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#me god except nothing is going to make up for not getting to be held at b*rth so……. lol. like you can’t just ask people for that. but it’s
wystericwoes · 2 days
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Doomed pt. 5
Warnings: Cursing, fighting and descriptions of gore + violence.
(Sorry this took so long)
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Sukuna watched intensely through the window, a fist under his chin and robes loosely adjourned.
He stared As you picked a flower up and took it from the vine, sliding it into your loose hanging sleeve. Looking around making sure no one saw as a child would after stealing candy. 
He wondered what you were going to do with it. Put in your hair? A vase? His mind wondered. Why act as if it’s a deceitful act that one could get in trouble for when you could do whatever you wanted? 
“Lord Sukuna?”
Uraume approached him from behind, head lowered. His gaze was unwavering as he continued to stare at you. 
He grunted in response. 
“The councilmans here to see you.”
“Tell him I'm busy.”
“It's important.”
“He can wait.”
She gulped. Hating that she had to be the news bearer.
“He… demands an audience.”
He tightened his fist. 
“I'm afraid word got out. And now all your allies are beginning to talk. Not attending this meeting would only make things worse.”
“Tch.”
He turned around to face her, her head remained bowed.
“Where is he?”
That night dinner was quieter than usual. 
He didn't eat, you hardly saw him eat anymore. He simply watched atop pillows, one fist under his jaw as you indulged. You were no longer intimidated by him when he was like this, pissed. 
“What happened?”
You asked. 
“Nothing.”
“Don’t do that with me Sukuna.”
You said as you lifted a bite of food to your mouth. 
He scoffed and turned his head away pouting like a kid. 
“Something political?”
He was never able to lie to you. 
"Snotty pissboys who call themselves leaders who I have to upkeep diplomatic relations with."
His jaw ticked and fists tightened, the air growing thicker with tension. You decided not to press any further.
“Are you going to be okay or would like some help?”
He looked back at you, you had slid down your robe revealing your shoulder. 
He grinned. 
“I always want your help.”
Before Ryomen Sukuna was what he is today, he was a man. 
A man who had made a mistake, falling in love. 
He was a few things actually. 
A man, a sorcerer, a killer, and a ruler. 
But you held him back from his true potential. There were certain lines he would not cross as he progressed his reign of terror. 
He maintained an air of ruthlessness and a reputation of brutality. It's how he amassed power, no one threatened to cross his merciless path. Rumors of him killing a handmaid for bringing him his tea late, or killing a high-ranking nobleman with a hairpin because his footman offended him. These tales were what kept him on his throne.
But as long as you lived, he would never be able to cross the threshold of true power. Because you gave him morals, and morals were limitations. 
As of right now he was simply a king among men, a powerful sorcerer. 
He desired to be a god, but that simply wasn't possible.
For what god cares for a human?
That human was what he lived for, and what he worked for. 
Uraume and Sukunas inner circle despised you. They watched as the man who was on the rise to godhood was stumped by a non-sorcerer of no exceptional lineage or wealth. But they knew that you held more power over them than any of them combined- Killing you was not an option. You were untouchable, and an unmovable obstacle.
Even with your kindness you were a hindrance to them. They saw what you truly were. 
An inconvenience, A weakness. 
They had to stand by as he gawked at you and adorned you with jewels and silks, hand fed you grapes like a servant. Like he couldn’t snap your throat in an instant. 
Disgusting. 
And all the sex? fucking annoying. 
He would have a warlord waiting in the conference room as you were shamelessly copulating in the springs. 
People started to talk. About the ruthless leader Ryomen Sukuna and his only concubine. 
The one that he spoiled, the one that he daunted around and let speak freely at his side during important meetings and gatherings. 
Concubine. You could never forget that's what you are to most people, and you didn't. But it doesn't matter, because at the end of the day, you're the one who he’ll kill for. You knew that everyone either hated you or loved you, was either jealous or resentful. 
Now usually, fellow people in power wouldn’t care about any usual whore. But you seemed to linger. Always be by his side and be the only one he had- and while the servants of his residence didn’t dare to say anything in fear of his retaliation, his allies and their servants had no such obligation. And once they left his grand estate, people talked.
You walked with an air of power, after a while you stopped caring about all the talk and rumors- because that's all it was. Talk. At the end of the day, they would treat you kindly with a warm smile as you walked by. 
To a few who liked you, they admired you as the olive branch and as the light in his life. the one who stepped in with a moral objection before he killed or punished someone who likely didn't deserve his wrathful hand.
A sweet love story, and the last shred of his humanity. But to most, a mistake. To his inner Jujutsu circle, a hindrance. 
Some nights you could touch him in all the right ways to get him to open up, you were on top, you left the hickeys. 
Your face was buried in his neck, he never made any noise. Just moved. Maybe a grunt. You felt his hips rut against you as you traced the outline of his hard cock through his thin white robes. 
Times like this at his most vulnerable was when you pried.
“Sukuna?”
He hummed against your head. 
You placed your chin on his chest and looked up at him. 
“Why don’t you marry me?”
His breath hitched slightly. But his face remained unmoving.
“You know I'd say yes.”
You pouted into him 
“You’re cute.” He growled. 
“I'm sexy. Not cute. And would be excellent as a spouse.”
You pressed yourself against him, slouching down as if in defeat.
“You are. We’re already together though, is this not enough?”
You sighed and turned around, facing upwards next to him. 
“I just want it to be official. I'm tired of hiding behind doors. You're the strongest right? So why do you worry?”
He could lie and say politics. But he always found himself physically unable to.
“I've never been married before.”
“Neither have I, that's why we should do it together!” You whined as you nuzzled into his neck and threw an arm across his broad chest. One of his stronger ones wrapping around your back.
He chuckled into you. The truth was, a lot of reasons. He didn't want you to have the pressure that came as the married person to a powerful lord such as Sukuna when you were so young, and he also didn't want people to know about you. If he becomes married you become more of a target. Rather than your existence outside his home being whispers of a side piece, the ring on his finger would be an immediate show of “I have a weakness.”
 You could get kidnapped, enslaved, assaulted, killed- 
His fists tightened. 
But also rather selfishly, he couldn't bare the thought of accepting himself as a romantic. A wedding ceremony and honeymoon is all too intimate for one such as himself, he's supposed to be revered and invoke terror. 
You placed a soft hand across his own, easing the tension. 
“I just want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“That I'm yours? What about you?”
“They already know who I belong to”. You said with a sly smile, moving down your kimono donning several hickeys and bites. 
You moved so you were sitting on his lap, he sat up and looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. 
“I want you to do what it takes to become the strongest so we can get married and you won't worry.”
You placed your hands on his chest and rubbed circles across his toned muscles. 
He wasn't just scared of the enemy though; he was scared of losing himself. If he had no restraints, if he was away from his chain of reason and humanity- he couldn't hide the monster you suppressed. and the thought of him losing himself to madness didn't scare him- rather it stressed him out. The uncertainty of it all, the darkness he had been able to hide behind your shining light.
You laid down on him again and his arms instinctively found solace around you.
“Do you know what it would take for me to do this?” 
“I do.” 
“I’d be gone more. I might change.” 
“Life is short, don’t waste it all on me.” 
“It’s not a waste if it’s with you.”
You hummed in contentment as you nuzzled into his neck and closed your eyes. 
"I know you'll never hurt me."
He exhaled a long sigh unfurrowing his brows. You were his humanity, so as long as he had you, it would be fine. 
Right?
To gain power he needed to fight, which meant longer trips. But with your blessing he persisted, even if time away from you was torture. 
“Protect them with your life or I'll ruin yours.”
Was the threat he gave to everyone as he left you alone. 
He hated it. Absolutely fucking despised it Whether he was gone for two days or two months. 
And he quickly learned how to take that rage and loneliness and warp it into his new growing obsession- power.
A name had begun to spring around Japan, as the man who never lost. 
Rumors sprung of a monster terrorizing the region in which he reigned, and the ones outside of it.
Each time he came back to you he had to remind himself who he was, with your saccharine kisses, delicate touches, and careless whispers. Such a stark contrast to the pure filth and violence he was subjugating himself to. 
But each time he left you, a piece of him stayed behind. 
You never cared for the details of what he was doing, ignorance was bliss after all. 
Until he came home with blood on his hands. 
“Sukuna…”
You had gone in to kiss him, and you brought his hand up to your face. But that was when you noticed it. 
“It’s not mine, don’t worry.” he said reassuringly, as if that was somehow better. 
You stuffed it down. He’s a good man who loves you- he would never hurt you. 
It was like a raging fire inching closer to you, but so long as you couldn't feel it, you could keep looking away.
You were looking around for him, trying to find his company as you carried your feet across the estate. 
“Sukunaa!” You sang. 
He came out from a corridor and closed it behind him. 
“I was just thinking about…!”
Scarlet was scattered across his body as if he had been painted like a fine canvas.
You froze. A surge of fresh anxiety hit your veins as your eyes wandered down to the bottom of the door, what was behind it?
“Y/n”
He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him- his eyes were dead. 
This was not your Sukuna. 
You tried pushing him away, but he didn't let up. Instead his grip tightened. 
“Did you know that your handmaid liked you? They were going to confess to you.”
He whispered. 
“Stop…”
“To think that i’ve let myself fall from such grace that everyone has forgotten who you belong too.”
“Sukuna…”
You were not unfamiliar with bouts of jealousy. Of rough nights of fucking and hands on your neck. But in his eyes, there was always love, always sensual and caring underneath those layers of grit and abrasion. Extensive and precise control over his actions so as to not truly irreparably damage you. An air of caution and attention to detail to see if you were okay.
His grip was bruising, nails piercing the skin as rivulets of blood graced your skin. 
He feverishly kissed you, shoving his tongue past your teeth in an aggressive movement. 
You whimpered into him trying to leave, but each time you resisted he squeezed harder. He clogged your airways with his persistence and left you in shock. Pain began to violently spread where his grip was held.
He eventually pulled away as you stayed breathless and panting. 
“Sukuna you're scaring m-”
“Don’t go in there. I can’t help you if you do.”
He cut you off as he released you and signaled for the nearest servant for them to clean the mess. Then he walked away. 
Your eyes flickered to the cracked door behind him, terror coursing through your veins as you wondered what was inside.
The bruise on your hip blossomed shades of yellow and purple sharing an eerie resemblance to the blue lotuses in the garden.
You sat as hot tears glazed your face as the nurse dabbed your wound clean.
Small crescent-shaped abrasions graced across your hues of painted skin, artistic in a way.
The maid cleaning your wounds said nothing as you cried. too scared of what would happen if she dared utter a word.
She wrapped your wound in a cotton bandage, and instructed you to rest. 
You leaned back admiring the hardwood walls and paintings, tears eventually ceasing as you lay alone, and cried alone.
The next few months it only got worse. He would be gone for even longer periods, and he limited your access to the outside world. At first, you could go with an escort, but now only him. And he was never there.
You started to write letters. To him, while he was gone, but you never gave them to him. Writing helped you clear your head.
But who you were writing to wasn't the man who was alive today, it was the one who you knew before you sent him off to become the strongest. 
Sukuna, 
I hope this letter finds you well. Because I, selfishly, am not. I am scared. I am irrefutably alone. Things are dimming and becoming gray, I find myself terrified in your presence, and terribly lonesome in your absence. I am in purgatory. Unable to move, or breathe, I can't even find the words to…
You sniffled as you dipped the pen back into its ink holder and slid into a cold bed. 
You spent that night sobbing. At first quietly, but then you could no longer hold back the choked sobs that echoed through your shared bedroom. 
You had to make a decision. 
And so, you hid the final letter and packed your things.
And left within the dead of night. 
A monstrous roar echoed through the decorated walls.
He violently worked his way through the entire estate, ripping doors and dropping ceramics. 
“What did I say?!”
His voice almost echoed, filling the halls and invoking terror. 
Anyone unfortunate enough to be met in his path was either yelled at, mauled, or both. 
A trail of corpses and pools of crimson met his feet as he stormed through the halls. 
“I gave everyone ONE job. And none of you know where they went?!”
Uraume ran up behind him and hovered a hand over his shoulder.
“Lord Sukuna! Perhaps this is a good thing.”
He turned around to face her, and with his silence, she continued. 
“Now we can focus on your reign! You can inst-”
She was knocked to the ground. 
“Mind your place.”
She put a hand over her face as blood gushed from her nose, 
“I'll deal with you later.”
His words were toxic, malicious and deep, 
“L-Lord sukuna!”
A lady wearing nurses' robes bowed on the ground. 
“I may have information!" her voice shook.
“Well? Tell me!” He shouted
She got up and shuffled over to your room. Sukuna following close behind. 
She slid the door open and the sight shocked him. 
Your clothes were strewn across the floor, as well as papers, ink, and personal belongings. 
You must've left distressed.
Without hesitation she went over to the corner where your writing station was, and popped open a loose floorboard, revealing dozens of letters. All were addressed to Sukuna. 
She handed them over to him as she bowed her head to the ground. 
He grabbed them and began rampantly flipping through as his face fell. He sat down on the shared bed, and he hung onto every word, every affirmation, and every syllable. 
He brought his head up, a fury in his eyes. 
“Pack my things.” 
The nurse nodded and scurried away. 
He had a death induced grip on the papers, crinkling and tearing under his hold. 
He set off at night, alone. 
“I will find you even if I must sacrifice each living soul and cast myself to hell.” 
He made a vow to himself. 
He stormed through each village and town slaughtering every person he saw after he asked his question. 
No one knew what he was talking about, even after he killed their families. Some people would lie, but he could tell- resulting in their death as well. 
His newfound senses and strength had allowed him to know the general direction in which you went, but not specifically where you were.
He pillaged through Japan on a vicious spree of mass genocide. Bodies strewn out like constellations across what was once green grass. 
Men, women, children, babies. All were just sacks of useless weak flesh that stood in the way. 
He would cross the occasional Jujutsu sorcerer, but he didn’t even care. 
They all bleed the same. 
He had worked his way through the night, until it was sunrise. And he didn’t sleep, he continued his rampage. 
Throughout the next two days, an utter massacre as one of the most tragic events befell Japan. The countryside's peaceful silence was marked with grotesque screams, crop fields and farms now watered by blood. Corpses stacked into mounds of death. 
Until he finally reached his destination. It had been days, but he knew he was there. 
He could smell you. 
A small clearing in the forest, with a small village no larger a population than 40 people. 
He had warped into a beast, not quite physically yet, but the toll of murder to this degree puts a mark on one’s soul. 
A specific hut with smoke arising from it similar to your cooking, the door creaked open. 
You were sipping on tea, and talking with a member of the family that had offered you shelter, tending to the food- when the door creaked open. 
The shaded figure bore dead soulless eyes, blood of varying stages of exposure, sharp teeth, and a cruel face. 
“I found you.” 
Your eyes shot open, and your heart began to beat faster as he approached. 
“Excuse me! Sir? You ca-“ 
The sentence was interrupted and followed by a brief momentary silence, carried out by his body collapsing, missing a head. 
Some of the blood splattered on your cheek. 
“S..sukuna….” 
You squeaked out with bloodshot eyes. 
You backed yourself against the wall as he drew closer. 
“Stop it please…” 
He loomed over you, casting a deep shadow until he got down on his knees to be closer to you. 
“You’ve got blood on your face.” 
He brought a stained thumb to your cheek and wiped the blood from your soft skin. 
“Let’s go home. I’ll discipline you later.” 
He tried pulling you up by your wrist but you resisted. 
“I’m not going!” 
He picked you up with a fluid movement and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked, but it was for nothing. You had no effect on him. 
He started walking out of the house as you saw the remains of the one who once offered you headless at your captors feet. 
Tears began to form in your eyes as you saw the form get smaller and smaller. 
You really did try and resist, you did. You pushed and shoved and clawed, but he ignored you as if you weren’t even there. 
“Why are you doing this...?” 
Your voice was weak.
He stayed quiet. Simply looking forward as he walked. 
“I don’t like who you are anymore... I don’t feel safe.” 
He stopped. 
“Who’s idea was it for me to travel and get stronger?” 
You jumped
“I didn’t know that it meant this!” 
“Oh please. What did you think I was doing? Dancing? How else does one become powerful? You aren’t that stupid are you?” 
He was right. You knew he was a killer, you had just denied it to yourself to live in your happy bubble. Tears continued to stream down your face. 
You eventually fell limp and tired from the energy and exhaust, giving up for now. 
He set you down at a tree as he began collecting firewood.
“Stay.” 
Sukuna stayed close as he gathered sticks and logs nearby. 
You shivered as night fell. Leaning against a lonesome tree and hugging yourself tightly, trying to choke back your sobs. Your situation dawning on you cruelly like a whip.
Hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching you, you turned around to see Sukuna shirtless as he held his robe over you. 
“Take it.” 
With a shaky hand you held onto it, and he helped drape it over you. 
He put the final sticks in the pile, and you watched as he created a fire from his own hand, you were much too tired to even question how he could do that. And lit the log.
He made himself comfortable in the grass as his eyes met yours. You flinched upon the contact. 
“I thought you died.” 
He said in a gravelly voice. One that resonates through your entire body. 
“I- I’m sorry…” 
He tilted his head to the side. 
“You’re not allowed outside again after this understand?” 
You furrowed your brows and frowned, looking away.
You didn’t understand how he was remaining so casual, talking to you as if he didn’t just kidnap you and murder people.
You buried yourself in the familiar scent of his clothes. They were musty, but it was all you had. 
Comforting yourself with him from him. 
“Answer me.” 
“Okay…” 
“Okay what?” 
“I understand.” 
“Now go to sleep.” 
“I can’t when you’re watching me.”
You wiped your eyes and sniffled, trying not to think about the situation. 
“I don’t care.” 
You desperately tried to sleep. To close your eyes and forget the day. But then you would feel the monstrous breathing behind you. 
You swear he's a little taller than the last time you saw him. 
Eventually as the night passed, the crackle of the fire lulled you into something close enough to sleep. When your breaths were slowed, he inched closer to you, laying down behind you. 
The blaze of the dying fire dwindled and failed to distract you from your own thoughts. You slowly turned to face the beast behind you to see him asleep, audibly letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 
The warmth he emitted was solace. And his peaceful face hid the killer within. 
Maybe you could lie to yourself long enough to make this work, maybe you could pretend it was all okay. 
You clenched your eyes and shook the thought away. 
It’ll all be better in the morning. 
His eyelids fluttered open, rays of light peeking behind the blinds to reveal your sleeping form breathing rhythmically in short paces. 
He knew he shouldn’t be indulging in this. 
But something about the attention filled a hole in him he never thought he needed filled.
He was always enough for himself. 
It was only temporary he thought, as he sat up and eased out of bed. 
Walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, as quietly as he could. 
This really wasn’t like him. But he had just gotten so used to your unfamiliarity, to your sporadic actions and intangible remarks. 
Even after over a month of living together, he still hadn’t aired out the mystery of you. He decided for the first time to just let it be for a while, let it sit- because things were too good the way they were right now. 
One of you would start cooking or making tea and coffee, then twenty minutes later like clockwork the other would begrudgingly dredge in the kitchen with tired eyes and messy hair, sitting in a chair and accepting whatever plate of food or beverage was slid their way. 
This morning, he was feeling particularly lazy and decided to order food. Something he knew you would have no objection to, considering the last time he cooked you called it “the nastiest tasting excuse for shit food” you had ever tasted. 
Truth was it wasn’t terrible. And your attempts at cooking weren’t much better. But it felt nice practicing together.
He pulled out his phone and began putting in the food as he plopped himself down on the couch. kicking his feet up on the coffee table. 
He could hear your disinclined footsteps from the other side of the big yet humble house make its way over to you. 
“For someone so rich I really wish you had a guest bedroom. You snore.” 
“That’s a pretty interesting way of thanking me for letting you live here for free.” 
You drank a glass of water and made your way over to the couch, sitting down next to him before abruptly collapsing and falling your head into his lap. 
“I can't live in my apartment remember?” 
“What are you feeling for breakfast, sugary or savory?” 
“Sugary.” 
You rolled over to be facing upwards, staring at the bleak and perfectly eggshell white ceiling. 
“A person after my own heart.” 
He finished sending in the order as he set his phone down and also kicked his head up. 
“Why is your house so boring? It wouldn’t kill you to paint it pink or something.” 
“Pink? Really?” 
“Sorry, blue.” 
You looked over at his upwards facing chin, admiring his features until he looked down at you, causing you to avert your gaze. 
“It’s rude to stare.” 
You simply huffed and sat upright. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
“You love it.” 
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” 
You stood up and scampered away avoiding his remark as he shouted at you. 
“Don’t slip and fall!” 
You really shouldn’t be getting used to it. But this routine was so comfortable to you now. And for both of you, served a purpose outside yourselves. A selfishly selfless act. 
