as your potential relative..." The billionaire murmurs to himself while he tinkers with his damaged suit, and instructs Friday to send the invitations to the 'Post Deadly Mission Party'.

———

—

You stepped out to collect the mail while your three year old incessantly babbled your ear off, mussing your hair up with his animated hands, as he sat comfortably upon your hip.

"Is that right?" You gasp enthusiastically in an effort to encourage him as you stand on your porch steps and sort through your mail.

Laura stepped outside to wave your way, but you were busy glaring at the envelope in your hand, and then your son stilled in your arms once he saw Nate.

"Mama!!! 'Loot!!" Mason squealed, and you swiftly let his squirming form down once you spotted his built in bestfriend eagerly waiting for him.

"Any word from Nat yet?" Laura questions you with a sympathetic look and you shrug, passing an envelope her way then proceeded to sort through the rest of the mail.

"If she thinks inviting me to a party with her team is going to make me forgive her after three months of silence then she's surely mistaken... Here I am, worried sick about her, and she's apparently living it up with her pals."

"I thought she wanted to keep you all a secret?" Laura—ever the skeptic, states with a perplexed expression.

"Yeah, she's clearly just all over the place Laur'... Leaving me all alone for months at a time, then making me feel like I'm the one in the wrong when I ask for just the slightest bit more of her time. Then Lily hears us arguing, and winds up resenting me come morning when Nat's gone off on a mission to escape me. It's just, I don't think she even wants me anymore."

"Y/N/N, she's never exactly been good at expressing herself, but anyone with eyes could see how much she loves you..."

"Yeah, that's still not an excuse for treating me like I'm easily expendable. This just wasn't where I saw myself, you know? Tucked away on a farm, raising our kids while she runs away from me any chance she gets. I dreamed of traveling the world, broadening my horizons and experiencing the world in all its glory. Then I gave all of that up for this shared dream of having a family together, but she's not living up to her end, and it's turned into a nightmare.”

"Do you ever tell her any of this?"

"All the time..." You sigh out, running your hands through your hair to try to air out your sweaty scalp.

"She either tries to screw me into silence, or gaslights me into feeling bad for making her feel 'guilty' for keeping our world safe."

Laura's face reddens at your candid statement, and you sheepishly smile her way, then the two of you just laugh it off.

"Y/N, just go to the party, try to fix this, because I can't keep watching you mope around anymore. Take the extended olive branch, and if she doesn't work with you, wack her over the head with it." She muses, then you chuckle at her attempt to cheer you up.

"What about Lily and Mason?"

"Sounds like it's time for a sleepover." She shouts in mock excitement and you playfully roll your eyes before going to prepare over the night bags.

"Plus, I'm sure you'll get to see Maria, who I'm certain must miss you." She adds on, which is the icing on the cake because you missed your older sister beyond normalcy.

Lily was more than pleased to find out that she got to get away from you for a night, collecting her bag without so much as a goodbye. Mason was giddy as can be when you had told him that he got to sleep with Nate in his car bed. However, he cried and tried to chase your car down when he realized it meant you were going to be gone.

——

Natasha just got back from a grueling mission of her own, one that had spanned the length of three months. Deep undercover missions used to be her absolute favorite thing, but then you and the kids came along and now she detests them. In the moment accepting the mission felt right, after the horrible fight she had started got out of hand, she just needed to get out of the house. Watching the pain swirling around your eyes had hurt her immensely, and to know it was her doing nearly broke her completely.

—

As you settle into your hotel for the night you dump your bag onto the bed and curse your wife for the last minute invite. She couldn't just call you to invite you—no, she sends mail to your farm that only gets deliveries twice a week; the supposed extended olive branch seems more like a brittle twig at the moment.

You're currently staring at the clothes scattered across the bed, torn between wearing a skirt with a crop top, or the fancy dress you'd pointlessly purchased to wear for your tenth anniversary last month. No matter how much you two fight, she'd never missed any of your important milestones; this time around she did though, and she did it without even a text message thrown your way. Your 'Wish you were here, I love you Nat...' had gone unread and your heart nearly shattered when it did. Nerves start to overtake you as you second guess your decision to even go.

Why should it always be you making the effort to fix things?

Maybe this time you could leave her waiting on you, so she could know how it felt, but then you'd have to lie to Laura, and there's no getting away with that. So you scream into a pillow before settling on the dress then heading off to take a shower, hopeful it will calm your nerves.