For you, the safety and regiment you so desperately needed to ground yourself after all the change and trauma you had witnessed in the last month. Being with Gojo was a slow addiction. you tell yourself you can quit anytime, but realize too late that you can’t live without it. 
For him, the wild and crazy circumstances of the whole thing made it too delicious to quit. The sheer absurdity of it all for him- you being an exception. It was a stronger but fleeting high. 
You had been making impeccable progress, as far as he was concerned. Which was good, because there was so much banking on your success. So much more than you knew. 
You dreamt about him again. All these memories keep resurfacing that you never had. You suddenly developed an interest in ancient Japan and Jujutsu society, taking in any history about it that you could. 
Physically, you still had a long way to go before you reached your full potential, but you were trying. 
You hadn’t been on a mission in several weeks, learning only the basics such as how to wield a weapon and concentrating cursed energy at will. But seemingly everyday it gets a little easier.
You let the hot water roll over your body, an act almost cleansing in the physical and spiritual sense. The steam awakens your senses, and you rest easy knowing when you get out food will be waiting for you in the kitchen. That all things are as they should be for the time being. 
The weather is slowly getting colder, as fall creeps its way over summer. Leading you to wear warmer clothing, a long sleeve and pants. You step out into the kitchen drying the remnants of water in your hair using your mostly damp towel, the smell of food hitting your nose. 
“This is the real reason why I stick around Satoru.” 
“Really? Nothing else?”
You didn't even entertain him as you ripped open the bags filled with stacks of delectable goodness. 
Adjacent to you he got two plates out and utensils, the both of you began setting your plates. 
“Oh and also, you have a mission tomorrow.”
You halted your movements abruptly, slowly turning your head to his unbothered disposition. 
“And you just thought to tell me?”
Venom laced your words.
“I didn't want you to be mad at me! you get scary.”
You took a deep breath and spoke behind gritted teeth. 
“Okay. Care to tell me more?”  
Aggressively shoving food on your plate, he stepped a couple paces farther from you.
“There's been reports of a higher ranked curse going around, weird stuff keeps happening, people dying, mutilation, blah blah. You’ll be accompanied by a pro this time rather than just babysitting.”
“Alright. And will my life be in danger? Are you hiding the details from me again, so I have no idea what I'm walking into?”
“Nope! Not this time.”
  He walked away with his plate of food and sat on the couch. 
“Are there any other details you'd like to disclose before I find out the truth?”
“Not particularly.”
He said before a big bite.
You very annoyingly sat down as far away from him as possible. 
“I better not find out you're lying to me.”
“Just watch a pro at work, that’s all you gotta do.” 
“Do I at least get a weapon?” 
The first thing you notice about Nanami is his deliberate ability to make any situation feel more or less stressful. 
His face bore little to no reactions, his posture stiff and correct, his voice commanding. 
He made a lasting impression. 
The second thing you noticed was that he was also handsome. Not pretty like Gojo or cute like Yuuji, but handsome. 
You trudged through the tunnel of a dark sewer. You had to remain strong. As difficult as it had been to accept over the last weeks, this was going to be your life now. 
You honestly didn’t know what to expect. 
“You’ve been misinformed I assume.” 
He broke the silence. 
“Probably. I have a terrible teacher.” 
“Sounds in character for him. What all do you know of the situation?” 
“Basically nothing.” 
You felt that feeling again, of being in the dark. Quite literally and metaphorically. 
“Itadori and I have done most of the leg work already, the hunt for this transfigurer and tracking its location.” 
“Transfigurer?” 
“I suppose I should prepare your for what you are about to see. If at all it becomes stressful I understand if you want to leave.” 
He took your affirming nod and silence as a means to continue his explanation. 
“This curse can alter one’s physical shape into anything it desires. It’s a truly grotesque and disgusting power. Which is why I take urgency to exorcise it.” 
“By ones physical shape do you mean…?” 
“Humans.” 
You felt a tightness well in your throat. 
“You’re new to this, and if I’m being frank this assignment was not the best to be one of your first. But I suppose this is a good way to throw you into the field and begin developing your tolerance.” 
Tolerance? You wondered what he meant. 
As honest as he was, you knew he was hiding information from you. 
“Nanami, I have a question.” 
He continued in silence, your sign to continue. 
“Is Satoru hiding something from me?” 
He pushed his glasses up and came to a stop. 
“It’s not my place to say.” 
That made your stomach drop. 
“I will tell you this, no single functional mind could comprehend that man’s intentions.” 
He continued walking. A shared silence as you felt torn between not wanting to pry, and desperately needing to know more. 
“Whenever we find what we’re looking for, I want you to stay a consistent 20 paces behind me at all time. If you get in the way it could compromise your safety as well as mine.” 
You simply nodded. Far too on edge to properly respond. 
You weren’t going to question his authority, especially when his confidence made you feel at ease. Usually being commanded on what to would have made you livid, but now you could do nothing but listen. It was mostly silence. 
You just kept trudging the seemingly endless tunnel on edge until something happened.
“H-e…lp m…e…” 
A distorted and raspy voice was heard beyond in the darkness.
You froze. Immediately following Nanami’s rule and slowly easing yourself several feet behind him. 
And you’re glad you did, when what you saw made you feel dizzy. 
A creature with four legs and deep purple skin, eyes on opposite side of its head an no neck. 
Without any hesitation or time to process, Nanami sliced across its chest and with a single blow, killed it. It’s body falling limp at his feet as he continued walking. 
You attempted to remain calm. Seeing as how he was, you were scared of what he may think if you freaked out, you couldn’t imagine burdening him during a serious moment and messing things up. 
“Those are what I was talking about, transfigured bodies.” 
“That was once a…” 
You walked by it, footing unsteady, giving one last fleeting glance at the cadaver. 
“Now you see why we need to eliminate this curse.” 
Sudden emotion over took you as you continued walking, remembering its eyes. Human eyes. 
You shook your head. Choosing to not care in the moment. 
That cycle repeated. A monster crosses your path, Nanami slashes it, and you continue down the endless paths of dim tunnels. 
You weren’t exactly a master at this or anything relating, but it didn’t take a genius to notice your comrades growing irritation. 
“Are you okay?” You muttered
“I only wish this curse would show itself. Even if these are disfigured and beyond help, killing humans leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” 
“Oh Good Good!” 
A different voice approached from the darkness; a sudden gut-wrenching feeling overcame.
“I was really worried someone strong would show up. But you two should be easy to experiment on!” 
Nanami seemed unbothered. Pushing his glasses upwards. They stood in an uneasy silence for a moment. Just a moment.
And before you knew it a series of blows were exchanged faster than your eyes could keep up with. You didn’t even see who attacked first.
All you could do was try and stay out of his way. 
The curse suddenly slid back several feet. Wide eyed. 
“Was that some kind of cursed technique? I should’ve blocked it.” 
“What do you mean some kind? I don’t appreciate questions that are left to interpretation” 
“Oh good, seems you don’t mind talking!” 
“That depends on who I’m talking to.” 
“Guess I’m special then huh?” 
This curse oozed a certain arrogance which reminded you eerily of Gojo. 
You stopped breathing when he pointed to you.
“And who’s that then?” 
Nanami stepped further in front of you to block his view. You were honestly shocked he could see you; you were so far back in the darkness that you could barely even tell what was going on. 
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Emotional support? I guess your job does get pretty tricky huh? Humans can’t handle much.” 
“They're my colleague.” 
He tapped his foot on the ground, seemingly thinking something. 
“Hey what do you think came first? The body, or the soul?” 
You both had a confused look. 
“Y’know like chicken and the egg? Is the soul inside the body, or is the body outside the soul?”
“The former.” 
He was tense. You didn’t like the air around you; the whole situation was awkward. You had been looking at curses as non-human things to ease the guilt and trauma, but to know that they could talk and be coherent, sent you someplace dark. 
“Wrong. The soul always exists before the body.” 
Nanami looked like he could care less. 
“It’s the source of my power. I transform the shape of my soul; it’s not healing or shapeshifting like many believe.” 
Out of nowhere a creature summoned at his hand.
“I make humans small and store them, it’s pretty hard Y’know?” 
You watched as Nanami checked his watch and muttered something under his breath.
“An ordinary person dies after being transfigured. I wonder what will happen to you jujutsu sorcerers…” 
So much had happened you struggled to make sense of any of it. You no longer knew how much time had passed. You would have guessed fifteen minutes- but knew it was probably longer. 
They were ruthless. The punches, the kicks, the blocking and dodging. You felt too appalled to do anything and too interested to look away. 
Somehow this felt familiar to you. Watching it all was like replaying a movie you had seen when you were a young child. Details blurred and specifics unknown, but a certain naturalness came with it once you saw it again. 
“I'm now officially working overtime.” 
Nanami eased his tie, and a sudden shift was felt in the air. 
“So, you have a way to get stronger from fighting past a certain time huh? You’re not half bad.” 
He sported a sickening smile through the entire ordeal. One that made your insides curl.
You watched as the ground beneath Nanami shifted beneath him and lifting him up, another deformed body had been conjured and was serving as an impromptu ledge. He crouched and wiped his thumb across a crying face. 
“I’ve mastered transfiguring souls without killing them. Try not to feel too bad.” 
“I don’t let personal feelings affect my work.” 
It all suddenly hit you. He changes the shape of people into grotesque… things. And all the while they stay fully conscious and feeling. 
“You’re such a terrible liar! About this and your ‘colleague’.” 
A strong sense of justice took over you. 
“So, you just transform people into whatever you want? Just because you look like a freak doesn’t mean everyone else does too!” 
A sudden sense of Deja Vu came over you, remembering when your fear left your body in place of anger when you were fighting that special grade curse. You were no longer yourself, just your emotions. 
Nanami looked back at you shocked, and judging by the curses face, he was as well. 
“Well I’ll be damned. The cheer section has some voice. What rank are you? I hardly defected any cursed energy from you before. I thought you weren’t even a sorcerer!” 
“I don’t have a rank.” 
Nanami sighed. Clearly annoyed at the fighting and provoking. 
“You should get one soon so we can have a proper fight. I’m really looking forward to seeing what would happen to that deformed soul of yours once I get a hold of it.” 
You went to open your mouth.
“That’s enough.” 
Nanami butted in before you two could insult each other again. 
“And what about you my blonde-haired friend? What’s your rank.” 
“Grade 1.” 
“So, you’re strong huh? Perfect for experimentation. Both of you make a fine pair. First, I just have to get rid of the bodyguard!” 
Suddenly, the hand of the curse slammed against Nanami's stomach, flat-palmed. They stood still for a brief moment. 
It felt like time stopped. 
Did he kill him? Was something going to happen? What would happen if Nanami died? You can’t fight this guy by yourself! 
Panic started to set in, and you had to fight every natural instinct telling you to run away. 
“Looks like your soul is being subconsciously protected by cursed energy. But that’s no worry, another 2-3 times you’ll no longer be human!” 
As much as you hated this helpless feeling, you were learning a lot. 
Learning how weak and ignorant you were, and how strong you could be. Nanami was inspiring, unlike Gojo who flaunted strength and barely delivered, Nanami showed and didn’t boast. He simply acted, strength just coming to him, and it suited him well. 
“Y’know you’re getting kind of boring.” 
He looked back to you. 
You felt a breeze hit your face, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 
He was behind you. 
“You’re much more interesting.” 
Nanami gritted his teeth and ran back to you quickly, with a face that could only be described as something between concern and fear. He aimed a critical hit, but his blade was met with nothing, causing him to stumble forward but gracefully compose himself.
The curse was far behind him.
Your knees buckled. You didn’t even see him move, he was well over thirty feet away and he suddenly appeared behind you- you felt your throat tighten and your lungs fail to collect air as the shock subsided.
Your heart started racing, your hands clenched, and face flushed. 
“Well I’ll be damned! Nothing happened when I touched you either!” 
Suddenly, Nanami lunged at the curse, swinging his weapon to which the curse dodged. 
He shouted at you. 
“Hey! Are you aware of your unique soul?” 
You figured it was best to not engage at all. Swallowing a nervous lump in your throat. 
“Your fight is with me, leave them alone.” 
“Why bring them along then? It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that their soul is in a different shape, does it?” 
“A different shape?” 
You muttered out. 
“Yeah! I’ve never seen anything like it. You two are sure an unforgettable pair. I really wonder what would happen if my cursed technique worked on you.” 
“Y/n.” 
Nanami's voice cleared the space of your spiraling thoughts. 
“Leave.” 
You hesitated for a second, before turning around and letting your feet carry out as fast as you could, back where you came in from. You heard fighting and struggling behind you as you disappeared into the dark, not daring to turn around. 
When you reached the entrance, you nearly vomited.
You held your stomach and doubled over, supporting yourself on some near railing, the events finally settling in. 
Everything seemed to be delayed in these slowly turning familiar terrifying circumstances. 
You were panting and shaking- trying desperately to compose yourself. 
“Y/n?” 
You slowly turned your head up trying not to hurl as the images and phrases repeated in your head. 
It was Yuuji, accompanied by a black-haired teen you hadn’t seen before. 
“Are you okay?” 
He looked so concerned.  
“Y-yeah. Just…” 
You felt bile build up in your throat, moving a hand over your mouth and the other to hold up your pointer finger in a ‘one second’ motion. 
The boys looked at each other awkwardly. 
“Just... adapting.” 
“I get it. It was hard for me too, in the beginning.” 
A still silence sat for a moment. 
“Wanna come with us? we could sit down somewhere and maybe get you a drink or something?” 
You slowly nodded your head yes. 
The darker-haired boy didn’t seem to talk at all as you and a Yuuji conversed, maybe he was just shy. You didn't care enough at the moment to ask questions though.
The three of you sat on concrete steps overlooking a river, holding sodas. 
“They were people once. And when I finally found that out, I just couldn’t hold back this feeling of dread.” 
“Yeah. I felt the same way.” 
“How do you do it? Keep it together? You both lived normal lives then suddenly had to throw it all away for monsters and magic.” 
“You don’t have a choice. These things, they’re true evil. They’re not people, and they only exist to kill. And I guess, knowing that they exist and that I can do something about it is better than not doing anything at all.” 
You sat on that. This was a chance for you to better the world, to make a change.
“I guess I never thought about it like that.” 
“And Y’know, you don’t get any awards or medals or credit or anything. No ordinary person will ever know what you do for them, but you have a community to share that with. It’s not like Spider-Man where he goes home every day and has to pretend everything is normal. You have friends who are like you!"
“Did you just compare Jujutsu society to Spider-man?” 
“It works doesn’t it!” He flashed you a smile that made you feel better.
It does.
“I just don’t think I’m ready. Ready to fight… monsters or anything.” 
“Not many people are. I guess I’m an exception because I want to help people more than anything. You just got to find that motivation!” 
What motivates you? 
You wanted to help people. But not as passionately as Yuuji did. You weren’t angry enough to take it out on curses like Gojo suggested, and you weren’t calculated like Nanami where you could treat this like a day-to-day job. 
So why even do this? Self-defense? 
Your head perked up. 
“Answers.” 
Yuuji turned his head over at you in confusion. 
“Huh?” 
“I want answers.” Your fist tightened. 
“I have to go, thank you.” 
Yuuji and the other boy stared at you as you walked off. 
You stormed inside the home after unlocking the front door. 
You took off your shoes and walked past Gojo on the couch. You didn’t utter a single word to him. 
“So, how’d it go?” 
“Tell me the truth.” 
“I asked you a question first.” 
He joked, but quickly his smile dropped as he saw the seething expression on your face. 
“I want answers, Satoru. No more half truths or bullshit.”  
With a blank expression he stood up, walking over to you. 
“What do you want to know?” 
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pepprs · 1 year
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the bull smashing plates in my brain right now.
#dangerously mentally ill atm. about to snap and start screaming and crying hysterically in the middle of meetings.#purrs#it’s fine btw i just need to be honest and i need to ask for comfort and accept it. but i fucking can’t. but i need to and i have to so hel#me god except nothing is going to make up for not getting to be held at b*rth so……. lol. like you can’t just ask people for that. but it’s#the way that i need to be married so bad so i can finally be normal. im completely serious. i need to be married. being someone’s number on#will fix me. and i also need to not have k*ds i think bc mike birbiglias the new one special made me SO deeply angry and upset and i can’t#even take it. like i think maybe no one in love should have kids ever again. i truly believe that. if you can’t give a kid your deepest tru#truest love then it fucks them up for life and if you can do that then it erodes the relationship you have with your partner so. basically#wish i didn’t exist kinda. and i wish none of the good things in my life had happened to me because it gave me hope for things that can’t a#actually happen and i have just been delusional about someday being healed all this time. i will be wounded and alone forever and i want to#go lie in the trench they’re digging in the backyard about it 💃🏻🥳#delete later#i just want to play wobboedogs on the switch and forget i am a human being. that’s all. that’s literally it#cominng back to this a couple weeks later um this was one of the most mentally ill posts i have ever made in my life. sorry 😚✌️ x
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crystalflygeo · 7 months
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Mark of an Archon ft. Venti / Zhongli / Ei / Focalors / Nahida / Neuvillette + gn!reader
cw/tags: Mostly suggestive but nsfw in some parts (mostly Zhongli, Neuvillette) marking, kissing.
notes: Alright so... this is different from anything I've written before but I got inspired by the concept of the elemental symbols used as marks by the Archons to denote those important to them. Just short fluffy little dabbles I guess, first time writing everyone except the dragon men heh. I tried REALLY HARD to keep this gender neutral and be inclusive in descriptions but regardless, reader bottoms lmao. Hope y'all like it. (Y'all will NEVER guess where did I get the inspiration for all the marks' placements hehe) Edit: Y'all I have never played obey me WHEEZE the marks placement actually comes from a very old magical girl anime I loved as a kid XDDDD (except geo, it was on the belly button but-//hit)
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It is said that the Archons place a mark on the body of their loved ones. A symbol of protection, perhaps of “ownership”, imbued with their elemental energy. Legends has it that they remain mostly invisible to the naked eye, glowing brightly only when the Archon in question touches it, but leaving behind a distinctive trace able to be identified with elemental sight.
However, none of this has been proven at all, and remains mostly as a fantastic tale, just a rumor…
Or is it?
-Barbatos
Venti’s mark rests between your shoulder blades, the small Anemo sigil emulating tiny wings in the most appropriate of places. It makes him fond of calling you his “angel”, though, you know it cannot compare to his own real wings... it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.
It remains mostly covered, and yet without fail, Venti’s hand would always gently rest on it before his hand slides over to your shoulder or waist. At this point the touch soothes you and you’ve come to expect it every time you enter Angel’s share and bright Aqua eyes land on you.
In the dark of night, those precious moments of closeness and passion among the bedsheets, Venti’s nimble fingers, calloused by the Lyre and the bow alike, trail along your spine and stop at the mark, before he leans in and places a kiss on it.
For the God of Freedom to brand someone like this… it would seem as a contradiction, but you know it to be his blessing, his vow to you and your love. As his lips go up to your shoulder and his hands slide down to your waist, sneaking between your legs, he closes his eyes and hums a soft tune.
-Morax
The Geo mark is found on a rather unusual place, and to tell the truth, it even embarrassed you a little at first. The golden diamond placed just below your navel, partially hidden by the line of your underwear. When asked about it, Zhongli simply murmured something about dragon mating, fertility or virility… his cheeks dusted red.
You admit though, that once you get used to it, you do find yourself idly tracing it from time to time. Sometimes it seems to glow softly, or feel warm, perhaps responding to the Archon when he thumbs gently at it, contrasting and comparing with his own blackened arms, etched with veins of gold. Amber eyes staring up at you with love and desire as he places a kiss on it making you shiver.
Zhongli constantly wants to mark you more, in all sorts of ways. Drape you in silks and cover you in gemstones and gold. Leave bite marks along your skin. Douse you in his scent. It appeases his draconic instincts. But nothing compares to that little geo sigil, a personal indisputable claim, tattooed on your skin.
In a way, the mark could be taken as the God of Contracts’ signature and an unbreakable oath to you, his mate. It makes the dragon purr as he rolls his hips into yours, sinking deep inside you and making you whine as his palm presses against it.
-Beelzebul
Right at the center of your collarbone, like a pendant held by an invisible necklace, that is where the Electro mark was placed by Ei. Sometimes it’s a real shame it can’t be seen normally by humans, it would make for a pretty nice tattoo…
It’s not like the Electro sigil is rare to see anyway, quite the contrary, a rather popular choice and common sight all over Inazuma with deep cultural and religious meanings alike honoring Her Excellency. But one look from a youkai or one of the mikos at Narukami shrine and you know this is different.
Ei could act aloof and have a hard time expressing or understanding feelings, but the way she looks at you as she straddles you… dark violet hair cascading down her back and sides, hands roaming your chest and settling at your shoulders. She pins you there under her intense purple gaze and then bends forward to kiss at the sigil before moving to your lips.
The Goddess of Eternity considers her choices deeply and rarely ever goes back on her word or breaks a promise, and that is what she bestows upon you with her mark, a promise. Of love, of respect, of loyalty. Who would’ve thought the Electro Archon could be so… passionate?
-Focalors
You couldn’t believe just where Lady Furina had placed a pretty, blue, Hydro symbol on your skin. When asked about it she’d just giggled and said everything had a reason when it came to divine marks such as these… then proceeded to not explain at all. But seriously, your inner thigh?!
You could only sigh but smile softly at her antics as she laid across the couch, head rested in your lap, taking a nap by using your thighs as pillow, or demanding to be fed more sweets and sputtering indignantly when you poke at her nose or cheek instead, blushing.
She often drives you insane, paying special attention to the hydro marking with kisses and nibbles when you need her lips to go just a little more to the side… but oh, how she enjoyed teasing and riling you up. Mismatched blue eyes blinking coyly under thick eyelashes.
This is Lady Furina’s pledge to you, her word of honor as the Goddess of Justice, to love and cherish you no matter what. For despite her innocent act, she is guilty of having fallen for you.
-Bonus: Buer (Platonic)
Many people underestimate and doubt Nahida. A grave sin, in your opinion. When she places her mark of Dendro softly in your forehead, you feel nothing but pride, willing to follow and defend her and her teachings, for it is an honor to be her acolyte.
You see her wisdom in her actions, in the contemplating looks at her beloved city and people, in the way she always tries to solve problems and learn from difficulties, in her kindness, gentleness and little smiles. You see her love in the way she helps the elderly and soothes the children, in the candied ajilenakh nuts she shares with everyone, in the sparkle of her unique green eyes.
Like any other Archon, her nation and all its inhabitants are like her children. Despite her preferred appearance, the way she holds your hand as she guides you along and brushes at your hair gently with comforting words and praise feel more akin to a mother.  
Just as you trust her, she trusts you, that is the covenant her sigil represents. And in the eyes of the Goddess of Wisdom, one day you’ll reach the sky and stars above.
-Bonus II: Hydro Dragon Sovereign
You stare at the sigil in the palm of your hand. An ancient symbol of power, no doubt, but with a meaning long since lost to time and shrouded in mystery. Yet, its significance is crystal clear to you: “I am yours as you are mine.”
The way the Iudex would always, without fail, hold your hand gently and kiss your palm instead of the back of it as it was traditional would no doubt confuse some people, but it makes your heart skip a beat. This special connection, the knowing look from those gorgeous lavender eyes and the hidden smile pressed against your skin…
Your back arches with a moan as Neuvillette ruts softly into you, slow and reverent, peppering kisses and nuzzling at your neck. His hand takes a hold of yours, fingers intertwining and you shiver as the marking in your palm seems to react. Your grip his hand tighter, canting your hips as well and surrounding him with your legs, asking for more, more, more-
It’s unknown if one day his kind will return to power, just as it’s impossible to predict the flow of the elements and the energy in leylines or just what the future will bring. But for Neuvillette, having you by his side feels like the most refreshing spring water and makes life that much sweeter.
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nereidprinc3ss · 25 days
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
part one | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?���
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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mrslankyman · 4 months
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Let me lick on your tattoos
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Midas (fortnite) x (fem) reader
->SMUT
-> reader works for Ghost agency
-> 3k words
-> not proof read yet
You walked around the Agency. One of the many agents working under Midas and the Ghost organization. Your white suit hugged you beautifully. The accents of gold matched the Agencies aesthetic. 
Midas seemed to just love gold. As it was apparent by his hands and touch. You smirk as you remember the last incident with him. He had come back to his office after a long day. He always seemed so gruff and angry. 
The second you entered his office he sat up. He never wanted to be seen slouching. He didn’t want anyone seeing him in any way except vigilant. He needed to be known as a stone cold leader. 
The curse he was given now seemed to aid him in his missions. Easily just turning enemies to gold. Though he could somewhat control his power he longed to just be able to touch someone. 
It seemed while his agents trusted him he noticed none would ever touch him. Not even a brush on the shoulder.
Except you. 
You’d come in and grab the papers he handed you without hesitation. Hands brushing on his cold golden ones. 
He would hide his blush by turning away in his chair and dismissing you. 
He hadn’t had someone touch him since his late wife. That was long ago. 
Jules was off somewhere else. He wished her well. 
She would not like the idea of her father with some random agent he hired. 
Or would she?
He always found himself wanting to make her happy. She was the last thing he had to be happy over.
Till you.
Now every mission seemed like a death sentence. He would send you out and desperately wait for your radio back to make sure you were okay. 
He would never show that side. He came off as cold and aggravated half the time. 
A hot kind of anger.
You’d annoy him on purpose. Giving him attitude or telling him off when you knew you were right in an argument. 
You headed down past his office. Assuming he was leaning over his desk with his brows furrowed, hands clasped together deep in thought. That’s how he was always there.
Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to just be in there with him.
Not getting in trouble for some mishap on a mission. 
Just in there with him. 
Maybe you had to admit you had a slight attraction to your boss. 
He was quite handsome. 
His tie, slender build, cold demeanor and that scowl he wore on his face. 
Oh and those tattoos.
How you ached to see the ones under his uniform. 
Good thing the second you walked past he radioed you to come into his office. 
You obliged and turned back around. 
Heading back to his office and opening the door without knocking. 
How he got so annoyed at that. 
“Forgot to knock.” His deep voice hit your ears.
“Oops habit.” A smirk tugged at your lips as you sat in the chair in front of his desk. Legs crossing slowly. He watched you cross your legs, his one good eye taking you all in. Oh how he wanted to just shove you against the wall and fuck the attitude out of you. He fought back those thoughts and rolled his eyes at your response. God how he just wanted to press his lips to your moody ones. 
“You gonna stare at me or tell me why you need me in here?” Such a sassy response. He bit his lip slightly and held his hands together. He leaned over the desk a little, his eye cold. “I called you in here so I can ask you about the most recent mission. You thought it was a good idea to seduce the Shadow guard?” His voice seethed of anger and what else was that? Jealousy? 
“Hmm it was a good idea, he fell for that sweet talk and I just flashed him. Nothing bad.” You shrugged and leaned back in your chair. He scowled at the idea of you doing that. 
“That is outrageous for you to be doing out on missions! You are a sophisticated agent, you should not be going around flashing your breast to random enemy agents!” He slammed his fist against the desk. The part where his hand met the wood turning to gold. His anger was really showing. 
You simply smiled at him. Not affected by his anger. It turned you on more than it put you off. You saw how his nose and eyes scrunched in anger, his jaw clenched and his face turned slightly red. 
“Seems someones a little jealous that they weren’t the ones getting flashed.” You bit your lip and slowly slid your leg that was  crossed over down. Spreading your legs open a little. His eye instantly traveled down and then back up. 
“Why would I be jealous of that.” He eyed you suspiciously. You sat up a little bit and leaned over. 
“You just give me a lot of reasons to think that.” You statted matter of factly as you unbuttoned your blazers single button. Popping it off and sliding it behind you on the chair. Your hands traveled up to your white dress shirt collar. Undoing its button and then traveling down, just enough to expose your bra. 
His gaze traveled down to your chest. He bit his lip ever so slightly. He had a good way of showing he didn’t care on the outside but on the inside.. God his body was churning. He could feel himself hardening in his jeans. He looked you in the eyes. “I’m not jealous of that Shadow agent.” He stood up from his chair. His imprint in his jeans is noticeable. He didn’t care right now. He wanted to show you that he in fact did not give two shits about someone else seeing you in ways he longed for. 
His body loomed over you. His head titled just enough to show off some of his tattoos better. You bit your lip and pulled your bottom lip down with your pointer finger. “Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?” A teasing remark slipped through your lips. Soon enough you found his hand gripping your chin. He leaned down to your level slightly.
“I’m not happy to see you, I'm irritated by you.” He warned in a low whisper. His lips were close to your ear and it was honestly so hot. To hear his voice even lower, your eyes flicked down to his crotch. Seemed like he was enjoying being this close to you. No matter what he says.
“Oh I'm so sorry that I irritated you.” Your hot breath hit his neck. He instinctively leaned closer. Wanting no longing for you to take this further. Despite what he says. He would deny deny deny but he truly wanted you. 
“Perhaps I could.. Irritate you more.” You kissed his jawline and slid off your dress shirt. “Unclasp my bra, I know you want to.” He groaned, the small kiss on his jawline had made him increasingly hard on worse. He gave in and unclasped your bra. “I’m doing it so you’ll leave me alone.” He lied, he wanted to see you. He wanted you. Simple as that. 
If exploring your body was a mission he would be the first one to jump on board. 
“Okay yeah, sure boss.” You hummed in fake agreement as he let himself take in your naked top half. 
God he just wanted to get these tight ass jeans off and feel any part of you around his dick. He didn’t care if it was your mouth, hands, or pussy. He just wanted you. In any way you’d let him have you. 
“Fuck you.” He groaned out as he watched you jiggle your breast. 
“Oh you wanna fuck me? You really know how to get to the point huh?” You bite your lip, tugging him closer by grabbing his tie. “Admit it Midas.. You want me. Don’t lie. It’s just me and you. No one is going to judge you for giving in. Showing a little.. Affection.” Your eyes flicked down to your lips; voice laced with lust. 
“You really are the observant agent huh?” He gave in slightly running his cold golden hands across your exposed breast. You moaned slightly as the coldness of his hand touched your nipples. He felt his body react to your noises. He himself let out a low grunt.
“You better pray that no one walks in, or your ass is in trouble.” He sneered in your ear as he picked you up. The quick sweep off your feet made you giggle slightly. 
“Oh ya? My ass is in trouble? You're gonna spank it or something.” You quipped back running a hand through his hair as he shoved things off his desk to set you down. 
“Something like that.” He nodded and grabbed your knees. Spreading your legs apart and pulling you to the edge of the table. 
He put himself between your legs and pressed his hard on up to your core. 
“Oh ya, you seem very irritated by me.” You teased and he groaned in annoyance as well as pleasure. 
“Shut up or I’ll make you shut up.” He growled in your ear. 
“How are you gonna make me?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes fluttering as you asked. 
“Either I'm gonna shove my dick in your mouth or I'll kiss you so hard it bruises your lips.” He breathed on your neck, teasing you with his hot and drawn out breaths. 
“I think I like both options..” You snickered and ran your left hand up the back of his neck into his hair. He shook slightly as you ran your hand through his hair. 
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long..” You leaned in closer. Kissing his neck and licking over the lines of his tattoos. Following the designs with your tongue. You had never heard a man moan so slowly as him. 
“Fuck.. you’re such a damn tease.” He breathed out as his body shook from your licks and kisses on his neck. “I love your tattoos.” You said between kisses on his neck. Leaving a few hickeys. “Oops..maybe we should take off your vest and shirt.. I’d love to see all your tattoos.” You leaned back from kissing his neck. You wanted to know what the tattoos looked like fully on him. 
His response was a low moan, his head rolling back. Your hands ran down his vest and unbuttoned it. Sliding it off him in one quick motion. He was like a rag doll. 
Moving with your motions; not protesting at all.
Then his tie was off.
You took your time unbuttoning his shirt. Tattoo after tattoo coming into view. You took in every one mentally drawing out routes for your tongue to take over the patterns. You didn’t even notice how he watched you gaze at his body. Once his shirt was finally off he stood only in his dress pants. A sight to see. The outline of his dick was almost screaming to be released from its prison. 
“Fuck.. “ He whimpered.
You bit your lip gripping his chin. He looked down at you, from the angle his head was at his eyes had that pissed off look. The one that screamed: you better watch what you do. 
“Don’t give me that look, you can say you like this. You’ve made enough noises for me to know.” You teased in such a seductive tone he almost just gave in. Dropped the demeanor of trying to keep his dignity. 
Your hands traced over his shirtless body now. Fingers tracing over every line and loop of the ink that painted his body. You wondered how much pain tolerance he had. Must not be much if he can’t stand the boner in his pants for longer than 5 minutes. 
You pushed him back gently, hopping off the desk. His eyes watched as your breast jiggled from the slight jump.
You smiled up at him and looked at his chest. You kissed his shoulder. He closed his eyes as your lips traced down to his chest. You licked over his inked skin. Following the lines of the tattooed wings. Gliding your tongue over his nipples a few times to tease him. Moans escaped his lips a few times. The way you glided your tongue over him and bent down slowly. Getting lower and lower.. Fuck you were good. 
The lines of his tattoos stopped right at the him of his dress pants. You looked up at him with a teasing smile. His response was an eye roll and a lip bite. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me too.” You said it so sweetly, going to get up from the ground. 
“Fuck, just suck it.” He demanded unbuckling his belt in annoyance. Not at you but himself. He sighed a little as his belt released some of the pressure on his dick. You shook your head with a smirk. Going back down and sliding his pants to his dress shoes. 
“Oh I think I'll have fun sucking it.” Your tone was soiled with lust. You could feel yourself growing even wetter. 
You palmed him through his boxers, those beautiful moans of his escaping his lips without hesitation this time. “Don’t fucking tease or I’m just gonna fucking shove it in your mouth.” He warned, his voice sounded almost deadly. 
“Yes sir.” Your said submissively sliding off his boxers quickly. Watching as his dick sprung up. You got to work. Taking him in your mouth. Going slow to antagonize him at first. His response? Gripping your hair and shoving himself fully in your mouth. You gagged slightly but took it. After he let go you continued at a faster pace. Taking whatever you couldn’t reach with your mouth with your hand. His moans filled the office so loud it wouldn’t surprise you if the whole agency heard. 
Before you could feel the warmth of his cum in your mouth he pulled you off. “Get on the desk. Now.” He growled in such a low demanding voice you could feel yourself getting wetter every second. You sat back up on the desk. Legs spread slightly. He kicked off his shoes then his pants. Walking up to you. Sliding off your pants so fast you almost forgot you had them off. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to go on any missions for a week.” He whispered in your ear as he got closer to you. Lining himself up with your entrance before sliding in. Despite his current threat of fucking you so hard, he slid in slowly. Letting you get used to the feeling of his dick in you. 
“You gonna fuck me hard or fuck me like i’m your new virgin girl friend?” You teased grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. He grunted and slammed his hips into you. You moaned, leaning your head back before getting used to the slams. He kept up the fast pace letting out his own moans and groans. Your tongue found his neck tattoos all too quickly. Tracing over the designs. Your teeth leaving sweet love bites all over. 
“You’re so fucking.. Fuck.. I’d turn anyone into gold for you.” His voice shook in your ear. He was sweating and grabbing you so hard. “Oh yeah? Would you do anything for me baby?” You asked as you leaned closer to his face. He opened his eyes and looked at you. 
“I’d do anything for you, baby.” He offered the pet name back. You laughed quietly and kissed him softly. Countering the rough pace he was going.
You two shared a sweet and soft kiss, as the feeling of his dick ramming into you was also present. He loved how soft your lips were. How you let a few moans slip out allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth. 
Your tongues danced around each other before he pulled away. Letting out a low moan: a warning of the orgasm he was about to hit. You too let out a soft moan. He slid his cold golden hand down. Circling your clit with his pointer finger, urging you to cum. With each circle you felt yourself getting closer and closer. 
“Cum with me baby, just let it out.” He groaned his request into your ear, with that you felt your self com undone. As you hit your climax a second later he hit his. The warm cum filled you to the brim, he didn’t pull out right away. He sat for a second catching his breath. He looked even hotter here. Your arms had wrapped around his shoulders, his hair sweaty and messed up, eyes droopy from finally hitting his biggest high. 
“You were so good..Maybe i’ll put down a special mission for you to just come in here and-” 
“I’d like that.” you cut him off giving him a kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed back pulling out of you after it ended. 
He walked off to get some tissues to clean you and himself up. Afterwards you stumbled to the door. He rushed over. His tie was crooked and your suit was all wrinkled. Neither of you cared. He helped you down to your room in the upper end of the agency. 
“I’ll see you later, baby.” He flashed a genuine smile before walking out. Your heart skipped a beat. He never smiled.
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jayswhorex · 1 month
Text
guns & roses 🥀
ak!jason todd x f!reader
here's part 2
his skin slapped against yours, giving you rough thrusts every second. Your nails digged into his shirt while your legs were hooked around his waist. you held on tightly as the red hood fucked you up against the wall of one of his safe houses. "can't believe you're taking my cock like this, even after you've cum, how many times is it now?" you weren't sure how you ended up in this position but you weren't complaining especially when his cock felt so good. your bra was practically falling off and you had no clue where your underwear was. his pants were at his ankles and his holsters were on the floor. you couldn't deny sex with him was messy but it was so worth it. "oh fuck you, just shut up and keep fucking me, that's your job isn't it?"
you felt his thrusts pick a sloppy and desperate rhythm, one you'd felt many times. "you want me to shut up or you wanna get fucked like a slut? you only get one" his groans became louder and he looked up at you, practically locking eyes with you. if his helmet hadn't been on, you'd probably find this intimate but this was nothing like that. this was his way of reminding you, that you were his whore, nothing more. just fuckbuddies, for each other mutual release. work had taken a big toll on you and the red hood would never tell you was bothering him but you always saw the effect of it when he fucked you.
your moans became a mixture of begging for him to stop but also begging for more. "red can't take no more- oh fuck! harder harder harder! please red" he was big, if you didn't already know, and he barely fit in you the first few times. but once you started to take him more & more often, he made sure that he'd bottom out in you every time. if you could take all of him, why wouldn't he take advantage of it?
he let a couple of frustrated groans, swearing at you constantly but you loved it. you knew he was stressed and frustrated and had so much pent up inside him, you were goddamn release. so he'd fuck you any way he liked, as long he to make of you. out of everything, you were the one thing the red hood could control in his life and he needed that. "just fucking shut up and take it, baby, we play this little game every week and it always ends with you begging for more" his hands move towards your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you even closer to him, so he could fuck you just the way you wanted. "ohhhh god! i'm gonna cum red, m'gonna make a mess" you slurred, being drunk on just his cock.
"good girl, cum f'me like my little whore, then i can paint your thighs for you," he said while pounding you into the wall. your face was stained with tears, you could barely catch your break and everything felt so good and bad at the same time. you weren't sure if it was his words or the way he grabbed his face and forced you to look at him but you practically came on the spot and the red hood followed as he quickly pulled out of you.
you whined at the empty feeling of a lack of warmth, while he spilled his poad onto your thighs, painting your thighs with his load. the red hood wasn't going to be risky with you especially when you didn't know him that well.
except you did. but he didn't want to remember those times.
he got you a towel to clean yourself up and you placed your hands on his shoulders trying to steady yourself. the red hood made a grunting sound in annoyance and that quickly made you let go of him. he pulled up his black jeans and grabbed his holsters along with them.
the grunt had snapped you back into reality. you quickly began to grab your clothing that had been flung around while also putting it back on. you searched everywhere for your underwear but couldn't manage to find it and accepted defeat. this wasn't the first time you'd lose clothing because of this man and you hated it. the two of you hated each other, whatever you had was just for sex, well it was supposed to be just for sex. you don't even know the man's identity or what he looked like, but that doesn't stop your desire for him.
the red hood made himself comfy on what seemed to be his bed. he took off his holster and removed the gun, unloading it before placing it in a locked drawer. you watched him contemplate taking off his helmet in from you but he quickly redacted his hands from his head. he needed you to pray soon, not just cause he wanted to take off his helmet but also because he didn't need you snooping around this place. you'd find a lot of things you weren't ready for. your eyes focused on the bed, something about how messy it was caught your eye. it was messy enough that maybe two people had been in it…
you knew you couldn't possibly be the only one he's fucking. but it didn't bother you any less, you'd think he'd have the decency to clean up when he invites you over but he doesn't. another annoyed grunt leaves his lips, as he looks up, with his helmet still on. "you plan on staring for the rest of the night or what?" his voice was deep and strained like it was trained to talk that way. he knew you had been staring at the bed, and he knew why but there was no point in teasing you now.
"don't be a fucking ass, i'm just about to and you were the one who dragged me here dickhead"
"yeah, for a fuck" he said followed by a laugh, "i think it's time for you to go home"
"next time how about you call one of your other whores, i've got an actual life unlike you who goes around this city playing pretend" you knew the moment those words left your mouth, that you were fucked and not in a good way. you planned to quickly get out the door but you weren't quick enough. he slammed the door shut and locked it, trapping you in the middle.
"you think what i do doll, is for fun? that's it's a game?" he asks grabbing your face and forcing you to face him again. once again he was in control of you, putting this barrier between the two of you by wearing his helmet yet forcing you to face him. he chuckled and for a moment you caught a small glimpse of who might be behind the mask but that was quickly shut down when he asked you another question "you think that i just bring home every girl on the street huh? that there are 'other whores'?"
"yeah i do, you're more than a whore than i am- "
"if you value your life i’d choose those next words carefully y/n"
your name came out of his lips like it was a sin. he wasn't supposed to know that, he wasn't supposed to know you at all.