While putting the deep forest green halter dress on you'd been admiring the way your body looked, having missed being able to have a reason to dress up. The sound of your phone pinging pulled you out of your feelings though. Opening the phone you saw it was a set of messages from Laura with attached images, your collective brood were lying under a pillow fort in the living room surrounded by snacks. Wide smiles upon their faces, then a simple:

*Get your assassin, and bring her home. 😉*

With an eye roll and quick reply sent you slipped your phone into your bag then set off to hail a cab so that you'd arrive fashionably late to the event. Stepping into the building had left your skin crawling at the sheer size of the guest list. Celebrities were scattered all around the room, but your eyes were too busy searching for your wife to even acknowledge them.

After what felt like years of searching you'd found her situated behind the bar, hand over her coworkers while she laughed at something she had said. Despair had been what hit you first, having always been worried you weren't enough for the assassin, even with the constant reassurances. Once your wife parted from her place you'd approached the bar and took the vacant stool next to the woman.

"Scotch on the rocks please."

The bartender that had just arrived nodded, then the blonde beside you turned to you with a curious gaze, subsequently opening her mouth and instantly falling into your trap.

"Rough day?"

"More like rough year." You bitterly chuckle out while taking a stiff drink from your glass, allowing the liquid to really burn.

"Care to elaborate?" She asks in a teasing tone, clearly looking for the gossip of the century.

"Nothing special really, just a smidge of trouble in paradise. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not entirely sure why they even call it paradise. Marriage is more like when you get a new job, heart overflowing with hope, and you're thinking it's going to be all you dreamed of. Then a few months have gone by, and your boss grows horns as they usually do, and you find yourself in a new version of hell."

"Jesus..." She snorts, her calloused hands instinctually falling to your exposed back in an attempt to comfort you.

The gesture sends shivers down your spine, causing your heart to twinge with guilt, turning in a kind attempt to remove her touch from your skin.

"Enough about me, how about you tell me about you? I don't want to scare you off from love, I promise it's not all bad."

"Oh, my dear girl, I am but a hopeless sap, so you're not going to scare me off that easily. Actually I'd sat down here to collect a drink for my girlfriend and I before an angry woman with an uncanny resemblance to her had cut me in line."

"Carol?!" You gasp, and the women smirks at the way the realization washes over your face.

"Yeah, this isn't exactly how I thought we'd meet, regardless it's indeed lovely to meet you. I'm guessing Natasha's in the dog house then? I'd heard Maria ripping her a new one before she had took off on that undercover mission, but I've learned to not ask when it came to you."

"Yeah, she came home after months away to pick a fight, then took off on a mission with no word to me, which in turn caused her to miss our anniversary and son's third birthday. Then apparently she made it home intact, but chose to go partying."

"In her defense—not to say she deserves it, but she did only just land two hours ago, and before she could get her stuff out of lockup Stark swept her off in the direction of her room here telling her attendance was mandatory and that he had a surprise for her."

That couldn't be right, because if she was gone until today then who the fuck would've sent the invitation to you?

Carol saw the panic written all over your face, concern immediately consuming her as she saw you struggling to breathe, and she was quick to tap her necklace three times before she tried to figure out what was wrong with you.

Maria had been sat on a couch, scrolling through her old text messages from you, admiring the pictures of your kids while Natasha sat beside her with her head in her hands.

"'Ria, I can't be here any longer, you need to help me escape..."

"Tasha, you're a trained spy, and a level 8 S.H.I.E.L.D agent, if you wanted out you'd be gone. Stop pretending you're not terrified of my sister, because as someone who grew up with her I honestly think you should be."

"It's just, the mission was only supposed to be a month... I was so angry in the moment, but then I went and missed two major milestones. They're the one thing I ever did right, and now I might lose her and the family I'd dreamed of all because I never felt deserving of it."

"That's a shitty cop out Natasha, whether you felt worthy enough or not, you had time before you started a family with her. Y/N's dreams were always so vibrant growing up, through all the hell we'd been put through she had still remained so bright. Never once did she dream about motherhood, but once she met you her dreams evolved to fit yours, and all she wanted was to give you that family. You royally fucked up here, so be prepared for the consequences."

Natasha went to rebut, but she simply fell short in terms of a comeback, and then Maria was jumping to her feet with her fingers twiddling with her necklace.