"you don't know a fucking thing about me, you're just some faceless vigilante who has a thing for every girl he manages to pick on the street"
"i know more about you than you could possibly imagine," he says grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the door. the way he held your wrist wasn't even tight like he wasn't dragging you like he usually would. in other words, he gave you the opportunity to run away but you didn't because this relationship you had with him was addicting and you kind of wanted to see how you'd be punished. "you want to do it on the bed right?"
he's pushing you onto the bed and you know you're in trouble cause how tf did he know? he wasn't a mind reader because if he was he would've let you go home by now. you weren't even shocked that he suggested but more that he knew that that's what you wanted. the two of you rarely even spoke casually and even when you did you didn't expect to listen or pay attention but he did and on his own accord too. the red hood knew just what you wanted from him, but he had to hear it from you if you were going to get it. "but you gotta say it doll"
"say what red?"
"that you're a jealous doll and if you do, i might just fuck you in the bed if it's that special to you" he knew what he wanted from you and you wanted from him. you may hate each other but deep down there was always going to be something else mixed in with those feelings. and one day he'd have to tell you why but that day is very far away. you didn't want to answer him but he called you sweetheart and promised to fuck you in his bed, how could you say no to such a rare offer?
"…m jealous," you said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. the red hood didn't know why you were jealous and he didn't really care why yet it still excited him. and before you knew it, he's fucking you into the bed. the bed creaked as he pushed your body deeper in the bed, holding onto your hips as if his life depended on it. he had you on your tummy, fucking you from behind like his personal fuck today. you don't even remember him taking off your clothes again or if he'd even let you go home tonight but that didn't matter because this was the routine.
fuck. fight. fuck again harder.
this relationship you had with the red hood was wrong on so many levels and it was toxic, you knew that but you were going to stay. yes, you hated how much he reminded you of him. because he was gone and he was never going to come back and you had finally come to terms with that only for the red hood to reopen that wound. as much as you hated the red hood and as toxic as this relationship was, you wanted to be special to him because of the past and maybe that's why you wouldn't leave and he wouldn't even let you if you wanted to.
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greynatomy · 2 months
Text
too late
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alexia putellas x reader
i know nothing about medical stuff except for the ones i’ve watched on grey’s anatomy
happy valentine’s day i guess
request here
———
The echoes of the heated argument lingered in the air as you paced around your living room. The tension between you and Alexia had reached a breaking point and you have no idea what to do next.
Alexia had left you alone in this big house — which isn’t really anything new — to god knows where. The trophies and medals that lined the shelves, displaying the accomplishments of your longtime partner, stares back at you like souvenirs.
Photographs covering the walls, showing the memories of the love she once held for you. Your fingers tracing the edges of the frame, heart heavy with doubt and sadness.
‘Where did I go wrong?’ You asked yourself.
That was almost three months ago. She had apologized and promised to make changes. The first week was a bliss. She’d wake you up with breakfast in bed, leaving breakfast in the kitchen when she had early training. Random dates throughout the week. You were living the dream.
Then, she won the world cup.
Interview after interview. Appearance after appearance. She was away more times than home. You don’t quite remember the last time you’d both slept in the same bed and woken up together.
It was Friday and you were in the kitchen waiting for Alexia to come home from training. You’ve cooked her favorite meal that Eli had taught you to make. You told her you had something to talk to her about so you hoped this meal could lighten the mood a bit.
Thirty minutes had passed so you thought she was just running a bit late.
Then an hour passed.
Another hour after that.
You’ve put away all of the food and prepared a plate for when she gets home to just reheat. Changing into your pajamas, you lounge around in the living room and check your phone. Right when you open up your social media, you were met with videos of your girlfriend and her team at a club.
You try to remember if Alexia had told you if she was going anywhere after practice, but she didn’t.
‘She probably just forgot.’
Hours later, Alexia came home to find you asleep on the couch. She stumbles into the bedroom and knocks out.
You’re at home in bed, staring into nothingness. You couldn’t do anything. At least not the things you used to be able to do. Even breathing became difficult.
Alexia was out so much she never noticed how much you’ve changed, how different you looked. She barely spared you a glance. When you do catch Alexia at home, she’s already asleep. You barely notice though because she’s been sleeping in the spare bedroom.
You slowly walk to the kitchen, steadying yourself against the walls. Grabbing a glass, you start to fill it with water when all of a sudden your vision starts going in and out.
Collapsing to the floor, darkness consumes you.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You ask as Alexia walked through the front door.
“I’m not even fully through the door and you’re already asking me to do things?”
“It won’t take long. It’s just something I have to tell—”
“Ay dios mío! I’m hungover and I just want to sleep. Talk to me tomorrow.”
Alexia walks away to the spare bedroom, knocking out instantly.
Alexia is at Mapi and Ingrid’s place with the rest of the team for team bonding. Alexia had an arm around one of Mapi’s friends that she invited over, the girl practically in her lap.
“Hey, Ale! Where’s the missus? Didn’t want to come today?” Mapi questions taking a seat next to Ingrid.
“Ooh, yeah! I miss Y/N, how is she doing?” Pina asks, the girl saw you as a big sister.
Alexia tenses, not knowing why. The girl on her shoves her arm off of her, moving to a different seat making Alexia frown in disappointment.
“Uh, she’s just at home probably. I don’t know?” She shrugs.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Mapi asks, eyebrows furrowed. “You were with her yesterday.”
“I was?” Alexia was confused because she definitely wasn’t. She was at some girl’s pla— her eyes widen. “I was! Yeah. She didn’t feel that well so she wanted to stay home. Yeah.”
Mapi and Ingrid share a look but drops the subject.
The team bonding became crazier that it was supposed to be. People were tipsy and Mapi was surprised they haven’t been yelled at by the neighbors yet.
“Alright.” Mapi stands up, catching everyone’s attention. “Me and Ingrid are going to run to the store, grab a couple things cause we’re running low.”
Everyone bid them goodbye, Ingrid following behind her girlfriend.
“We’re not running low on anything.” Ingrid states as Mapi starts driving.
“No, I just needed an excuse.”
“Excuse for what.”
“To check on Y/N.”
“She’s not home though. Told us herself.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to check. And we both know damn well Ale wasn’t with her yesterday.”
Arriving to yours and Alexia’s house, they knock on the door. Not getting a response, they try again, no response.
“Hey, Y/N? Are you home? It’s Mapi and Ingrid.”
After a couple of minutes with no response, Mapi uses the spare key she was given a long time ago. Stepping inside, it was quiet. The place was clean, almost too clean. It didn’t look like someone had lived in the place at all with how clean it looked.
Walking further in, Ingrid looks into the kitchen, finding a glass shattered on the floor. Walking around the kitchen island was a sight she didn’t want to see.
“Oh my god, María!” She immediately lays you on your back, placing two fingers on your neck. “There’s no pulse! Call the ambulance!” She starts slapping your face lightly, hoping to wake you up. “C’mon, Y/N. Open those eyes for me.”
“Here. Move.” Mapi pushes Ingrid away, handing her the phone. “You call for them. Wake up, Y/N. Don’t go yet.” She starts CPR, tears start flowing from her eyes, some dripping onto your face. “C’mon! Just wake up, damn it!”
Mapi doesn’t know how long she’s been doing CPR, but paramedics rush into the house, taking over. Ingrid pulls her into her arms where they break down, missing the looks that the paramedics gave each other.
They drive close behind as the ambulance speeds through the streets of Barcelona. Arriving at the hospital, Ingrid doesn’t bother to turn the car off, rushing to where you were being unloaded.
“What do we got?” Doctors rush out to the ambulance.
The paramedics just give a look to the doctors who immediately understand.
“Time of death…”
“Wait! What do you mean time of death? She-she’s fine right?”
“What’s your relationship to…”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N. What’s your relationship to Y/N?”
“She’s my friend and I need to know what’s happened.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give out any information, but I saw she has a wedding ring on. Can you contact her husband?”
“Wife. She has a wife.”
“Okay, can you contact her wife for us?”
Ingrid is the one to make the call. Mapi watches as they roll you inside the hospital.
“She’s on her way.”
Ten minutes later, Alexia arrives to the hospital, walking to where Ingrid and Mapi were now sitting at the waiting room.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. They won’t tell us but they’ll tell you cause you’re her wife.”
“Y/N Putellas. I-I’m her wife and I need to see her.” Alexia asks, no demands when she goes up to the nurse’s counter.
“Mrs. Putellas. I can take you to her body.”
“Body? What-what do you mean body.”
“Just follow me.”
Walking into the room, a bed is seen in the middle of the room, a white sheet covering it.
“What’s this?”
Alexia walks up to the bed, hand hovering over the white sheet.
“Take your time.”
The nurse carefully pulls the top part of the white sheet to reveal someone — you.
“Oh my god.” Alexia gasps, not expecting to see you in this state. Mapi turns around in Ingrid’s hold, hiding her face in her chest, Ingrid also looking away. “What happened?”
“I can help with that.”
Turning towards the door, a doctor stood just outside.
“May I come in?” Not waiting for a response, he walks right in. He walks towards where your lay, staring at your features. “Mrs. Putellas lived longer than I expected.”
“Okay, can we stop being so criptic and just tell me what’s going on?” Alexia was losing patience. She has no clue what’s happening. She was having a great time and now she sees her wife lying dead right in front of her.
“Y/N Putellas, age twenty-eight, was diagnosed with stage four cancer three months ago. There was nothing that could be done as it was caught very late. All we could have done was make sure she was comfortable.”
“But she refused to be admitted into the hospital to make sure that she was still at home for her wife, no matter how much I protested.” A new voice was heard by the door. Your sister. “Her wife that leaves when she’s still sleeping. Her wife who would rather be out partying than notice how sick she was, fighting for her life. Her wife that doesn’t fucking love her!”
Your sister was now face to face with Alexia, finger stabbing her chest.
“No, no, no.” Alexia mumbles. “That- that’s not true. I love her. I do! Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She tried to.” Your sister stated, voice now void of emotion. “She tried and you brushed her off.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” Mapi spoke up for the first time in a while.
“Because it didn’t feel important anymore after the many times that Alexia brushed it off.”
“She visited us just three days ago. She was fine.”
“She wasn’t. I think she knew she didn’t have much time left, so she had me drive her around so she can say her goodbyes.”
“Alright. Last house.” Your sister stated as she parked the car by the curb.
“Yeah.” You exit the car, slowly making your way to the front door. After knocking on the door, you take a step back. The door opens revealing Mapi.
“Hey, Y/N! What brings you by?”
“Uh, nothing. Is Ingrid here by any chance?”
“Yeah, let me call her. Ingrid!”
Ingrid stands next to Mapi.
“No need to shout. Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”
“Uh, well.” You clear your throat in anxiousness. “I’m gonna go somewhere in a couple of days and just wanted to see you both before I go.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“Just- just to take some time for myself.”
“Well, I hope you have fun wherever it is you’re going.”
You give them a smile. “Thank you.” As they were closing the door, you push it back open, wrapping your arms around Mapi tightly. Your breathing is ragged and you can feel the tears forming in your eyes. “You’re my best friend and you know that I love you right?”
Taken aback, she wraps her arms around you in return. “Yeah, you’re my best friend and I love you too.”
“You too Ingrid.” You now wrap your arms around her. “I’ll miss you both.” You step away, walking back down the driveway, giving them one last smile.
The couple don’t think much about the weird interaction, closing the door as they watched your car drive away.
Mapi and Ingrid broke down even more, now knowing that your goodbye was the goodbye.
“Tried to say goodbye to you too, but you were nowhere to be found.” You sister shrugged, getting tired of speaking to Alexia now.
“Why don’t you look depressed?”
“I’ve got to spend my time with her. I’ve had time to prepare for the inevitable.” Giving them all a face, she moves to stand where you laid. “I’m gonna talk to whoever about the arrangements and stuff, I’ll leave you guys alone.”
Seeing how Alexia was unable to take her eyes off of you, Mapi and Ingrid decide to give her some time, leaving the room and closing the door behind them. Now all along, Alexia hesitantly steps up next to your bed, hand hovering over yours.
In the dimly lit room, her voice shaky as she uttered, “I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know if you can hear me, see me, but I never thought I’d see you like this. I never thought I’d hurt you like this.”
She grasps at your hand, squeezing it to stop the tears from streaming down her face.
“I’m too late. Too late. I never realized how good I had it and I see it now. You are— were the best part of me and I was too blind to see it. I took you for granted and I can’t apologize for it.”
The room remained silent, save for the soft hum of chatter outside. Alexia’s heart pounded, waiting for a response that she would never get. Bending down, she gives your forehead a kiss, letting her lips linger for just a moment.
“I’m sorry and I love you.” She whispered before exiting the room.
Arriving at home, Alexia’s emotions finally hit all at once. She couldn’t step any further away from the front door. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The weight of her emotions become too much and the dam finally broke inside of her. Silent sobs racked her body as the vulnerability she had hidden so well crumbled away.
As the tears cascaded down her cheeks, memories of lost moments and shattered dreams replayed in her mind like a haunting film. Each drop carried the weight of unspoken words and broken promises, a wretched reminder of a love that once felt invincible.
The scars on her heart remained, the permanence of lost loves carved onto it, wondering how to face another day haunted by the ghosts of what could have been.
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iwassupremacy · 2 months
Text
Good Girl
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Sawamura Daichi x f reader
Summary: your whole life all you ever wanted to be was faithful and pure. Saving yourself for marriage to honor God and your Family. You would never give in to any kind of sin. At least that’s what you thought. Until one day you met him. He was so gentle and so loving and so so… dirty. How did you get into this mess?!
Warnings: smut, safe sex, aged up characters, softdom!Daichi, sub!reader, inexperienced!reader, virgin!reader, first time, crisis of faith, blasphemy (kinda), reader has mommy issues, lots of praise, also lots of begging, petnames, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, big dick Daichi, penetration, mentions of multiple orgasms, Daichi’s a consensual king!!
Let me know if I missed anything.
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“Amen”
You left church in your floaty white dress. It was a little too short for your liking, so you felt a little bad all through the service but it was such a hot summer day that you just had to make a little exception.
You thought to yourself that it for sure won’t be a problem since you’ve been so good all your life. As long as your mother didn’t see it would be fine. For her you just never tried hard enough. Never were good enough. But you had God. So who else would you even need to be truly happy, right?
-
“C’mon babyyy, you’re gonna love it! I just know it. The music will be soo good. And if it makes you feel any better I will be driving, so we both won’t be drinking. Even though, I have to say, I think it won’t kill you to have a shot or something and a little fun here and there. I’m sure Jesus will forgive you.” your best friend tried to convince you, once again.
She does this every second Friday of every month since every second Saturday they would play your favorite music at her favorite club.
You never understood why it was so important to her for you to get so close to potentially dinning. She called it fun.
You called it temptation. Alcohol wasn’t really a sin in itself. It was rather what could come from drinking it.
“I’m not seeking anyone’s forgiveness. I don’t want to give God a reason to have to forgive me.” You never once in your life even had to confess.
“Whatever. Please come? I am begging you!”
Most of the time you said no, so it really surprised you that she never gave up.
She was just so persistent.
“Okay I’ll go. Under one condition. You don’t ask me for at least three months.”
Most of the time you said no. Not every time. Maybe one of the reasons why she never stopped asking.
“Deal!”
-
“I am so not wearing this. Not a chance.” You looked at the tiny blue dress your best friend held in her hands. Not only was it way to short but it was also very tight. You had seen it on her before and it was beautiful but just too revealing for the way you were raised.
“C’mon don’t be such a prude! You’d look so hot and… if I can say. Fuckable. Not that you have to fuck but you’d certainly not pay ANYTHING tonight.”
“Stop it. I’m not being a prude, I just have my beliefs and values. So I would like to wear this please. What’s wrong with this?”
She looked down on you raising her eyebrows and sighing. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s cute I guess. Just not for a club. You look like you’re gonna sell me a house or something.”
She probably had a point. You were wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse after all.
“Okay so I have a few tricks up my sleeve that would make you look like you just got of off work and went to the club right after. Sexy but still formal. What do you say?”
You gave in. She had to have her fun every once in a while. You too were so different that most of the time it surprised you she was even friends with you. “Okay let’s do it.”
-
“And??”
“It looks… good. I’m actually surprised. Thank you.”
“I knew you would like it! Ah I am a genius.” she said in a sing sang voice.
You looked at yourself in the mirror. The first three buttons of your blouse were opened which was just enough to expose your collarbones but not your cleavage. Your hair was pinned up messily. Just as if it once was sleek and fell apart because you were at work or generally doing something.
You looked down. Your skirt was at knee length and even though you purposefully picked it it just didn’t fit the vibe.
You sighed. She’s gonna love this you thought.
“Do you have a mini skirt? Or, i don‘t know, a pencil skirt that’s a little shorter than mine? I don’t like the way this looks.“
She let out a little squeak of excitement. „Yes! I have the perfect skirt for you.“
-
Pulling on the black denim skirt the third time in 10 minutes you wondered what you were thinking agreeing to this. Sure you went to the club before but never in anything this revealing. Your thighs were out!
At least it covers my ass for all I know…
“10$ and ID please.” you did as you were told by the security and after getting through you were immediately introduced by the smell of sweat and alcohol, naked bodies and loud music.
“I’m gonna get myself a drink and a hot man to pay. You should do the same! Or should I bring you a coke later on?” She screamed over the sound of hips don’t lie.
“I’ll be fine go and have fun!”
It was kinda always like this which was one of the many reasons why you didn’t understand why she needed you to come with her in the first place.
Of course you danced together and she would never leave without you but the first two hours you were without an exception always alone.
That was the time where she found herself any good looking young man to flirt with and get drunk without paying.
Sometimes she even made out with these men but it rarely happened.
Later she always came back to you very tipsy and you guys danced the night away until your feed hurt.
Of course her understanding of dancing the night away was very different from yours but so far that was never a problem.
You had different lifestyles but deep down the same morals and values which is what was most important.
“Can I?”
Your had quickly turned around and collapsed with the hard chest of a tall man.
Out of reflex he put his hand on your waist which caused you to jump and immediately take two steps back.
„Sorry?“
You stared at him a little too long for your liking. But he was just so gorgeous. Sharp jaw line, short black hair with an undercut, subtle hint of a beard and oh so many muscles.
„I asked you if I you could let me pass. I kinda need to get to the bar my friend is hitting on a random woman. Again.“
You blinked just now finding a way back to reality.
„Yes! Sorry!“
Quickly you took a step aside.
The stranger chuckled. „Don’t worry. It’s not that important. He just can be very- persistent.“
You couldn’t help but take a look at the bar. Only spotting your best friend who already held her first drink of the night in her hand and was sitting dangerously close to a young man with greyish hair.
Tonight there would be a little make out session. You could already tell.
„Who‘s your friend?“ you asked still not looking back at him.
Suddenly he was really close. His hand on your back, right between your shoulders, his head next to yours. You could literally feel this strange man everywhere.
For some reason it didn’t bother you. In your eyes he was still very polite about it.
„See him over there? Right next to the girl in pink.“
Now you looked at him. More shocked than anything else though.
„Gray hair?“
„Yes gray hair. Why‘re you so surprised? He‘s not that old.“ the man laughed
„Ohh yeah I‘m sure of that.“ you let out a child like giggle. „The girl in pink is my best friend. So no need to worry. I bet she hit on him first.“
He let out a loud laugh and looked at you. “Then these two belong together I suppose, hm.” His expression suddenly changed to something way more serious and he said:
“Maybe you and I belong together as well. I believe in fate, do you, sweetheart?” His voice was so deep and his aura so masculine that it made you feel all shy.
-
“And then he said don’t take it the wrong way as if he didn’t just say the most vile thing to my face!” Daichi, you found out that was his name right after the two of you decided to spend the rest of the night together, chuckled. “It’s interesting what you call vile. At least to me it’s rather a statement than an insult.”
You gulped looking at your empty glass. “He called me fuckable. In the presence of my mother and father. It’s disrespectful.”
“It’s true.” You chocked looking at him in disbelief. Did he just call you fuckable?! “Wouldn’t’ve said it in front of your family, of course. But it’s true nonetheless.”
You felt his eyes peering into your soul. Staring you down as if he waited for you to say something. Do something. Instead you stood up. “I need- I’m going to get a new soda. See ya.” And then you left him behind. Feeling his eyes following your every move.
When you came back Daichi was on his phone, seemingly not paying any more thought to what had just happened. Being a gentleman man once again, he put his phone down, the moment he noticed you. Smiling at you in a calming manner. As if he senses your unsure demeanour.
“What is it with you?” He asked.
“What do you mean?” You frowned.
“There’s something about you. Something I can’t explain. You seem so- pure? But not childlike. Mature and confident. But still shy and bashful when talking about sex or alcohol. You’ve surely done those things, right? I mean you must be my age. Everyone has done those things by now.”
You blushed. You fricking blushed. Not once in your life were you ever embarrassed of your inexperience and most definitely not about the reason why. But now. Now you were. Not embarrassed by your religion or its beliefs of course, but by your lack of a response. Instea you started to stutter like a child. He interrupted your little stammer of words.
“You’re a virgin. Aren’t you?” You chocked on your spit. Quickly trying to gain back some semblance of confidence. “I am, yes. I don’t see any shame in that.”
“No, no, you’re right. There isn’t. It just surprises me. What are you waiting for? The one?” He let out a unbelievable loud laugh. As if that was the most ridiculous thought he’d ever thought about.
“Marriage, actually. I am very religious, you know. That’s also why I haven’t been drinking tonight.” He looked at you, eyes wide open. Mouth lightly agape. Now it was you who laughed, even if only quietly.
“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to disrespect you or your beliefs. I- god this is embarrassing. I’m sorry. Really.”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. I know there aren’t many religious people who actually live it all out. Doesn’t bother me of course, everyone should have the right to do as they want. I just chose this way.”
“Did you, though? Or did your family tell you it was the only right way?” He asked suddenly being very close. His hot breath fanning over the side of your face. You gulped.
“They did teach me many things of course. Especially my mother. Like that alcohol is only for special occasions, we only ever drink wine when I’m at church for example. Or that I am to cover myself to a certain level. My body shall only be seen by my future husband. She also taught me sex isn’t for pleasure. It’s an act of love-“ he turned your face towards him with two fingers. Staring at you. “and- and-”
“And?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking.
“And it should be intimately, with my future husband only. To make- a family. A woman shouldn’t-“ his finger carefully touched your lower lip, pulling it down a little. You took a deep breath. Taking his wrist and removing his hand from your face.
“A woman shouldn’t give herself away to just anybody.”
He nodded slowly. Still looking at you intensely. “And I get that. One question though. Did they tell this to the men too? You have a brother, right? You told me so. Does he have to safe himself for marriage? Is he allowed to give himself away whenever he likes or does he have to cover his body and wait for his wife to come along and make love to him intimately to make a family? Answer me and if the answer pleases me I’ll leave you be.”
You sighed. Truthfully you’ve thought about this before. Especially when you were younger and had a little crisis of faith. You’d pushed it down though. This is how it was to be. Him out there and you in church.
“No. He doesn’t. But that doesn’t matter he’s a-“ Daichi interrupted you. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s a man. He gets to fuck whom ever he likes, whenever he likes. No, sweetheart, this doesn’t satisfy me.”
Was he angry? For you? Or for himself?
“You only say this because you want to fuck me. You said it yourself. I’m fuckable.”
“Maybe. But maybe it’s bold of you to assume that and I actually only feel empathy towards you.”
He again placed two fingers on your chin, making you look at him. He leaned in, until his mouth was right next to your ear. He whispered now. “But you’re right. I wanna fuck you. Wanna fuck you real good. Make you feel things you could only dream of feeling. Make you cum as many times as your body can handle. And then tomorrow I wanna take you on a real date. Spoil you rotten and treat you like you deserve. Wanna make you feel like a real woman. Not a little girl in a golden cage. Though I would like to cage you like this.”
He pressed against your body with his until you whimpered and had nowhere to hide. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Hm? You can tell me, no one can hear us. Your mother can’t hear you when you’re with me.”
Your breath sped up, your hands subconsciously grabbing Daichis shoulders, squeezing them. It was all too much. You felt so overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. That never mattered. I never mattered.”
Slowly he moved back, synchronously moving his hand from your chin to your cheek, wiping your tears away. You didn’t even realise that you were crying.
“‘M sorry. It’s just not that easy for me. I know you’re technically right. I just- I’ve been raised this way. I’ve learned I’ll go to hell any other way.”
You started crying even more and he wiped away every single tear, letting you cry in silence until there were no more tears and he kissed your forehead.
“I know, baby. I know.” The petnames made your heart flutter. You’ve never had someone call you anything other than your name. Except for your best friend, but that was different from this.
Speaking of. Daichis head turned from you to your friends, still sitting at the bar, flirting and occasionally making out.
“Tell me, do you think, she’ll go to hell?” His head turned back to you, frowning.
You frowned along with him. “What? No! Of course not. She’s such a kind hearted person with a warm soul who loves and cares for everyone around her. She’s just got different morals than I do. She’d never go to hell. She’s too good for that.”
Daichi smiled. Cute he thought. The way you were talking about her.
“But she’s done all those things. She’s had sex. She drinks. She’s drunk right now! She dresses revealing. Hm? She does all those things. Why don’t you?”
You sighed again, staring to become a headache. Shaking your head you leaned into him, putting your forehead on his chest. You’ve never been so close to a stranger, especially not a man. But there was something about him that made you feel safe. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Daichi put his hand on the back of your head, slowly unpinning your hair and running his fingers through it. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll stop talking about it now. I promise.”
-
For the rest of the night Daichi and you got back to talking about more meaningless stuff, laughed and got to know each other better.
You learned that he used to play volleyball in Highschool and that some of his former teammates are on the national team now and that he knows and meets most of the regularly, but he just continued it as a hobby and is now a policeman.
After the exhausting talk earlier, you decided, one drink would be fine. You needed it.
At first you wanted to go get a glass of wine at which Daichi just laughed. “You won’t get any wine in a place like this, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I know what to get you.”
He came back five minutes later with another beer for himself and a cocktail for you. Sex on the beach. The irony. You shook your head, laughing, but drinking it anyway.
One cocktail quickly turned into two and now you were feeling much better. A little lightheaded, but better.
After a few more hours your best friend and her company, Sugawara, finally decided to grace you with their presence. They were very drunk, but also very happy. Holding hands and giggling at each other. You smiled. It’a been a while since you’ve seen her like this.
“We’ve just realised- you’re our best friends! This guy is Sugawaras best friend and Y/N, you’re my besssst- friend! And you’ve met- and we have too!” Your best friend slurred, hiccuping several times.
Daichi laughed, patting Sugawara on the back. “Nice that you’ve come to realise that as well. Come on.” He took your hand. Your best friend gasped, but you glared at her, so she didn’t say anything. “Let’s get a cap, hm?”
The taxi driver drove to Sugawaras place first, your best friend leaving the car with him without ang explanation. As if they agreed on this long before they came back to you.
Daichi and you looked at each other, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Until the taxi driver looked back at you. “Where to, next?”
The car suddenly got really quiet. “Come with me to my place. We won’t have to do anything except watch a movie and go to sleep. I was serious before. I wanna take you out tomorrow. And I wanna spend the night with you.” Daichi said.
You blushed. “Okay. I’ll come.”
-
Daichi opened the door to his apartment, carefully placing his hand on your back and leading you inside. You felt wobbly. The alcohol had just hit even more. So he made sure to steady you. “You okay?”
“Yea. I’m sorry. Just not used to more than a glass of wine.”
“That’s okay. I feel light headed too. Once we’re sleeping it’ll wear off. I’ll bring you water.”
While he was away, you got rid of your uncomfortable shoes. Staring at him moving in the kitchen. He was so tall and muscular. Fuck. You wanted him so bad.
So when he came back, you didn’t drink his water. Instead you set it aside and stepped closer to him. Until you were so close, you had to look up at him. As if out of instinct his hands landed on your waist.
“Daichi.” You whispered. Putting your hands on his shoulders. He didn’t say anything, instead he pulled you in even closer so that your chest touched his. “Daichi, please.”
“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.” He squeezed your waist and you bit your lips.
“Please take me. I- I want you. Please.” You didn’t know where this sudden urge came from, just a few hours ago, you didn’t even so much as touch yourself and now you were begging a stranger to fuck you. but he stirred something inside you and it made you feel so good. So special.
“That’s the alcohol talking, Y/N. You will regret this in the morning.” Still he didn’t step back as if he wait for you to convince him. So you did.
“I might. But Daichi, you’ve been so understanding and kind. I- I don’t think I want to do this with anyone but you. You can lead me through this and if I regret it in the morning, I feel you’re the only man who wouldn’t take it personal and calm me down. Please. I want this. I want you. I- I want you to do all the stuff you said earlier. Make me feel like a real woman. Please.”
He grunted. He fucking grunted. “Shit okay, baby. I’ll do it. I’ll make you feel like so desirable and so so good.”
And just like that he slammed his lips against yours. Quickly moving them. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, urging you to open your mouth. But you backed away. Never having kissed anyone like this, it was hard for you to keep up. “I don’t-“
“It’s okay, let me take the lead. Do what I do. I am not judging you. You’re doing so good. Were so brave begging me to fuck you, hm? Let me do it then, I’ll be careful. You’re okay?” You nodded. “No, talk to me, baby. I wanna hear you.”
“I- Yes. Yes, I’m okay. Please kiss me again.”
Daichi chuckled. “Such a good girl, fuck.”
And then he kissed you again. And again. And again. Until all you could think about was him and his hands that lifted you up and put you on the table right next to your glass of water.
His tongue forced its way in your mouth and circled yours. Your breath hitched when his hands opened all the buttons of your blouse and squeezed your breast. From there they wandered to the back and opened your bra as well.
“This okay?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. You whimpered again. “Yes, please.” He moved back. First removing your blouse and then, very sensually, your bra. “You keep begging me, but you’re not telling me what you want me to do.”
He talked to you but he didn’t look you in the eyes. Instead he shamelessly stared at your breasts. It made you feel tingly and your thighs subconsciously pressed together. Resisting the urge to cover yourself and look away you said. “I want you to touch me. Please.”
One of his hands cupped your cheek, his thumb caressing your lips. The other one traced your body occasionally pinching one of your nipples while now staring you in the eyes. You tried to bite your lip to not make a sound, but you couldn’t because of his thumb so instead you whined.
“I am touching you, aren’t I? You need to be more specific, sweetheart. Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere.”
“Everywhere? Like- here?” His hand moved up to your collarbone. “Or here?” He brushed over your shoulder, over your arm, past your elbow and took your hand. “Or maybe” he removed his second hand from your mouth and took your free hand with it, harshly pressing both your hands on the surface of the table with his. “you want me to touch you with my mouth?”
He lowered himself a little bit, never breaking eye contact and then kissed right between your breasts. “You want that, sweetheart?”
You squirmed under his gaze. You would really like to grab his hair and just yank him where you needed him most. “Yes! Yes please, Daichi, you’re being mean!”
“You have no idea how mean I can actually be, princess.” And then he finally took one of your buds in his mouth. Sucking and biting at it ever so gently.
“Ohh God” you let your head fall back and closed your eyes, biting your lip and pushing your chest up in his face. “please, please, please. More. I need more.”
“God’s not here, baby. Just me. I am the one making you feel like this. You feel good?” He licked over your bud one last time and then switches sides. Doing what he did before.
You shuddered. “Yes. Yes I- I feel good. You’re making me feel so- good, Daichi. Please. I need more of y- you.” Your breath quickened, your thighs presses together and your head started to feel dizzy.
“You’re so good, Y/N. Pleading and begging me so nicely. You’re all desperate just from a little nipple play. You’re perfect.”
The way he said your name made you feel so much. Horny. Desired. Happy. Just everything.
And then suddenly it all stopped. He let go of your hands and of your breast and just looked at you. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
His constant praise made you blush. “Thank you.”
“Such a good girl. Come on.” He took your hands again, this time more carefully, leading you of the table. “I’m not taking your virginity here. Let’s move this to my bed, hm?”
On the way to his bedroom, Daichi got rid of his shirt and jeans, leaving you too stunned to say anything. Everything about him was hot. You didn’t know where to look. And so far you only saw his backside.
When you wanted to do the same and get rid of your skirt, he somehow noticed and, without turning around, stopped you. “Don’t. I’ll be doing that myself.” Shit.
Finally in his room Daichi stopped before his bed and turned around. His chest was even better than his back. So pretty and muscular. But you didn’t dare to look further than that.
“Come here.” He said, so you did. Stepping closer to him only in your skirt and panties underneath. Chest open and bear, but he not once stopped looking right in your eyes. Not even when he started to slowly get on his knees.
That’s when it hit you. Suddenly you took a big step backwards. Away from him. Feeling embarrassed. Without saying anything Daichi came back up. He was obviously confused, but not really surprised. Probably only wondering what exactly made you reconsider. So he asked.
“What is it, sweetheart? You have to tell me otherwise I can’t help you.”
“I am not- I didn’t- shave. I never had a reason to do it so far. I sometimes trim in the summer but I- it’s been a while. I’m sorry. I don’t-“ you started rambling in a panic. And even though Daichi found it cute, he didn’t want you to panic. So he interrupted you.
“You think I care? Because I don’t. If you feel ashamed about it and want to stop than that’s okay and valid. But don’t think you have to because of me. I want to eat you out either way. If you let me.”
Your entire face heated up and you looked away. He was so straightforward about this stuff. “Okay.”
“Okay, what? Look at me when you say it, sweetheart. And be more specific.” So you did.
“Okay, we can keep going. I want to continue. Please.”
“Such a good and polite girl. You wanna keep going? You gonna let me eat that pussy, baby? You want that? Hm?”
“Yes. Please.”
Without saying another word he again got on his knees carefully peeling your skirt off. Leaving you in your bright blue panties. He chuckled. They almost looked like boxer shorts. “They’re more comfortable…” you muttered.
“Don’t apologise. I think it’s cute.”
He grabbed your thighs and slowly spread them apart, kissing their insides, sucking and leaving marks. And then finally, you moaned. Not whined. Not whimpered. Moaned.
“Fuck. You sound so good baby. You like it when I kiss you here? Down where no one can see? Mark you up just for you and me to know. Hm?”
One of your hands buried itself in his messy hair, the other found its place on his shoulder, squeezing. You didn’t dare look at him, so you closed your eyes, sighed and nodded. Subconsciously pressing your lower body in his face.
He let this one slide. You were clearly overwhelmed. So he just hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down to your feet. You cringed at the feeling of how sticky they were from your wetness.
Daichi cursed. “Fuck.” The carpet most definitely matched the drape and you weren’t lying, you didn’t shave or trim in some time, but he’d seen more bush before. He liked how your little clit still peaked through. God, he wanted to lick it so bad. But first he had to get you to bed.
Without a warning he lifted you up and practically threw you onto his bed. Crawling on top of you. And even though you tried not to stare and be polite, you still got a good look of his body when he did so. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?! And you so far only saw its outline.
Daichi kissed his way down your body. This time paying a lot less attention to your breasts and quickly getting where he wanted to be.
He spread your legs as wide as he can, finally getting a good look at your glistening cunt which was equally spread. “So fucking pretty. Shit.”
Then he flattened out his tongue and took a long swipe from your asshole to your clit. “Oh fuuuck! Daichi!” Your hand again found its way to his hair. Grabbing it, slightly tucking. The other one landed on your own head, covering your eyes.
You would’ve never imagined it to be so good.
And Daichi really had no mercy. Licking. Sucking. Even biting. His tongue switched up between circling your clit and fucking your hole.
Your moans and choked sounds were like music to his ears. They were addictive and he needed more. So he went harder, faster. More reckless. Your body squirmed, back arched and legs shaking. You needed more too. He could tell.
“Gonna fuck you with my fingers, yes, princess?”
“Yes! Ahh. Anything you want. Just do it. Please.”
At first his fingertips just brushed your hole. Teasing you and gathering your juice, spreading it all over your cunt. Everything was so messy.
Then he finally put one inside. Tauntingly slow. It was easy and painless, giving how wet you were at this point.
“Move!” You rolled your hips trying to get some friction. It felt as if you had lost all control over your body.
“Are you leading now? Are you giving me orders? That’s how it is now?” He teased, slowly starting to remove his finger.
“No! No, no, no. Please, I‘m sorry. I‘m sorry!“ you tried to follow his finger with your hips but Daichi stopped you with his free hand. “Behave, princess. Only then I‘ll give you what you want.“
Your hips automatically came to a halt. “‘M sorry.“
“It‘s okay, I know your just desperate.“ he finally got back to work, putting his finger in all the way, slowly moving it in and out and his tongue found your clit once again. You moaned and threw your head back, pressing it into the pillow beneath you. He felt you harshly tuck at his hair, trying to yank his head closer which made him moan as well.
The vibrations of his moaning went through your entire body and you looked down at him, meeting his stare. The intensity of it it and the way it didn‘t falter made you whimper. That‘s when you saw it. He was grinding his hips against the mattress. “Daichi-“
His head lifted and you could see your wetness being spread all around his mouth. Your face heated up and you looked away. Daichi chuckled at that and wiped his face with his free hand. “What is it? What do you need, baby?“
“Need you- need you to fuck me.“ Your breath hitched when his finger stopped. “You‘re not ready yet, sweetheart. Need to prep you more.“
“No. I can take it, I promise. Please, I need you.“ You pulled him up so he was face to face with you and placed both your hands on his cheeks. “Please? I promise, I‘ll tell you if I feel any discomfort.“
He sighed and nodded. He just couldn’t deny you. That‘s when your hands went down to his underwear and started to remove it. “You gotta tell me or I‘ll punish you, you hear me?“
Your hands came to a halt and your breath hitched, but you nodded. “Good girl.“
Without looking down you took him in your hand. It felt weird. Heavy and big, with a slight curve and a big vein on the side. You wondered how it would feel inside you without a barrier but you wouldn’t dare risk that. Daichi neither. He groaned at the feeling of you subconsciously stroking him. “There‘re condoms in the upper drawer. Take one of them.“ So you opened the drawer and mindlessly took the first on out you could get a hold of.
You wanted to give it to him but he stopped you. “That one has taste, princess. We don‘t need that today.“
You gulped. You wanted to. But you were to shy and horny to voice your needs. So you just put it back and took a different one, this time taking a look in the drawer, so you wouldn‘t make the same mistake again and gave it to him. “Very good. You‘re being so good for me.“
All this praise made you feel sp light headed and proud. Growing up you‘d never received much of it since your mother was so strict with you. “Thank you.“
He smiled and stroked your cheek and hair before putting on the condom. You watched him, blushing at the immense size. “This will be a little painful at first because you didn‘t let me prep you properly. I‘ll go slow and careful but I need you to tell me if it‘s too much, do you understand?“
“Yes. I understand.“
“Good girl. Are you comfortable?“ You nodded but quickly muttered a quiet yes when you saw his disapproving face. He took your hands in his and pressed them onto the mattress, kissing you.
You soon melted and relaxed in the kiss which was much slower and more sensual than the one on the table. Not breaking the kiss Daichi lined himself up at your entrance and started to gently force his way inside you. You winced, accidentally biting his lip which only made him moan.
He was right, it was painful. But it wasn‘t unpleasant, just weird. He urged himself further and you started to feel really full, but when you broke the kiss and looked down, you realised that he was only half wat inside you. “Oh.“
“Want me to stop? I will.“ he said through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. It was clear to you how much he had to hold back. “No, it’s okay. Please keep going“
He nodded and moaned when he continued. “You‘re so fucking tight, shit.“ The way you made him feel good, made you feel so good as well and despite the pain you moaned along with him. You wanted him to feel good.
He stopped once he was all inside you. His head fell on your shoulder and he breathed heavily. “You good, baby?“
You brushed through his hair. He was probably like this because you couldn’t stop gushing and clenching around him. “I‘m good just- give me a second please.“ you whined. “Of course. Take all the time you need.“
It took you a good while to adjust but Daichi waited patiently. To distract himself he started kissing you everywhere. On your lips, your ear, your forehead and then your neck where he even star to bite und suck, probably leaving marks you had to cover in the morning.
To distract you, his hand wandered south and circled your clit, trying to relax you. It worked. You whimpered and whined and quickly after you began to unclench and roll your hips against his hand, grinding on his dick and moaning. “You can move now.”
Daichi lifted his head and looked at you in awe. Your eyes were closed, but no squeezed shut, your mouth was just slightly opened and your nose scrunched, he doubted you even realized.
You were so breathtakingly beautiful and you were lying in his bed, naked and needy. And you were giving yourself to him, a complete stranger and he felt so lucky.
His train of thoughts were interrupted by an impatient groan and your hips rolling against him. He gasped. Today was not the day to keep such a beauty waiting for her pleasure, so he gently grabbed your hips and started to pull out and repeatedly thrust into your wet walls.
First really slow and gentle. Until your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer. His Name left your lips like a chant, begging him to go faster. Harder.
“Daichi- please. Need it. Hngg- more more more.”
So he did. His hips started to rhythmically snap forward, trying to find that special spot and when he did, your loud moan was like music to his ears. He sped up his pace, keeping the hard force behind every thrust.
To keep you in place his hands started to grip you harder and he was sure there would be marks in the morning. But none of this seemed to bother you. Quite the opposite. You seemed to like it a little harder. Noted.
Your back arched from his bed and your hands gripped the mattress so hard, your knuckles lost color. All the while letting out the most desperate little moans.