"Carol needs me, I have to go."

"I'm coming too."

Maria said nothing in support of this, but she didn't stop her from following either.

—

Tony was bouncing on his feet like a petulant child on Christmas morning once Friday had informed him that you'd arrived. A nano tracker strategically placed onto your invitation so that he'd be able to track your arrival, and now he was about to put you into the direct spotlight.

Never once did it cross the playboy's mind that this could be a bad idea, because had you really just been a random civilian, well at least now you could say you met the Avengers, right?

Before Maria, and the sulking redhead trailing behind her could reach Carol to help with her unknown dilemma the lights in the room had shut off, then one singular ray illuminated the party stage and the drunken man stood on it.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and folks of all creeds, I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my reactor for making it out tonight. This is the first time in over three months that all us Avengers were able to be in the same room together, and I just think that's worth an elaborate celebration." He greets the crowd, receiving a gentle roar of cheers that he allowed to die down before continuing.

"Now, before I allow this kick-ass party to resume I'd like to make a special introduction. Agent Romanoff...."

He paused for dramatic effect, spotlight landing upon the former assassin, causing every hair on her body to stand at attention in nervous anticipation for what the idiot on the stage had planned for her.

"When I was tinkering around with my suit's, and running my weekly scan of all of our surnames through databases Friday stumbled upon something rather interesting..."

At the sound of his words both Natasha and Maria's heads turned to take in his smirking face, their expressions grim at the obvious thought.

"So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you all to a Miss Y/N Romanoff! How about we see if there's any resemblance to our redhead." He excitedly slurs into the microphone.

Before you could even begin to register his words over your dwindling panic you were being blinded by a rather bright light. This attention only spurred on another roll of panic, causing you to literally vomit up the granola bar you'd munched on this morning all over the floor before your sisters girlfriend feet.

"Okay, so apparently she's not a fan of the spotlight... My apologies honey..."

Tony holds off from gulping in front of the crowd at the sight of the women glaring daggers through him, he's not entirely sure what he'd done yet, but he knew that his life was very much on the line because of it.

"LET'S PARTY!!!" He shrieks in an attempt to reroute everyone's focus, then does his best to fade into the crowd that began jumping along to the music once more.

Natasha made a beeline for the bar, where she was now scooping you up like she'd done all those years back on your wedding night and simply carried you off to the closest private space; while Maria and Carol went after the idiot that quite literally put a target on your back and your safety at risk.

—

Natasha sat your sobbing form down on the couch, painfully watching you curl in on yourself as she herself paced around the room.

"Baby, what are you doing here? We had—."

"Don't call me that.." You reply venomously.

"Baby please, I know I messed up, but please don't shut me out."

Her pathetic pleads are met with your incredulous laughter.

"Shut you out? That's fucking rich coming from you, miss vow of fucking silence."

"Moya lyubov', please hear me out..."

Far too exhausted to fight anymore you simply hummed a broken tune, urging her to go on, while hugging yourself for comfort.

"Fury had said it was only supposed to be a month, and then when it was underway I was too deep to pull out when it got extended out. The whole time I was away I'd spent reflecting on that pointless fight I started with you. I'm so incredibly sorry for how I've been acting, not a day went by that I didn't cry over being away from you all."

Her fingers were nervously fidgeting as she took in a sudden shaky breath before continuing on.

"When our anniversary had hit I was an inconsolable wreck, unable to even complete my tasks for that day. The same mess occurring of me last week when Liam's birthday passed and I couldn't celebrate with my beautiful family. Moya lyubov', I'm going to take time off, Fury's approved me for an entire year, and of course I'm taking it so that we can all travel the world together. It'll be perfect, a dream come true."

Once she finished her pathetic attempt at an apology you were feeling an entire slurry of emotions. Three months ago, and this would've worked on you, but now you'd decided that she needed the reality check of a century. So, even if all you wanted to do was throw yourself into her arms after all these months you had to refrain. Natasha stared at you expecting you to melt into her open arms, but judging by the look in your eyes she knew it wasn't going to go in the direction that she'd hoped.

"Sorry can't fix those nights that I spent alone without comforting arms to hold me while I instead cried myself to sleep." You lightly choke out, failing miserably at containing your sadness, but within a moments notice the same sadness fuels your anger as you get everything off your chest.

"Or will it save me from those nights where I felt worthless, like when I messaged you on our anniversary and received nothing... You never told me it was a no contact mission, hell you didn't even tell me what you were doing at all. For all I know you were out fucking other women."

"Hey! You will not insinuate that I am a cheater! I would never..." Natasha interrupts, heart absolutely ripped to shreds at the notion, but the brokenness behind your shielded gaze has her quieting down once more.

"Nor the irreparable damages those fights have caused to our daughters view of me. She adores the ground you walk on, and all she ever sees is me driving you away. So then I find myself overwhelmed with the toddler who has formed an unhealthy attachment to my hip and the hatred thrown at me on the daily by Lily."

Natasha blinks in quick succession as your angry words come flying out, fighting off an onslaught of tears as she hears how her piss poor abilities to process her anger have somehow transferred over to your daughter

"So, Natasha, while you were crying over your own regrettable choice to run, I was left crying myself to sleep every night over every single mess your decisions had left in their wake. "

"I'm so sorry, please, I'll do anything to fix us... Let's go home, I'll hold you close just like you deserve. I'll talk to Lily—I'll fix this mess, I promise we'll have our happily ever after..."

"This might come as a surprise to you Nat, but that's just not how this is going to go. So long are the days where I just bend to your will, and forgive you in favor of a days worth of your time. You should go home though, collect our kids from Laura, maybe even spend some one on one time with them because lord knows they sure do miss you."

"And what about you?" She questions incredulously over the lump in her throat, tears starting to fall as it finally dawns on her that this will be harder than she thought, the easiness of fixing things is a way of the past.

"I'm sorry, but that's just not your concern." Your flat response comes out, shocking the woman to her core.

"You're the love of my life, the mother of my children and still my fucking wife so it definitely is my concern."

The anger she'd tried to hold at bay in lieu of a civil conversation was quickly getting the better of her—as per the course, the simple thought of you leaving her has the woman full on spiraling. Never had she imagined a reality where you weren't by her side, little did she want to acknowledge that was already the life you'd obviously grown accustomed to, the life she'd been forcing you to live.

"I'm not sure how true any of that is anymore Natasha..."

Something snaps in the shell of a woman sat before you at the words you spit out in the heat of the moment. One second she's crying on the ottoman, the next she's grabbing your hips, slamming you into a wall, and kissing you as if her life depended on it—which for her, it does. This is always her final tactic, if her words fail her which is almost always the case, she uses her mouth in other ways to change your mind.

The anger that had been festering within you for the last year and a half outweighs the lust. Turned on by her actions though, you choose to finally give her a taste of her own medicine, using her body as she's done to you countless times. Using your hands to brutally grip at her waist you move to shove her onto the couch with no care whatsoever.

Natasha gasps at the action, but her mind is too far gone to notice the look in your eyes is beyond the lust of the situation, it's a mix of so much: lust, rage, a desperate need for revenge, all fueled by a deep seeded hurt...

Lips meet with just as much force, your tongue forcing its way into her mouth, exploring the nearly forgotten territory, pulling needy whines from the redhead as your hips roll against her own as you bite down then suck upon her tongue. Natasha's hands work quickly to bunch up your dress, moaning against your lips as soon as she feels your bare cunt, clearly she's trying her hardest to regain a semblance of control here. It's to no avail though as you pull back from her lips, dragging her bottom lip out as you do.

"Tell me Natty, did you miss me?"

"Yes detka, I missed you so much." She groans, frantic in the way she is bucking her hips up, hands on yours to move you in time with her, creating the much needed friction, and showing you just how desperate for you she truly is...

"How much?" You coax out of her, wanting to feel the desperation in your bones before you give in to her; your dainty fingers trailing the expanse of her exposed arms, leaving behind a scattering of goosebumps in their wake.

"So, so much detka, I was fucking miserable. Spent so many nights alone, working my fingers through my folds but it never worked because it wasn't you..." She admits in a frustrated set of whimpers, lips desperately moving against your collarbones as she works to bite her marks into your supple skin.

Bitterly you chuckle while pulling back from her hold, her eyes confused at your sudden change in demeanor, but before she can start to overthink you're using your hands to shove her onto her back, then traveling up her body to straddle her face with your gorgeous thighs.

Natasha's always been weak for your thighs, she could truly spend hours between them; biting into the plush skin while teasing you; tightly gripping them whenever she has to force them to stay open when you're too sensitive to do it on your own. Many nights she'd even fall asleep with her face smushed against one, so it comes as no surprise when she's eagerly wrapping her arms around them.