They weren’t too loud or pornographic and he wanted to drown in you. You were so perfect and real. Not holding back but also not forcing anything to boost his ego. You were just enjoying yourself.
His head lowered again and he one of your sensitive nipple in his mouth again. This time a little harder. Harshly sucking and biting until you fisted his hair with your hands and tears rolled down your cheeks.
Only then did he remove himself and lick one last time so soothe the pain, just to switch sides and repeat his actions. You threw your head from one side to the other from time to time, tucking and pushing his. Your eyes screwed shut once again.
But he never faltered and when he could suddenly feel your legs start to shake and tighten around his hips, he knew you were about to finish. His lips removed themselves from your breast and instead he kissed you. Rough and harsh. Biting your lips and forcing his tongue down your throat.
His sudden aggressiveness startled but didn’t scare you. But you were also so overwhelmed with everything and when his hand wandered from your hip to your clit and rubbed it hard and fast with his fingers, you completely lost it.
Your mouth opened up, which left Daichi heavily breathing in your mouth, formed to a silent scream and all that came out of you were pathetic fast breaths.
Your glossy eyes were blown wide and looked at him with so much emotion, he almost came on the spot. But when they teared up even more and rolled back and you started to buck up into him because of the overstimulation, he bit on your lip and decided to hold back.
Instead he fucked you through it. His hips and fingers keeping a steady pace until you whimpered and tried to push him away.
“No more. No more.” You desperately pleaded.
So he pulled out, removed the condom and took matters into his own hand. Literally.
You curiously watched him jerk his hand and blushed. Was it weird that you wanted to do it for him? Touch him like he touched you and return the favor?
But instead of doin that you just opted with letting your hands wander on his back and to his biceps. Kissing his cheek and gathering your confidence to bite his ear and suck a mark below it. All the while pinching one of his nipples with shaky fingers.
Daichi moaned and went even faster. “Shit, baby. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Then he kissed your cheek and spilled his seed all over your stomach. Which oddly enough turned you on even more and made you whine.
You stayed like this for a minute or two and just looked each other in the eyes, breathing heavily. Until Daichi rolled of you two the side and you were both left staring at the ceiling.
He was the first to turn on his side, staring at you worried. With his clean hand he brushed your hair out of your face and made you look at him as well. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You blinked a few times, furrowing your brows. “I don’t know. I enjoyed it really much. I just feel- weird? Is that offensive to you?”
“Not at all. Come here.” He pulled you in, kissing your temple and holding you tight to his chest. None of you cared about his sticky hand or your dirty stomach.
His clean hand comped through your hair and he whispered sweet nothings right into your ear. Praising and complimenting you.
Later the two of you got out of bed, or more Daichi dragged your complaining figure and threw it over his shoulder. “You need to pee, Y/N. I mean it. And then we’ll have to shower or take a bath.”
You just groaned. Luckily he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face from having your ass almost entirely in his face. “I don’t even feel the need to pee!”
“Then you will drink water and force yourself to do it still. Don’t make me punish you, baby. You’re not ready for that.”
His continues hints on being rougher and more dominant with you, made you blush and even horny, so that you had to resist the need to kick your feet and giggle like a schoolgirl.
You didn’t even notice how you clenched your thighs together, which made only made Daichi smirk. He would definitely go harder on you next time. Besides, he promised you to make you cum as many times as your body could handle and he was not one to break a promise.
PLEASE this was so much fun to write!! I hope you had just as much fun reading it! Let me know what you think since this is my first time publishing anything I’ve written and if you would like me to turn this into a series, let me know please!! I am seriously considering doing it.
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lilacsbeeswax · 3 months
Note
can i make a request for remus lupin where him and reader are dating but she doesnt know that hes a werewolf, and so she thinks hes cheating. she then asks the boys (sirius and james) and they dont tell her and so she’s properly convinced hes cheating, then the day before the full moon she confronts him and it causes a huge argument and then the next day (fullmoon) she goes for a midnight stroll to clear her head and remus attacks her. can u make the whole thing really angsty but fluffy and happy ending at the end? if u need any more info or anything just dm me! thank you!!
Cheater
-Remus Lupin x Reader-
-Angst-
MASTERLIST
(Thank you for the request 💕)
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Over the 6 glorious months I’ve dated Remus Lupin we’ve had so many amazing times. Flowers, dates, promises, sweet nothings, everything anyone could ever ask for… Except for that one giant gaping hole in my understanding of my boyfriend, his disappearances.
Every month for a few days he just up and disappears. There is no other way to describe it. He doesn’t come to classes, he avoids me, and when I go to look for him his friends get all nervous and sweaty.
At first, I was just concerned, especially since he has issues with chronic pain and is always ill, that was until he began dodging all of my questions. He threw, “it’s nothing you have to worry about sweetheart”s and, “I promise everything’s alright, no worries” at me anytime I asked and quickly changed the subject.
Later, I started talking to my friends about it and I had to face the horrible truth that Remus must be cheating on me. It all added up the distance, the avoidance, and the obvious guilt that he held over the matter. But, before you can destroy and wasp nest you have to make sure the wasps are dead and gone.
——-
I sat in the Gryffindor common room awaiting the infamous Marauders’ loud arrival. I fidgeted with a quill someone had left on the side table. God, was I nervous. I had to calculate the perfect time and day to ambush the boys. A day were Remus wasn’t trailing close behind them.
My thinking was abruptly stopped as Sirius and James burst into the common room laughing about some prank they inevitably pulled on some poor first year. I uncrossed my legs slowly when I saw at least James had seen me and took a step toward them, trying my hardest to keep me composure.
“Why hello there boys.” I greeted, my voice slightly wavering.
“Hey beautiful,” Sirius replied as he swaggered over and plopped himself into one of the old crimson chairs. “What’s up?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong love?” James said, following Sirius’ lead and sitting on the loveseat. He propped his legs up on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him prompting me to sit down.
I hesitated for a moment before responding: “It’s about Remus. I have some… worries and I need for you to be totally honest. I know he’s your friend but…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.
“What do you mean?” James asked, he moved his feet off the table and leaned in closer ready to listen. Sirius was almost scowling as he blinked at me.
“Don’t tell him, but I think he’s-“ I cleared my throat, “cheating on me.”
James sat there shell shocked as Sirius blurted out, “Cheating on you?! Remus? You’re having a laugh!”
James side-eyed him and grabbed one of my hands. He gently said, “Y/n, there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation that isn’t him cheating. Remus loves you so much, I don’t think he could cheat if he tried.”
“Please I can barely imagine him being able to get it up without you!” Sirius laughed.
“Sirius!” James scolded. “Not the time!”
“If he’s not cheating, then what is he doing?” I asked sternly, pulling my hands away from James. Sirius’ and James’ faces dropped.
“We- we can’t tell you that,” Sirius’ regular playful facade had fully disappeared as he stuttered. “It’s not our place.”
“It’s not your place?” I exclaimed, standing up. Heat flushed throughout my body and my stomach turned. “Why will no one tell me a single goddamn thing?”
“Y/n, just go talk to Remus, if he’s ready he’ll tell you.” James said, reaching a hand out to me. “Just calm down, it’s all okay I promise.”
“No. Absolutely not. You don’t think I’ve asked Remus a million times? Do you know how often I’ve had to hear ‘everything’s okay’ and ‘no need to worry’ with no fucking explanation? I’m over it. The lying, the sneaking around. And having such a sweet guy lie to my face just to cover up his infidelity! I’m done.”
“Just listen,” James began but I don’t let him finish.
“And if you tell Remus about any of this I will kick your asses. If this is happening I want it to be on own terms.” As I finished my speech, I stormed out of the common room and tears began to fall when the adrenaline ran dry.
——-
James and Sirius sat in that horrible silence to shock. Finally, Sirius broke it with a sigh, “What the fuck are we gonna do?”
James sullenly replied, “Well, there’s one thing we definitely can’t do and that’s tell Remus. He’s struggling enough as it is this full moon and tomorrow it’s gonna be worse. I guess we just have to pray that Y/n waits until it’s over to say anything.”
——-
It took a full night of crying and a few shots of fire whiskey from Marlene for me to go back to the anger stage and set up a plan. I was going to get into the boys’ dorm (by bribing Lily to steal James’ key) and confront Remus there. Setting up the plan was much easier than going through with it though.
I stood in front of dorm number 7 for a few five minutes passing the brass key between my hands, resting its weight in my palms. Today, was the day I was destroying the golden layer that had settled over our relationship and I was scared to death.
I slowly slotted the key in place and turned it gently. The click sound made my ears ring.
I opened the door to see Remus sleeping in his bed. He was horrifically pale and the bags under his eyes were more like extra large suitcases. ‘His mystery illness must be acting up again.’ I had thought. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. Even in sleep he looked to be in pain. He looked almost like a corpse as I shook his shoulder attempting to wake him up. His head moved and his corpse like appearance was impossibly more evident.
“Remus?” I said, my voice echoed across the completely silent room. His eyes snapped open and he jumped like he had just been shot.
His voice was raspy and filled with sleep. “Hello darling, what are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“The door.” I said, ignoring his first question. It was hard to stay angry when I was looking right at him. Remus was horrifyingly beautiful from his honey brown hair, his matching doe eyes, his long eyelashes, his high cheekbones, the list goes on.
“Whoa, are you alright?” He asked, reaching his hand out toward me. I ignored his offer and straightened my posture.
“No. I know that this probably isn’t the right time, but I through with this little game of yours Remus.”
“What game? Sit down darling, you look like you might faint.”
“You know perfectly well what I mean, Remus Lupin. You’re a dirty cheater and a liar. You’ve been playing me for half a year and been sleeping with other people. I’m done.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m cheating on you?” He looked angry, probably not expecting to be caught.
“Not suggesting, telling. I know that you’re cheating on me.”
“That’s absolutely ludicrous!” He exclaimed, sitting up in his bed with cough. “Where would you even get an idea like that?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little disappearances. The sneaking around, the lies, everything. I had trusted you so much, obviously that was a mistake.” I took a step toward him. My anger grew as I watched his face grow impossibly paler.
“My disappearances?” He whispered to himself. “Listen this is a big misunderstanding. I’m not cheating on you.”
“Then what do you do when you disappear at night? Why do you always dodge my questions? And why are you such a dick head about it?”
“I’m a…” he stuttered and paused, looking as though he was going to vomit, “I can’t- I can’t tell you, okay?”
“Why can’t you just fucking admit it?” I yelled, tears beginning to fall against my will. “Even if there is something else going on, it’s not helping you to not tell me! You promised to always be honest with me, now is the time, Lupin!”
“Why can’t you just take my answer? I can’t tell you or you’ll hate me more than you already do!” His voice gained volume as mine did.
“That’s looking pretty fucking impossible right now.” I screamed at him.
“So, that’s it? You make your bold assumptions and then just walk away?”
“I’m not the one walking away, you walked away a while ago. Who is it? Who has captivated you enough to do this to me?”
“No one! I haven’t cheated on you, no one could ever replace you! I love you!” He yelled as I began to walk to the door opening it slightly.
“I don’t believe that for one second because if you loved me, you would tell me the truth!” At this I slipped through the door, slamming it shut behind me.
——-
After the argument, time stopped to a screeching halt. By the time, I had felt even slightly decent enough to move out of my bed it had already been a full day. To clear my head, I decided to go on a midnight stroll.
The crisp autumn breeze stretched over me like a hug. It felt so nice to fill my lungs with its slight cold air. The crickets chirped playing a little song for the blanket of stars that stretched over the sky. You could always see so many stars at Hogwarts. They seemed brighter here than back at home. Remus had never liked the night sky, I never quite understood why.
I walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, not listening for any dangers I could come across. I could hear a wolf’s howl in the not so far distance but I paid it no mind. Either way, I had thought a wolf was the least of my troubles in the forest anyways.
I continued walking, not worried about anything until I heard a loud growl behind me. I whipped around to see a large shaggy brown wolf looking at me as if I was it’s next meal. I gulped down a scream and started to slowly back away. Screw me for never listening to my brother ramble about what he learned in Boy Scouts.
“Nice puppy.” I whispered, barely finding humor in what I said.
The wolf pounced at me knocking me onto the cold dirt. It scratched and bit at me as I tried to cover myself. ‘This is not how I die’ I repeated to myself over and over again. I could feel the warm blood dripping down my arm but I felt no pain. I saw nothing, I felt nothing, and all I heard was growls and scrambling before everything went black.
——-
“Is she gonna be okay, Madam Pomfrey?” A deep voice asked.
“Yes, I do believe so. She’ll be scarred, mentally and emotionally, but she’ll fine.” Responded Madam Pomfrey.
I groaned. My whole body felt like it was put through a meat grinder. I opened my eyes, almost surprised that I could see. “What happened?” I rasped, attempting to move.
“My god girl! Don’t try to move, you’ll just hurt yourself further.” Madam Pomfrey rushed over and put her hand on my forehead before rushing into her storeroom. “Just stay and heal.”
James stepped into my vision and stood next to the bed. He grabbed my hand and held it gently. “Hey love.”
I groaned, uncomfortable in my current predicament. “Hi James. Why are you here?”
“Why am I here? Are you serious Y/n? You almost died!” He exclaimed.
My eyes widened, “I did?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Not really. What happened?”
“This is gonna be a lot to swallow, but it’s necessary, for you to understand what happened.” James said.
He began going into a very long explanation about how Remus is a werewolf and they’re illegal animagus and Remus is the one who attacked me because werewolves will attack anyone they come across. Once he had finished I just sat there, totally and completely dumbfounded.
“Is this a prank?” I finally ask.
Madam Promfrey walks back in handing me a cup of some sort of green liquid. She responded for James. “I’m afraid not.”
“Oh my god.” I whispered. “I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not Y/n. How were you to know?” James said.
“I yelled at him and accused him of awful things while he was going through… that.”
“You didn’t know, it’s not your fault.”
“Oh my god and Remus will kill himself over this. He’ll think this is all his fault. Where is he?” I panicked, desperately wanting to get out of bed and run to him.
“He’s asleep in our dorm recovering, Sirius is taking care of him, but he doesn’t know yet.”
“We can’t tell him. He’ll beat himself to a pulp over it. He was scared enough of telling me imagine…” I trailed off.
“There’s no way not to tell him, look at yourself. You’ll have scars for the rest of your life.”
I looked over myself and the magically healed cuts and scratches. Some were large enough to cause massive patches of scar tissue. One bigger than my hand on my thigh. They reminded me of Remus, not because he was the one who caused them but because they look identical to the ones that cover his entire body. “Can I be the one to tell him?” I asked.
“Absolutely, that’s kind of what Sirius and I were hoping for.”
“Not until you’re mostly healed.” Madam Pomfrey added from her desk. “Go back to sleep and when you wake up in the morning, I’ll let you go.”
James squeezed my hand before letting go. “You heard the woman. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See ya, James.” I mumbled as he left.
——-
“And one more step.” James said, arm wrapped firmly around my bandaged abdomen.
“You don’t have to hold me, James.” I said while limping slightly up the stair.
“Yeah, sure. You were out for two days and had major blood loss, but that was nothing!” He said sarcastically, bringing me to the door. The very one I had slammed, while accusing Remus of not loving me.
He opened it slowly to reveal Remus siting in a chair by the large window reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Remus looked so much more alive now than before. The paleness had subsided and his dark circles had almost completely disappeared. He looked up at us and his eyes widened.
“Y/n? What happened? Are you okay?” He exclaimed, practically jumping up from his chair and rushing to me. “Sit down.”
He and James guided me to sit on Sirius’ bed.
“Where’d Sirius run off to?” James asked.
“He wanted to get breakfast, but that doesn’t matter.” He rushed his sentence. Sitting on the bed opposite me and looking over me. “What happened?”
“I know Remus.”
“You know what?” He asked. James slid out the door quickly, barely being noticed by Remus or I.
I felt a strong rush of confidence. “That you’re a werewolf.”
He paled and blinked at me. “Where is this going?”
“I went on a midnight walk during the full moon. It was an accident, what happened.”
“I did this to you?” He stuttered. I reached over and placed a hand on his knee.
“You don’t have control over what happens during the full moon.”
“I hurt you.” It was a statement that seemed to rattle his very soul.
“I’m okay, Remus.”
“No, it’s not. I ruined our relationship purely because I was afraid of this and now look. You hate me and I’ve scarred you for life.”
“I could never ever hate you, Remus-“ he cut me off.
“Then, why did you say that when you left? ‘If you loved me, you’d tell me the truth’” Pain shot through me as he recounted my harsh words.
“You could’ve told me. I love you all the same. Werewolf or not.” I stated.
“Really?” He asked, dragging his gaze from the floor up to me. He looked like a scared puppy.
“Always.” I said, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss.
MASTERLIST
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starlightsearches · 1 year
Note
Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!
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Jealousy, Jealousy
📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!
thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!
Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖
Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄
You're fuming in the front seat.
Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.
"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."
They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.
Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.
"To you."
"What?"
"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."
Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.
You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.
But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.
If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.
That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.
Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.
Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.
He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.
. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.
He wishes you'd smile at him now.
"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"
"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.
You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.
"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”
Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.
Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.
“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”
“It’s different," you snap back quickly.
Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.
You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"
He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."
It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.
He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.
"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"
You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.
He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.
"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"
You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."
Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.
Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.
"Stupid how?" he asks.
You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."
It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.
"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.
You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?
Is Valerie as delusional as he is?
"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"
Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.
"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."
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It wasn't a no.
He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.
It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.
Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.
You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.
Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.
You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.
There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.
Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.
But it's you.
You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.
"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."
He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.
"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.
He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."
Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.
And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.
Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.
“So you blew both of us off, then?”
He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.
“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.
You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.
“Why are you here, Eddie?”
“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.
The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.
“What’re you sorry for?”
What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.
“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”
Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.
For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.
You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.
But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.
And he knows he can't take that.
"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"
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But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.
That's a fucking record.
He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.
Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.
Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.
And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.
"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"
Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.
Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.
But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.
He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.
And Eddie goes back to staring.
This time, though, you're staring back.
He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.
And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.
Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.
"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"
Eddie just shrugs.
"Probably something stupid."
You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.
You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.
It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.
He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.
Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.
"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"
You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."
It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.
Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.
"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"
You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.
"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."
He hums. "Stuff?"
You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.
But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.
Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"
"About what, Eds?"
"Why you're so mad at me . . ."
You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.
And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.
"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."
You don't get to finish your sentence.
Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!
Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.
So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.
"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.
"Hey—"
There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.
Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.
The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.
He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.
"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."
There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.
It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.
You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.
Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.
Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.
"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"
"Fuck off."
Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.
There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.
It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.
"I'm down here."
You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.
You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.
He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.
"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."
"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."
The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.
Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"
"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."
He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."
You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.
"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."
"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.
"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."
In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.
He was definitely missing out.
There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.
"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."
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writingpastmybedtime · 3 months
Text
Mine
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Summary: Bucky and Reader have to pretend to be husband and wife on a mission, even though they do not get along at all. Your classic enemies-to-lovers trope.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: none, although Bucky is hot as always.
A/N: Let me know, if you want a pt 2 to this ;)
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You should have known better, really. Wearing a short black, curve-hugging, dress wasn’t going to go unnoticed by the Super Soldier whose gaze you wished to avoid.
Bucky and you had been tedious to each other for most of the time spent at the compound. It was common knowledge for the team that you two weren’t supposed to be on the same mission together. Unless they wished to witness your back-to-back nagging. Which, they did not.
That changed, however, when Natasha fell sick and you had to replace her on a mission pretending to be the wife of a Russian mobster, Ivan Sarkovich aka James Buchanan Barnes undercover. 
Needless to say, you did not go on this mission without letting out a fight. Tony shut you up quite quickly, reminding you of the innocent lives that would be harmed if you did not fall through with this mission. There was no one else to take Natasha’s place, but you. You sighed, before begrudgingly agreeing.  
So here you were, at a lavish Balkan hotel somewhere in Eastern Europe with the most exhausting and tiresome being to ever exist - Bucky Barnes. The bane of your existence. The man, with the most gorgeous blue eyes, the body of a Greek God on steroids, and hands you wish would do the dirtiest things to you. 
No one knew you had these kinds of thoughts and feelings towards the ex-Winter Soldier, however, it wasn't hard to hide them whenever he acted like a total ass towards you. You had put up a façade to everyone, not letting out your true feelings. Not when he couldn’t even be in the same room as you without snickering a rude remark.
Had he ever not acted indifferent towards you, perhaps you would not be in this predicament you were in right now.
Fortunately enough, Bucky had already gone downstairs to play poker with the people who you were investigating. 
Ruslan Nikolaevich was a Russian man, behind a drug cartel that had been shipping new kinds of supplements in New York, mainly appealing to teens and young adults. They sold it under the premise of protein, however, it was nothing similar of the sort, except for the look of it. 
You and Bucky had to gain information about the next possible drop-off - the location, the recipient, and the lot. You were supposed to join your dear husband downstairs in five minutes, playing the ever-clingy happy, and satisfied wife.