"Don't fucking touch..." You growl out, swatting her hands away before lowering your dripping cunt onto her awaiting mouth.

Hand tangled within her short red locks you use your firm grip to stabilize yourself so that you can fuck yourself by means of her face, bouncing vigorously with only your pleasure in mind as you work yourself up to your climax. Drenching her face in your slick, using your hold on her head to angle her face just right to receive pressure upon your sensitive bundle. Loud moans filling the tiny room as your wife's muffled groans cause pleasurable vibrations against your lower lips.

Pangs of arousal being sent to her very own core at the idea of being used by you, no more than a means for your impending climax. Although she'd wanted nothing more than to touch you—to please you, it'd be a lie to say Natasha's head wasn't absolutely spinning from your newfound display of dominance.

When your movements began to get sloppy Natasha ignored your earlier warnings, and you were too fucked out to care. Gripping onto your thighs tightly, she was somehow pulling you even further against her face and using her tongue the way she knew you preferred it. Pulling you to the edge in the way only she ever could; your loud mewls evidence of that, and the sole reason for her slick covered thighs.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck...."

Natasha moans against your already sensitive core once the pit in your abdomen finally bursts, your hips stuttering as your abundant release rolls down her tongue, coating her throat and the majority of her face.

With her tight grip on your thighs she's able to flip you onto your back, face still buried in between your legs as she continues to relish in all your cunt has to offer; the smell of you beyond intoxicating, the insatiable need to taste you, the way that you're pulsing around nothing, and on how she plans to change that.

Her lips move to place open mouthed kisses upon your thighs, glistening love bites being left as she follows them up with her tongue, soothing your skin while collecting your slick. As she moves up your body her fingers play around your entrance, lightly tracing over it before suddenly thrusting three fingers into you as her lips attach to your perky nipple.

Her harshly sucking, and occasionally biting down has you arching your back, forcing even more of your breast into her mouth, and she's definitely not complaining; she'll take every last piece of you there is to offer.

Therein lies the problem...

Nearly forgetting yourself you allow your wife to worship your body the way she's done so many times before. Desperation for release driving the both of you, neither of you having really been fucked like this in nearly a year, because the nonstop fighting had always thrown a wrench in your love making plans.

Once her lips travel up, eventually landing upon your own everything seemed to slow down. Reality severely misconstrued as she pours every last ounce of her love into you, soft lips move against yours tenderly, while her fingers perfectly move within you with similar care, gliding effortlessly over your wet walls.

This new softness to her movements spurs on a sudden influx of emotions, fresh, hot tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes as she begins to melt your anger back into its original source of sadness. Natasha feels the sudden way in which you gasp between the blending of your lips, pulling back she hovers over you, observing the sadness in your expression, and her heart clenches at the clear understanding that this is on her.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you like this..." She whispers, slender fingers still continuing their same brutal pace, palming over your clit as she leans forward to kiss your forehead.

"I'm here... I'm not going anywhere..." She whispers in promise, fingers curling in a come hither motion as she continues to pump into you in the hopes that she can bring you to the edge of bliss—to love you through this pain.

Her words have the opposite effect though, serving more so as the reminder that had she just stayed none of this would be happening. Neither of you would be working this hard to repair what was never meant to be broken.

"I love you..."

Those intimate words end up falling from her lips at the exact same moment that your entire body spasms from beneath her, your second orgasm far more intense than the last—hitting you like a ton of bricks; eyes rolling to the back of your head, while your walls clench so tightly that they hold the woman's fingers hostage.

After the high has run its course your arched body collapses against the couch, but Natasha's stilled fingers remain inside you as she places wet kisses to your heated skin, repeatedly whispering 'I love you' with each one she lays.

Eyes shooting open the moment you feel her tears fall onto your cheek, cascading across your skin on its way to blend in with your own. Her pained gaze is intense once your eyes lock, you almost feel sorry for her, but the settled rage slowly begins to simmer again.

Who does she think she is crying like this?

Is she seeking your sympathy for a problem she herself manifested?

Fucking pathetic...

"I love you too..."

As soon as the raspy words leave your mouth she's slamming her lips to your own, you lazily reciprocate the passionate kiss, planning to let it go on until you feel you have the strength to flip the positions.

Saying those words to her was hard, it's not because they weren't true—of course they were, but because giving her this sense of false hope isn't something you're exactly big on. Natasha's always struggled with processing her feelings, hell, it's why you're here to begin with. However, you're not doing this forgive and forget shit anymore, you're going to stick to the original plan and give her back what she's repeatedly given you—a false sense of security.

Wrapping your legs around her waist, you quickly shift and cause the both of you to tumble off the couch and onto the carpet. Natasha groans at the impact, but quickly smiles as she looks up to see you smirking.

"Yeah... I guess I deserved that..." She playfully grumbles before reaching up to pull your lips back to her own, and sighs at the way you move against her with less reservations than before.

For a brief moment you pretend like it's all okay, because for a second it kinda feels like it is. Your hands are quick to remove her dress, eyes widening as soon as you're blessed with the sight of her gorgeous, voluptuous breasts, perfectly ready to be marked up.

Natasha's breasts to you are the equivalent of your thighs to her, and the redhead is more than aware of this as she plans to tease you. Hands groping at the easily moldable skin, pressing them up and tracing her calloused fingers over her nipples in an enticing manner, drawing a needy whimper from her own lips, and driving you absolutely crazy.

"Hands off!" You warn, gripping her wrists to throw her arms to the side of her body before leaning down to harshly bite into the plush skin.

"Fuck..." She shrieks as the pain instantly sets in.

"That's the plan..." You cockily murmur over the pert nipple in your mouth, happily sucking upon it while your hand begins its descent.

Fingers lightly dancing across her smooth skin as they travel down her body, within a moments time she is squirming under your touch as you graze your fingers over her panty covered slit.

"Shit, you're fucking soaked through Natty..." You gasp, finding it rather shocking how aroused she actually is, a subtle hint to you that your lovers apparently been truly holding out on how rough she actually likes it.

While continuing to absolutely destroy her breasts, your fingers push her panties to the side, swiftly sliding into her with no resistance, stroking her walls as you slowly build her up. Natasha's chest heaves from beneath you as your lips work to leave no skin untouched, and skilled fingers continue their ministrations from down below. With every new bite to her skin you feel as her walls flutter around you.

"Just can't control yourself, mindless fucking whore that you are..."

You darkly laugh out over the extremely loud squelching noises that are coming from between your wife's widespread legs as she enthusiastically meets your thrusts, your fingers continuing to be sucked into her dripping cunt.

"You're just so fucking needy..."

"Mhm..." Natasha hums, far too lost in the pleasure of it all to realize what it is you're actually saying.

Her eyebrows furrow, mouth falling open as strangled moans leave her, it's apparent that she's nearing her climax by the way her walls continue to clench around your digits. Fingers scissoring from within, applying pleasurable pressure against her walls to finally push her over the edge, and for a fleeting moment you allow her to enjoy it. Thoroughly enjoying the way that your name repeatedly flies out of her mouth in between a choked melody of curses.

"...I can't fucking do this anymore..."

Finally, you whisper the words that have been painfully etched into your brain for months; the last thing she'd said to you before she left. Abruptly you pull your fingers out of her, leaving her high ruined, and her eyes snap open as the realization washes over her.

"Detka wait!" She whimpers, scrambling to her feet on shaky legs, attempting to reach you but you're somehow already halfway out the door.

Your mask nearly crumbles as you hear the desperation in her voice, and if you were to turn to face her you're certain you'll crumble.

Which is exactly why you keep your body turned away from her as you mutter out a cryptic little goodbye.

You'll break down when you get to Maria's...

"Laura's sort of expecting us in the morning, and when she asks why I'm not there please feel free to tell her that the supposed olive branch was nothing more than a rotting twig."

Natasha crumbles in on herself when the door slams shut, her foreseeable reality bleak, and the agony that she feels quickly consumes her. She really thought it was all going to be okay, she'd make love to you like no other time before, and take a step back from Avenging, but it appears she was too late. Her sobs only seeming to increase the more she thinks about what a life without you would look like.

After hours of unending sobbing she finally picks herself up off the ground, straightens herself out, then hops onto her motorbike for the long journey "home" without a single look back. Nothing more than the harsh winds there to dry her tears now...

Only one thought on her mind as she recklessly weaves through traffic; there's no such house that could ever be a home without you presently in it...

——————————————

5,925 Words

1K notes · View notes