Smoothing down your dress and taking a last-minute look in the mirror, you deemed yourself good to go. Perhaps your dress was a bit much, but without a second thought, you left the safety of your hotel room. 
Walking towards the men sitting at the poker table, you held your chin high and only looked at Bucky. He was wearing an all-black suit, the one that you thought fit him the best. The one that you wished he would wear when he’d do the most dirty things to you. 
Bucky looked up from the table, as if hearing your thoughts, and his eyes fell on yours. A smirk graced his lips as you neared and he patted his lap, an indication for you to take a seat. 
It was totally normal and mostly expected of the Russian mobsters to have their wives and eye candies sitting on their lap - a way to show off. So, as expected of you, you took a seat. Right on Bucky’s deliciously firm thighs. 
“I thought you wouldn’t come, with how long you took,” Bucky nuzzled into your neck, making a shiver go down your spine. You smirked, placing a seductive hand on his jaw, playing with the slight stubble there. 
“What kind of a wife would I be, if I did not show up to support my perfect husband?” You raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled darkly, before placing his lips on your temple and focusing his gaze back on the game. 
“I wish my Maria would still look at me the same way your девушка looks at you,” a man with a thick Russian accent said, looking over at you with a longing gaze that made Bucky place his vibranium arm over your waist as if to pull you closer to him and protect against the Russians that eyed you in a way that made his blood boil. 
Bucky chuckled, to not let on, that he was disturbed by Maksim’s looks. 
“If you’re willing, you could also share your сладостью with the others,” Maksim was eyeing you up and down, and you were now second-guessing your dress choice.
“Gentlemen,” Bucky chuckled darkly, before throwing his cards on the table. “I’m afraid this sweet thing is not for share, for I have intended her all for myself tonight.” 
The men at the table groaned but still looked at you with lust-filled eyes, a certain jealousy towards Bucky Barnes, no, Ivan Sarkovich. 
“I think it’s time we took our leave, my девушка seems to be getting tired of our manly chit-chat and boyish games.” With a nudge to your waist, you feigned a believable yawn and clung to Bucky, playing the ever-attaching wife. Bucky wished good night to the gentlemen at the table, before guiding you towards an elevator.
When the elevator doors closed and you could finally take a breath, letting go of the fake act, Bucky stepped in front of you with a hard look. 
“Are you out of your mind to wear a dress like this in front of them?” 
You looked down at your dress, picking invisible lint off of it. 
“Do you have any idea, what kind of a position you put me in? The things they whispered,” he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, as if to calm himself. You did not understand the Russian language the way he did. Which also meant that you had no idea what kind of vulgar things they had said about you. 
You saw his hands shake on the railing on the wall, that he’d gripped, his knuckles turning white on his right hand with how hard he was gripping it. 
“Fuck, doll-” he looked at you then, his baby blue eyes a shade darker, before he suddenly gripped your jaw and made you look up at him. “You only belong to-” He was cut off by the elevator doors opening and he nonchalantly let go of you, walking off to your shared hotel suit.
You followed him, still ashamed and, confusingly enough, a little bit turned on by his demeanor. He’d never acted this way before. And what was he almost about to say?
As you shut the door of the suit, you immediately felt his breath on your neck. A gentle, but rough hand moved strands of your hair off your shoulder, before chuckling deeply. 
Bucky placed his forehead in the crook of your neck, before letting out a deep breath. His hands then found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to himself. 
“Y/N, do you have any idea, what you do to me?” You felt his lips move on your skin, which made you shudder and the most obscene thoughts filled your head. He whispered your name again.
“If I had known any better, I’d think you got jealous when poor old Maksim made that suggestive comment,” you finally whispered, your forehead resting on the door. Bucky pressed himself closer to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and the brown wooden suite.
“Only I can make comments like that about you. No one else.” He kissed the side of your neck, your head automatically falling on his shoulder. It was as if you had no control over your body; you only moved on his accord.
“You’re mine.”
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arcanesea · 1 month
Text
confession
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PAIRING: choi seungcheol x reader GENRE: idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, angst if you squint WC: 864 WARNING: mentions of alcohol, cursing
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" your roommate peeking from your door, all dressed up and ready for a party. You glance at them before murmuring a low no.
Seungcheol would be there and you're afraid there will be a bloodbath.
You heard them shuffling around the room, ready to leave when they suddenly appeared at your door again.
"Just leave!" you ordered with a laugh. Escorting them to the front door, bidding goodbye. You close the door afterward, sighing. Lately, your relationship with Seungcheol has gone downhill really fast. You're not even dating, not even close. No one even knows both of you used to talk on a daily basis until a week ago.
One thing you know is that he would be there at the party and girls would be dying to talk to him like usual. Except this time he might indulge them. To say that you're jealous would be weird because why would you?
You decided to sleep early, trying to shut the image of Seungcheol and the urge to text him.
It was already past midnight when you were awakened by the sound outside your dorm. You tied your hair, walking towards the front door. Half annoyed, half sleepy.
"Did you forget your key?" you mumble, pulling the door open.
"Thank God!" your roommate shouts. "Cheol said you might already be asleep."
"I was..." you said dryly. Your eyes trained on the guy who held up your half-drunk roommate. No longer sleepy, you're suddenly boiling with rage.
"I'll get going then, I was just escorting them home," Seungcheol said, looking at you. You nod your head, grabbing your roommate by the arm. His hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. It has been weeks since you saw him. Even last week arguments were done through texts with no resolution. You wouldn't care much about who's with him, but it hurts twice more when it's your roommates. Not that you can say anything about that and that's just frustrating.
Your roommate held your arms, tugging on his shirt. You tried to detach them from Seungcheol to no extent because they kept asking him to come in for a moment. You had no choice but to let him in, closing the door behind him afterward. Your roommate, as annoying as they are, immediately walks to the couch and closes their eyes. Mumbling something about a headache.
You curse under your breath before turning to face him.
"I think you can leave now," you told him. "Thank you for driving them back."
"Great, so we're gonna act like nothing happened?" Seungcheol asks.
"Aren't you the one who stopped replying to my text?" you quip back, venom lacing your words. You're watching as his expression changes, jaw clenched.
"I asked you to meet but I guess your reputation matters most to you and you'd rather break this up than be seen going out with me, right?" his words hurt, but you find yourself turning to see your roommate's sleeping state. Wondering if they were listening to a word he said. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"Listen, I don't care if you want to go out with anyone, just not them" you point at your roommate. "You're just going to break their heart."
Like he did yours. But that was mostly your fault for involving even a little bit of feelings in this relationship. You were fine being best friends for the last 5 years. Coming from the same neighborhood, going abroad to the same school. Then acting as if you didn't know each other for the sake of keeping each other as a comfort person.
"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Seungcheol smirks. You really want to smack him at this point, finding it painfully hard not to.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss back. He took one step closer to you, both hands on his back. Your heart leaps, when did he become so mature? Did you really not care if he went out with just anyone?
"I don't want to go out with just anyone. I thought I was making it obvious about what I wanted," he said, chuckling lightly when your eyes widened. "You."
"That's a shit confession," you replied.
"At least I have the courage to do so?!" Seungcheol complained. "Unlike someone I know who just ghosted despite maybe having mutual feelings."
"I did not," you lied.
"What makes you think I'm talking about you?" he goes back to annoy you. "I'll prepare a better confession with long paragraphs if you at least admit it."
"I really hate you, you know that, right?" you replied, trying not to smile. "I stand by my word before, that's a shit confession, but I don't think I can word it better."
"Fucking finally!" You jump at the sudden roar of your roommate. They sat up straight on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seungcheol's ears turned red by the unexpected setup. Both of you become an easy target tonight, blinded by the need to come back to each other to actually notice anything out of the ordinary. "Jeonghan and Joshua owe me 20 bucks each."
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a/n. the pride of a leo is unbearable
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quin-ns · 3 months
Text
Let’s Ditch (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Word count: 1.4K
Summary: JJ convinces you to ditch school with him and go out on the boat, only for the two of you to get stranded
Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, kissing, just some overall sweetness
A/N: first fic of the year 🫶 wanted to start off on a nice note with some simple fluff
obx masterlist
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“Please, please, please—”
“Oh my god, JJ, fine!” you agreed, finally breaking.
He’d spent the last few minutes doing everything in his power to persuade you to ditch the rest of school and go out on the HMS Pogue with him.
After nothing else worked (asking nicely, bargaining, bribing), he resorted to begging. Relentlessly.
And, just as JJ had hoped, he wore you down before you could go to your next class.
“You’re the best!” He smiled, beaming with victory.
Sneaking out of the school was easier than it should’ve been. The two of you simply walked off campus and found where JJ parked his bike.
He put on his sunglasses and grinned at you. You rolled your eyes and bit back a smile. You were already having fun, you always did with JJ.
You climbed on, sitting behind JJ. You locked your arms around his waist when he told you to hold on tight. He revved the engine then took off well over the speed limit, leaving the school behind. He was going so fast he had to hold onto his hat with each turn, and the wind drowned out your laughter.
It was a short ride to the Chateau, and soon enough the two of you were hopping off. JJ left his bike in the yard and jogged to catch up to you, swinging an arm over your shoulders. Your face heated up as he hurried you both down the dock.
You lifted your hand to shield the sun from your eyes, watching JJ get the boat in the water.
“Does John B know we’re here?” you wondered, other hand falling to your hip.
“C’mon, you know he doesn’t mind!” JJ called back, hopping on to the boat. “Let’s go!”
That wasn’t exactly a “yes”, but you still stepped on, taking JJ’s hand to do so.
“Such a gentleman,” you commented lightly.
He responded, “Only for you.”
JJ went to the wheel, driving the two of you away from the dock and out into the marshes.
The further you got, the more relieved you grew that you were out of that boring school. You did your best to take it seriously because it was supposed to be important, but you missed summer break already.
“Can I drive?” you asked after a while, forgetting the story you’d been in the middle of telling JJ.
“Of course,” JJ said dramatically. He stepped back from the wheel, making way for you. He took off his sunglasses and shoved them onto your face. “You might want these.”
You laughed, adjusting them.
“Thank you very much.”
JJ grinned. “No problem, Captain.”
“Captain?” You hummed. “I like the sound of that.”
That was your last comment before you went full throttle. JJ held on tight, turning his red cap backwards to keep it from flying off his head. You had to grip the wheel tight to stay standing, both of you whooping and hollering at the speed.
Except, you didn’t get far. In a matter of minutes the boat was sputtering to a stop. That quickly killed the yells and grins of adrenaline.
“So, um, we’re out of gas,” the blonde declared when he returned from checking the tank.
You crossed your arms and leaned back against the wheel, knowing you weren’t going anywhere.
“Well, how much was in it when you first checked?”
JJ looked guilty. The fuel gauge was busted and John B had to get it fixed, so recently you’ve been having to check manually.
“Um, about that… I might have not checked.”
“You didn’t check?”
“Did you see me check?”
“So, let’s recap,” you started, holding your hands out. “You convince me to go on the boat and then you forget to check if it had any gas in it?”
“That pretty much covers it, yeah,” JJ replied to your sass with an equal amount.
“A+ planning,” you quipped.
“Wow, my first A+,” he joked, and you couldn’t smother the grin that started to form. “I’m sorry about the gas—we can call Pope, see if he can come bring us some.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Although there’s no way Pope is leaving class early to rescue us.”
As it would turn out, you were right. You got lucky when you called him because he was between classes, so he actually answered. However, he said he could come get you but he wasn’t going to leave school early. That was after he called JJ a bad influence on you.
JJ couldn’t argue with that.
It was close to the end of the school day, so you wouldn’t have to wait too long for him, but it would still be over an hour.
You ended up sitting on the deck facing one another, trying to keep low to avoid the sun. You went back and forth talking about anything and everything and you had to admit, it was better than being in class. Then again, being with JJ was one of your favorite things, so it wasn’t a fair competition.
“No way you think C.H.U.D. is the best horror movie,” you argued when he brought it up.
“I’m pretending I didn’t hear you say that,” JJ shot back. “Why do you think I bring it up all the time?”
“Okay but that doesn’t make it a masterpiece just ‘cause you talk about it. That’s like saying being a mortician is the best job ever just because Pope always talks about it.”
JJ’s smile grew and you gave him a look.
“What?” you wondered, noticing the expression.
“This is nice,” JJ said, causing you to laugh.
“Arguing about movies is nice?”
“Well, yeah. It’s been so long since we’ve hung out,” JJ said with a shrug. Clearly it had been on his mind. You opened your mouth to counter, but he continued. “I mean, I see you everyday because of school and stuff, but I feel we haven’t really hung out just us in a while.”
You frowned a little. “It’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just been a busy month…”
“I know, I don’t blame you,” JJ assured. “I just miss you.” He hesitated before continuing. “A lot. And I was gonna tell you all that today, but I didn’t imagine it being because we were stuck out here getting sunburned.”
You gave him a curious look. “You didn’t have to bring me out here just to tell me you wanted to hang out more.”
JJ snorted. “It wasn’t just that,” he revealed. “I wanted it to be just us and not have an excuse to back out…”
“Back out? You’re not gonna push me overboard, are you?” you teased, and you and JJ both laughed. “Because I can swim, y’know.”
“Not my plan at all, but nice to know that’s where your mind goes.”
You relaxed with the taunting as you asked, “So what is it, then?”
JJ fiddled with his hands, eyes flicking away from yours for a minute. You watched him carefully, wondering where he was going with this.
Before he could continue, you heard a boat approaching. You got to your feet and so did JJ. The two of you spotted Heyward’s boat with Pope on board heading towards you.
“Hey there!” you called, waving to Pope. He waved back. You looked at JJ and saw his expression shift. “Wait, what were you gonna tell me?” He bit his lip. “Come on, don’t back out. You said you weren’t going to, so what is it?”
“Right, okay,” he said, getting a bit antsy. “What I was gonna ask is… will you go out with me?”
Your brows shot up.
“Like a date?”
JJ smiled sheepishly. “Exactly like a date.”
“Okay,” you answered, a smile overtaking your features. You didn’t even hesitate.
“Okay…” he repeated, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “Okay—yeah. Awesome!”
The two of you chuckled at his excitement, and you stepped closer to him.
A silence fell over the two of you and you knew you were thinking the same thing.
JJ leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway. Your lips fit together perfectly, but it didn’t last long.
“Hey guys!” Pope called, pulling the boat up next to the HMS Pogue. You and JJ turned to look up at him, seeing the amused face of your friend and a gas can in his hand. “Am I interrupting something or do you still need rescuing?”
You and JJ exchanged a look before JJ replied.
“Both.”
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aphroditessaturn · 10 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 || 𝐌. 𝐎.
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pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader (is a spider-woman, tho nothing specific)
summary || you have anger issues and it’s no secret to anyone in the Spider-Society, Miguel might as well be the only who can tame you. His methods are, quite effective…
warning || smut! p in vi, oral (female [fingering] and male receiving) throat fucking, nipple play, spanking if you squint
note || I had to get him out of my system and I'm not even done, this piece is for my anger issues and I need a Miguel to fuck them out of me. please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas
legend || mi luciérnaga = my firefly; abre la boca = open your mouth; buena niña = good girl; mocosa = brat; puta = whore; dios mío = my god; niña traviesa = naughty girl
BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST
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“I do not have anger issues, who does he think he is?” you asked to no one in particular while walking around Miguel. He let out a sigh, pressing his fingertips against temples.
“He’s like what? 15, yeah you don’t say that to someone twice your age,” you continued, your blood pressure building up with every second you thought about the incident.
Miguel tried to be calm, but the last mission worked him up and scratched on his nerves. The mission went fairly well, except for you going ballistic and the newcomer – Miles – commenting on it. Oh, and the target almost escaping because of Miles which lead to all of this.
“Can’t fucking believe this, he was the reason the mission almost failed, and he dares to say I have anger issues!” the last part you nearly screamed. You never paused, always moving around.
You couldn’t stay calm, couldn’t calm down. Every vein beneath your skin run hot, some just waiting to explode.
Suddenly both of you heard someone coming near Miguel’s platform, said Spider turned around with a glare. He knew exactly who came and what would happen if you saw him, but now there was no preventing it.
You walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at Miles, “came to apologize?” you asked and crossed your arms over your chest.
Miles looked confused, no he wasn’t here to apologize, and he would make that clear, “you threatened me, screamed at me because I let the anomaly almost escape. You overreacted,” he stated.
Your eyes squinted together, expression hardening. “You can’t do a thing right and accuse me of having anger issues? I do not have fucking anger issues!”
Just as you were about lounge at Miles, arms wrapped around your waist, “enough,” Miguel’s deep voice rang through your ears. Normally his voice would smooth you, but you were already too gone.
Your man however ignored that and pushed you behind him.
“Miles, we will talk about this later. You made a mistake -,” “what, you’re saying she didn’t go bonkers?” Miles didn’t want to accept that what you did was right.
“If you’d let me finish, you would know that she will get her fair share of consequences,” Miguel snapped at the young boy, while it made a small part of Miles feel better it only angered you more.
“Are you serious? You let that little shit get away with saying I’m in the wrong? He lost the target and we had to-,” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Miles, leave,” Miguel’s voice was dark and left no room for back talk, he sounded scary to be honest.
Miles immediately left, knowing it was better for now and he needed to get away from you.
“We weren’t finished yet,” you barked at Miguel who didn’t bat an eye. You stalked up to him, trying to intimidate him – unsuccessfully. “Yes, we were and it’s time you calm down, mocosa,” he whispered and grabbed your waist.
You were manhandled onto his desk, wrists held together in his right hand. With his left hand he ripped down your suit, “you asshole! Can’t you-,” “yeah mocosa, stop your whining,” Miguel rolled his eyes.
Without warning he pushed pointer and middle finger into your drenched cunt, you gasped. Realising with just a few words he had you wet and in your rage you didn’t even notice.
He curled his fingers against your walls, your head fell back. Right hand letting go of your wrists and sliding down to your neck.
Miguel moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing along your carotid artery.
A shudder run down your spine when you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. You adored the feeling of his teeth piercing your skin as it made you feel a kind of pleasure nothing else brought you.
Miguel had easily picked up on that all those years ago and now used it taunt you, “niña traviesa,” he commented with a small smirk.
His fingers kept a slow pace, it was torture and Miguel knew that. “Miguel,” you snapped, a plead for more however the man above you wasn’t having it. “You think you can be a mocosa and I’ll just give you what you want?”
“I wasn’t a brat! It’s not my fault your spider people can’t do their job and then-,” “dios mío,” again Miguel cut you off, picking up the pace.
Hitting that spongy spot inside you which pulled a loud moan from your lips. As his fingers worked their magic on brining you closer to your high, Miguel run his tongue along your earlobe and gently nibbled on your skin. With your hands free you threaded them through his beautiful hair
You closed your eyes, the feeling just too wonderful and for a moment you lost yourself but quickly Miguel reminded you that this was a punishment.
“Look. At. Me,” his voice deep, commanding. His hand was suddenly in your hair, gripping it tight as he pulled your head back. It was a way to underline his words.
You looked at him with pleading eyes, god you loved this side of him. Miguel would make you take whatever he gave you if you could or not – you were surprised with how much you could actually take.
“I’ve barley did anything and you’re already putty in my hands,” he teased, slowing his pace down again. You wanted to scoff at his words.
He didn’t do ‘barley anything’, he almost bit into your sensitive neck, rubbed his fingertips over you bundle of nerves and hit your g-spot with every thrust. Miguel very well knew that all those little things would send your body into overdrive.
“You know exactly what you did!” you spit at him and drew a low chuckle from him, it amused him how you kept pushing, “are you that much of a puta for me that you can’t shut up?” “Guess if you want me to shut up then you have to fuck my-,” “fine.” Miguel retrieved his fingers from your cunt pulling a whine from you.
Both hands gripped your middle, manhandling you down to your knees. He gripped your chin with his thumb and pointer finger tilting your head up to look deep into your eyes.
Then his suit slowly started to dissolve, starting by his neck, and revealing his naked, toned chest, his broad shoulders, and muscled arms. The light of the screens dipped Miguel into a dangerous red which made him look like the devil in person.
Now he was completely naked, his mushroom formed tip hitting his lower abdomen. “Abre la boca,” when you didn’t instantly comply Miguel slapped your cheek, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, “now,” he added.
His thumb moved between your lips and pressed onto your tongue to make you kept your mouth open, “you’re going to be a buena niña and suck my cock.”
You caved and let your mouth hang open, tongue already awaiting him. At first, he gently placed his tip on your tongue, giving you a chance to taste his salty precum. Then without warning he thrusted his cock full on into your mouth.
You gagged as it hit the back of your throat, Miguel looked down on you. There was still a part of him that didn’t fit inside your mouth, but it was his mission to make sure it did.
Miguel began fucking your face, abusing your throat with his harsh thrusts. You looked up at him with teary eyes, his head was tipped back in pleasure and a deep groan fell from his lips. You clenched your thighs together, you were a whore for Miguel as it was already but something that always got you were his moans.
Miguel was vocal, so fucking vocal. For one his mouth never stopped running, but then there were his moans. They were deep, hoarse, and loud.
However, your throat couldn’t keep up with his pace any longer, though you loved the feeling of getting used by him too much. Salvia dripped from the corner of your mouth, his cock twitched in your mouth which was his cue to pull away.
You whimpered pathetically, of course Miguel catched up on that and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “Such a cock slut already, just for me,” he stroked over your hair before kneeling down your level and hosting up into his arms. Your back hit his desk, legs dangling over the edge.
“What hermosa? No, smart comment?” Miguel teased with a smirk, you couldn’t say a word. Your throat hurt, no tone would come from your lips.
Miguel dipped his head down, teeth closing around your nipple while his right hand grabbed your breast. Massaging it as his tongue lapped on your nipple, causing you to whimper again. In response your man slapped your breast making you moan, “fuck,” your voice barely audible, throaty thanks to Miguel.
Switching sides he sucked on your right nipple, your hand coming up to grab his hair and pulling on his roots. “Ay, dios mío,” Miguel moaned, loudly.
He pinched your neglected nipple causing you to arch your back and a line of goosebumps to adorn your skin.
Suddenly you felt his tip stroke over your drenched entrance, distracted by his work on your breasts you hadn’t noticed immediately.
“Miguel,” you whispered and in the next moment he had plunged his huge cock into your cunt. A pained yet pleasurable moan left your body, loud and hoarse.
His cock was big, and thick, god even after all this years you needed time to adjust to his size. You could feel those veins, how he stretched you out. “Don’t fret mi luciérnaga, I’m not fully inside you yet,” Miguel whispered against your lips before kissing you.
You loved his kisses, they were full of fire and passion. Miguel kissed you like he owned you – he did, and it was one of your favourite things. His lips were so soft and warm, sliding over yours before his teeth bit into your bottom lip.
“After all those years and you’re still so tight,” he gushed and slowly pushed deeper inside you, lifting his head to look at you with a smirk.
“Feel that mi luciérnaga? Feel me deep inside your belly,” Miguel pressed his hand onto your stomach, feeling his tip bulge out, “am I too big for you?” he taunted.
You didn’t know what possesed you, but something did, “you wish,” you snapped. Miguel looked dumbfounded for a second before his expression turned into a glare, “guess my mocosa is back.”
He pulled out all the way before harshly pushing back in with his full length, cunt pulsing around him as he pounded into you without mercy. You couldn’t catch a break, he constantly hit your sensitive spot, “you like it, huh, like me fucking you like the puta you are,” aside from his cock pushing you into an abyss of pleasure, Miguel’s voice made you shiver.
It also didn’t help that he groaned uncontrollably, growling when you tightened around him. You were close, so fucking close and he knew it.
Miguel wrapped your legs tight around his waist to keep you close. His thrusts became harsher, and his thumb pressed down on your bundle of nerves, drawing hard circles.
His pace was animalistic, “look at you, mi luciérnaga already cock drunk. That’s what you need, someone to fuck all the anger out of you, fuck you dumb.” You couldn’t say anything, only unidentified words came past your lips.
Your high was near, it came and washed over you like a fresh shower, “mhm, come for me, buena niña,” Miguel only strengthened it.
“I’m not finished yet,” he stated and manhandled you, so your back was turned to him.
All the while still having his cock in your needy cunt and fucking you through your orgasm. His hands gripped your ass as he rutted into you, “Miguel,” you whined, holding onto his desk, “come on where’s your fire mi luciérnaga?” he slapped your ass.
You had nothing in you anymore, your head was completely empty. As much as would’ve wanted, you couldn’t. You just laid there, enjoying the pleasure, and taking everything Miguel gave you.
“Maldito infierno,” he cursed as he reached his orgasm, for a moment he stilled inside you and painted your velvet walls with his cum. Filling you up to the brim, not pulling out.
He slid his hand around you and pulled you against his broad chest, right hand wrapping around your throat like a necklace.
“How you feeling mi luciérnaga,” he whispered, softly stroking your sides while you closed your eyes.
“’m fine, Miggy,” you mused laying your head on his shoulders. Everything felt at peace, you were calm and had no issues with anything.
You could just lean against Miguel and he would take of you. He scooped you up and slowly pulled out to make sure he didn't hurt you, his cum leaking out of your cunt. A sight Miguel could never forget – one he didn't want to forget.
Miguel went to your universe, laying you into your bed and cleaning you up. Meanwhile you dazed around, until he joined you in bed.
"I don't have anger issues," you muttered into him as you cuddled up against him.
He covered you two with the blanket, "no, you don't," he agreed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You were fast asleep, tired and spend while Miguel admired your beauty.
You have anger issues, always will but Miguel knew an affective method to control them. Add to that he loved your fire, needed it.
And Miles did fuck up.
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please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas
BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 4 months
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false god - m. murdock
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a/n: sorry if this is bad i did my best because i have been thinking about him a lot warnings: cursing, smut, cunninglus (reader recieving), exhibition (kind of?) matt has an oral fixation, praise, premarital activites, reader is deaf and uses hearing aids but it's only mentioned once, if i missed any let me know! word count: 1.8k summary: the night before your wedding, you and matt are starving. you want to order room service, matt wants to eat out. pairing: matt x fem!reader now playing: false god - taylor swift "but we might just get away with it/religion's in your lips/even if it's a false god/we'd still worship/we might just get away with it/the altar is my hips"
When the devil finally proposed to you, he did it amongst flames and darkness.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as dramatic as that.
Matt had proposed to you in the empty office of Nelson, Murdock & Page where you had met, with the lights turned down and candles lighting up the air around you. It was romantic, just as the two of you deserved.
Planning took a long time, too, with flowers, dresses and food taking over your every thought.
But now, all of that was done. There was nothing to be worried about anymore, as you and Matt specifically requested that if anything were to go wrong, Foggy and Karen would take care of it the best they could and not alarm the two of you unless someone was either dying or threatening to kill you.
So, in less than twenty-four hours, you would be Mrs. Matt Murdock, doomed to a life of lawyer jargon and patching up wounds, with no way out. The thought made you giddy.
The ceremony was going to be held at the church, but the pair of you had moved in with each other a long time ago, so it felt weird to try and avoid each other the night before the wedding and the morning in your own apartment. So, you and your future husband, as well as your small wedding party, had booked a few rooms in a hotel near the church.
You both had your respective ‘last hurrah’ a few weeks prior, so there was really nothing to do after the rehearsal dinner other than head to your room and relax, waiting for your alarm to go off to start getting ready.
You had decided to take it easy, enjoying a glass of wine after what you deemed to be an ‘everything’ shower, taking all the necessary precautions to feel like your best self on your wedding day. You had even bought yourself a nice silk pajama set, white, just like your rehearsal dress, and just like your wedding dress.
Your wedding dress hung freshly steamed in the closet of the hotel room, your shoes placed neatly beneath it. Your jewelry and accessories were laid out neatly on the dresser across from the bed. Your wedding ring sat in a box, inscribed with your husband’s name on it. He sat next to it, your name in braille on the inside of the ring.
In the morning, your mom, your sister, Karen, Marci and the woman who had been doing your hair and makeup for every major life event would be there, coffee in Karen’s hands, as your soon to be husband and his best friend got ready together, reminiscing on how they had landed themselves here.
Everything was perfectly set in place. Your job now was to just get married, and really, how hard could that be?
So, with your wine, you tuck yourself into bed with full intentions of getting a good night’s rest in your silky bridal pajamas.
Except, your job was almost done. There were no more seating arrangements to make, no one else to chase after for an RSVP, no more fittings, and no more menus to create to adhere to you and your soon to be husband’s particular tastes.
So, for the first time in weeks, you weren’t stressed at all.. Which left you with one conclusion:
You missed Matt.
You had seen him a few hours ago for the rehearsal dinner, but you were suddenly left with the conclusion that you were aching for the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.
Before you realized what you were doing, you were calling him.
On the second ring, he answered.
“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”
“Hi. Everything’s great.”
A pause.
“Okay, do you want to talk about anything..?”
“There’s nothing else to do, Matty!” You’re out of bed and pacing now. “I’m stress free, and I can’t even be with you!”
You hear his laugh from the other side of the line, and it makes your heart flutter.
“We have the rest of our lives to spend the night together, baby.” He must have had a drink or two like you, because ‘baby’ is his tipsy nickname for you.
“I know, but I miss you now. And I’m hungry.” You tell him.
“Do you want to come over, order room service, and make out?”  He grins. “You just have to leave before midnight, it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding.”
You’re putting on your slippers when you pause and consider this for a minute.
“Matt, You’re blind.”
“And you’re deaf, don’t forget your hearing aids, baby.”
“How drunk are you right now? How would I be talking to you if I didn’t have them in right now?” You question.
A pause.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” His voice is softer now, and before you know it, you’re out the door and walking down the hallway.
He opens the door before you can knock, because of all the men in New York, you’ve landed the one with heightened abilities.
“Hi.” You grin, but he doesn’t respond. He simply leans down and picks you up bridal style, much to your objection. He kicks the door behind him closed before he carries you to the bed. He lays you down on it, finding himself on top of you.
“Silk?” He asks gently, his hand on your side.
“Mhm. Bridal pajamas.” You giggle. He just grins and leans in to kiss you. He pulls away from the kiss only to move to your jaw, and then down your neck. “Matthew, I want to order room service, I’m starved!”
His hands find their way underneath your top, his fingers beginning to creep up your skin.
“Me too. Been planning so much, I’ve hardly had the chance to be with you.. To touch you like this.”
You hum softly, but then your stomach rumbles loudly. So, when He lands on his knees in front of you and pulls you forward so that his head is between your thighs, he takes a second to lean over, searching for the room service menu before handing it to you, as well as the phone.
“What looks good, baby?” He asks, leaning his cheek against your thigh. Your pajama bottoms are shorts, so his warm cheek is a sharp contrast to your skin.
“What are you up to, Murdock?” You ask suspiciously, sitting up to look at the menu.
“Nothing, what kind of desserts do they have on there?”
What a weird, secretive man your future husband is.
“Uh, they have a crème brulee, apple pie, angel cake with chocolate ganache frosting—”
“Oo, can you order me one of those?” he asks, starting to kiss your thighs. Your face flushes.
“Sure, But I’m also gonna order the chocolate covered strawberries and the brownie al a mode—”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He hums, “You just have to order it for me.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you go to dial the number for room service.
The woman on the other end of the phone is very nice.
As she begins to talk, Matt listens in, but mainly focuses on pulling down your shorts and panties, kissing along your thighs.
Your free hand goes to his hair to try and keep him from eating you out while you order room service, but he is a persistent man.
His lips meet your clit first, and he listens as you gasp, trying to finish the order that he had so kindly requested you to make. His tongue meets your folds, finally satiating the hunger he had for weeks leading up to this.
Your fingers grip his hair, only making him quicken his pace.
“Can I also get uhm—” You can barely think straight. “The uh, Fuck—” Matt’s nose rubs against your clit, his tongue moving at a devastating pace.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” The woman on the other line asks.
“Yeah, Sorry, stubbed my toe on the dresser,” You explain. Matt grins from his place between your thighs. His tongue drags up and down, as if he’s licking every inch of you, like maybe he’ll never be able to taste you again. “The angel cake, can we get two slices of that?” You ask, your fiancé’s pace increasing.
“Yeah, of course. Anything else?”
Matt takes only a moment to stop his assault on your pussy, to add, “The strawberries, baby,” before continuing to lap his tongue against your wet heat.
“The chocolate covered strawberries, and that’s it,” You finish.
“Alright, we have the brownie, the strawberries, and the cake..” She finishes. “What room?”
“Two twenty six,” You tell her. You roll your hips up to try and get more from Matt, but one hand leaves his grip on your thigh to hold your hips down. He knows you’re close, he always knows.
“Oh, are you the bride for tomorrow?” She asks.
This god damn wedding.
“Mhm,” You manage out, biting your lip to try and stop yourself from moaning.
“Congratulations!” She chirps, “Consider the room service complimentary, then,” She gifts.
“Thank you, very much.” You hum.
Matt stops his assault again.
“Ask her how long,” and then he’s back to tasting you, relentlessly.
“How long?” You ask, breathlessly.
“Should only be about ten, fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, thank you,” You say again, your grip on Matt’s hair tightening as you edge closer to your orgasm.
“Of course! Have a very happy wedding day!” And with that, she hangs up, and you toss the phone in the general direction of the machine.
“I’m gonna kill you,” You tell Matt, who stops quickly.
“Do you want to kill me, or do you want me to make you cum?” He asks. He looks really pretty between your thighs.
“Please, Matty..” You give in, and he smirks.
“That’s my good girl.” And he continues to suck your clit, edging you closer and closer. His pace quickens, somehow even more. You let out a soft moan that sounds like absolute heaven to Matt’s ears.
Your thighs are starting to shake because you’re so damn close. Matt keeps his licks consistent, waiting for your release. Your fingers tug on his hair, as you moan, finally hitting your release. He lets you ride out your high, licking all your cum up, making sure to suck up every last drop.
“So sweet and so good for me..” he hums, planting a soft kiss to your clit before pulling away, licking his lips.
“You’re such a dick..” You giggle.
He laughs, kissing your thigh.
“Did so well for me, Sweetheart..” He hums, leaning up to give you a soft kiss. When he pulls away, he slips your shorts back on, and looks like he has a new idea. “Ten to fifteen minutes, huh?”
“Mhm..” You’re just looking at him with such adoration.
“We could probably put that pretty mouth to good use while we wait, right?”
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inmyloveworld · 5 months
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in a world of boys (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~1.5k
synposis: dating was hard. tiptoeing the line between casual and official always had you stumbling. and bradley, in spite of how good he made you feel, was no exception.
warnings: insecurity, allusions to anxiety (spiraling thoughts, disassociating, just a LOT of self-doubt and questioning)
a/n: i have cute fluff ideas i swear! but writing from experience always just gets the words flowing. here's to hoping we all find someone as emotionally mature and empathetic as bradley bradshaw.
bonus note: i looped slut by taylor swift writing a majority of this oops
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The words had always come easy to you. Every conversation was effortless, no matter what the context. Quips and jokes flowed through you as the blood flowed through your veins. It never took careful thought or pondering. But pondering was consuming you as your fingers hovered over the letters at the bottom of your screen.
Bradley and you had been seeing each other for nearly two months. Late-night rides in his Bronco and one overnight at your apartment had filled the weeks since you had first bumped into him at the Hard Deck. His charm and humor lit up your days. His heart and warmth soothed you in moments of weakness. And for once, you had opened yourself to all of it; to all of him.
There was no limit to the dishonesty and complacency you'd been shown in your prior dating history. Bradley was neither of these things, as far as you were aware. Yet, the lack of clarity for what he felt was beginning to plant a sick feeling in your gut.
Things were going so well. Never had you felt more assured in someone's affection and interest in you. Never had you felt more cared for and adored. You loathed yourself to think of gambling that for the sake of your security.
Me: Hey.. not to ruin the mood, but I was just wo
Pathetic. Delete.
Me: Is this just a sex thing?
Abrasive. Delete.
You groaned to yourself in frustration. Judging by your history, this would only end one way. Still, you weren't sure how much longer you could bear the fluttering in your chest under the guise of nonchalance.
Me: I really like what's between us right now. But can I ask where you think this is going?
Here we go.
You hit the 'send' arrow before you could think through it for another second. God, why did this have to be so complicated? Were you the source of all the complications, with your need for control to figure out how everything had to go? Was this the reason no one would commit to you in the past? Or was the dating world simply reduced to nothing but souls too fearful to stick it out, for what could be lying ahead of them? Were you settling? Were you making him settle?
Two buzzes of your phone jolted you in your seat.
Flyboy: I think it'd be better to talk about this in person. You up for a drive?
Oh god.
You sent back an answer and ran your hands through your hair. Tears started to prick at your eyes already as a familiar sinking feeling settled in. Quickly, you were trying to soothe yourself with the small comforts of the situation.
His car always felt musty anyway.
You won't have to worry about accidental pregnancy!
It's face-to-face, at least. Maybe you'll get proper closure for once.
A dozen other weightless sentiments were stacked in your head by the time you heard the purr of a familiar engine outside. You drew in a deep breath, collected yourself as much as possible, and swiped up your keys.
Flyboy: Here!
You didn't even open the text thread, opting to keep your head bowed as you locked your front door. Goosebumps rose along your skin as it met the night air. With much effort, you inhaled deeply. Your feet were leaden as you trudged toward the Bronco.
All the darkness swirling in your head gave way to that bright smile Bradley held just for you. Something in your chest twisted sharply at the show of affection. Every moment of this adoration passing was the last, you reminded yourself. This drive would loop you right back to the somber state you were in before the greatest man you'd ever known walked into your life.
"Hey there, angel," he greeted. The rasp in his voice warmed you the same way a glass of whiskey would. Steadily, slowly, and then all at once.
"Hi," you called back as you hopped in the passenger side. You kept your gaze ahead, hands beginning a nervous pattern of threading fingers. Bradley raised a brow at the action but didn't call further attention to it. His eyes hooked to the road as he pulled the pair of you off into the night.
There was almost an ache in the absence of his hand on your thigh. Both of the worthy appendages anchored themselves to the wheel, no yield in their grip.
Safe driving; he's just practicing safe driving. It's a late night, dark even with the street lamps, and the Bronco's headlights didn't match the brightness of modern LEDs.
But perhaps it's the first thing to go. Bradley needed to take the first baby step away from this.. whatever it was. And he was having you take it with him.
Was there something you did? Maybe the night you spent together had been too soon. Or maybe you had been too forthcoming in your own intent, without clarity on his own.
You never let things simmer. You always had to know, that eternal impatience winning out against the chance of a simple slow burn. But maybe this wasn't meant to take that direction; maybe that's not what Bradley wanted.
Would anyone ever want that? Was it just that they didn't want it with you? What was so wrong with you? Were you so horribly broken to everyone else that no relationship could ever be fulfilled? What were you not seeing in yourself?
"Hey, earth to angel." An empty parking lot surrounded you. The sounds of crashing waves and the warm autumn breeze replaced the storm of neverending thoughts ringing in your ears. Bradley had his hand on your arm, the first touch he'd granted you the whole evening, the touch that broke your trance. His brows were furrowed again in concern as he scanned your sorrow-filled face. Not wanting to startle you further, he kept his voice soft. "Talk to me. What's going on in there?"
You took a moment to compose yourself. Your eyes shut as you drew in another deep breath, letting it out with a drop of your shoulders. And then, you told him.
Each one of your fears and anxieties, a summation of how your heart and body were carelessly juggled in the past, how you found yourself at fault in every instance. How even in that moment, when everything seemed to be right with him, something had clearly gone wrong out of your view and it was all about to crash. But it wasn't on him, you insisted. It was on you.
The waves and breeze continued to sound long after your voice faded from the air. Tears pricked at your eyes slowly in sullen acceptance. You had nailed your own coffin shut with this whole conversation. You should have stayed silent. Being lost on your path was better than taking an exit, wasn't it?
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Look at me." Bradley was an emotional man, you had come to learn. He wore his heart out on his sleeve the moment he felt safe enough. So, the absence of emotion from his voice churned your stomach worse than anything else. You met his eyes sheepishly, preparing for a more brutal "break-up" than you originally anticipated.
He sighed, the hand on your arm shifting up to cup your cheek. The touch warmed you and drew the tears from your eyes at once. Droplets rolled down your cheeks in single strands, yet you could not bother yourself with embarrassment. This would be the last he would see of you.
Bradley chuckled. "I did this all wrong, didn't I?"
What was there to laugh about? Had he meant to be more direct in his lack of intent, or in ending things-
"My mom's yelling at me from up there, I know it."
What?
Bewildered was the perfect word for your changed expression. And Bradley now knew better than to let you sit on coded messages.
He took your hands into his, rubbing soft circles along your knuckles as he told you, "I'm serious about this, angel. About us, you. I have been from the get-go."
A flurry of feelings coursed through you. Shock and relief mixed with the confusion still lingering behind in the wake of this confession. It was as if you didn't believe what you were hearing, because part of you really didn't. The part of you that had doubted a silver lining to your history of heartbreak was incapable of believing in a resolution.
You didn't know how to accept it or respond. Excitement was chomping at the bit to break your otherwise unsettled demeanor, but fear still held a tight grip on the reins. "Are.. are you sure?"
Bradley could've laughed again, the question ridiculous in his mind. Being with you was as clear as day to him. The ways in which you eased his soul, sparked life back up amidst his dreary routines, and made him picture a future ahead was something he knew he could not be without. He now realized his failure in communicating as such to the person needing to hear it most.
So he held back the laugh and held your hands instead. "I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you."
tags: @avengersfan25
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