#I went to your tumble to see if you have posted it yourself

[ellenchain]

This was incredible, I was laughing so much, amazing work @cartoonishly ♥️ thank you so much!

#hitman #cartoonishly #I went to your tumble to see if you have posted it yourself #Sorry if I beat you to it #it was just so amazing I have to share it #Youtube

[covetyou]

egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin as you look at him expectantly. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, not trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings bursts open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth over his cock until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

[neet-elite]

An Angel, The Devil, And God Take Care Of You — (SDV) Kinktober

Pairing: Sebastian / Sam / Alex / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 8,241 Warnings: Foursome, praise, degradation, worship, alcohol, Alex POV, established relationship, cunnilingus, consent checks, name calling, overstimulation, blowjob, creampie, L-bomb, aftercare Synopsis: He always knew that this would be a good idea. He’s been friends with Sam and Sebastian ever since he could remember, and though he’s aware of their closer than most bond, he’s never felt left out of the group. What better way is there to say thanks to them than: Here is my girlfriend, have fun.

A/N: So like… This is just porn without much plot. And it only barely fits into the Halloween theme but… I hope you enjoy it regardless! Posting this at 11.45pm on HALLOWEEN NIGHT LOL.

pinglist: @beet-roots / check my pinned to see how to get added!

What worth is a God if he is unwilling to share with his followers?

In all honesty, Alex is a God in costume only. The loosely wrapped toga—though cheap as it is—does well to showcase his hard worked for abs and muscular thighs, and even he has to admit that he looks quite pretty in the faux laurel wreath atop his head. Although, the outfit is a bit lopsided due to the rough and tumble nature of the drunken night thus far, and so he’s not as pretty as he was a few hours prior, but he doesn’t think you mind given the dopey smile you send his way when he catches your eye. Such a pretty and innocent smile that he automatically mimics in an effort to ease you into the situation you’ve found yourself in, letting his hand wander to your exposed thigh to pet at as a soft I love you, I’m always here.

With his grandparents out for the night and Spirit’s Eve so close, what else was he supposed to do besides thrown his annual costume party? The addition of his new girlfriend by his side is a welcome one, and he’s confident when thinking that the night has went well. You and him both are full with alcohol, a warm buzz in his chest to match your flushed cheeks as you get ready to end the night on a high note, one that has been extensively spoken about and thoroughly thought out. Once again he gives your inner thigh a rub upon recalling the talks, squeezing it lightly for reassuring consent before retracting his hand fully and back into his lap to hide the evidence.

Currently, he sits on his desk chair that’s been haphazardly pulled up beside his bed in a clear hurry, the way his legs have to straddle it at an awkward angle proving just how desperate he is for tonight. His eyes remain hazy when you nervously play with your hands, and when you mouth him a small thank you, his vision stays blurred; and it’s not just from the alcohol he’s consumed that night. But rather, the love and adoration that spreads from his chest to his cheeks at the sight of you so small. You always look so small in his bed, especially when he’s in it with you, but tonight is a different kind. An overcrowding, he settles on.

“Comfy?” Sam asks, his voice barely registering in Alex’s ears because he’s much too focused on the way you squirm in the speakers lap. The way your fluttering eyes catch his attention as you shuffle against Sam, your back to his chest while Sam rests himself against the old bed headboard. Sam’s halo drops a little at your movement, the angelic outfit adorning him all crumpled and riding further up his body the more you wiggle. It’s a bit ironic, Alex muses, but he also thinks he hasn’t been more in love with you than he is right now. He doesn’t think much else in this moment.

“Mhm.” You respond softly, sweetly, like the good girl you are. It’s too easy for him to lose himself in your innocent voice given the lewd scene before him, the stark contrast going straight to his cock as he repositions himself as subtly as possible to accommodate his growing length.

“Can you, uh… Spread your legs a bit more?”

This time, Sebastian is the one to ask. A small whispered please follows him, as if politeness was only a secondary thought, or something you weren’t deserving of. Alex doesn’t mind either way, his cock pulses against the light cloth of his toga at the thought regardless. He knows his friend well, and as such, he’s well prepared for what’s to come.

Sebastian is bent over in front of you, the faux devil horns atop his head threatening to poke against your knees while his palm lays flat against the tent in his pants like a dirty pervert. The sight of your gasped reaction to Seb’s want for you causes Alex’s cock to twitch too, and he inwardly laughs at himself. He too is a pervert, so he can’t judge his friend too much. Especially not when you comply with his request and let Sebastian’s gaze drop down to your cute panties. The ones Alex specifically picked for you to wear for tonights events.

Seeing you sandwiched between an angel and a demon is one of the best sights Alex has ever seen he decides, dropping his hand to his own cock to match Sebastian while Sam whines softly behind you, the shifting around you’re doing surely rubbing against the poor boys hard cock. You fit so well between his friends, your own costume barely there to begin with and leaving little to the imagination all night. It’s been difficult resisting you, and his heart hurts at the realisation that he doesn’t have to hold back any longer, breath catching in his throat when you seem to have the same realisation. Both of you suddenly acutely aware of your surroundings as Sebastian settles between your open legs, his hard on poking against your cute plain panties, white and girlish to excite his friends. He’s glad to see his choice has worked. And perhaps more than that, his cock hardens at the knowing that his friends are beside themselves with need for you.

Alex doesn’t speak. Not yet. He’s content enough just to watch you with hearts in his eyes, pride swelling in his chest at the way you moan out for more attention—of which Sam and Sebastian are all too eager to provide you—and how you catch his eye every now and then with that glassy look you wear oh so well. An unspoken confirmation shared, an otherwise private confession. He does nothing more than give you a little nod, and you’re already pawing at Sebastian’s all but ruined costume. Which is a shame, really, because Alex thought he looked pretty hot in the demon fit.

“Fuck, you’re eager—” Sebastian laughs, but it’s too breathless to be considered mocking. No, Alex knows the tone as one of ruin, because he’s let out the same gasped sound before when you’ve been beneath him. Precum leaks from his tip when Sam removes his halo, the gravity of the situation not lost on him as the angel in front of him loses his innocence in favour of lusting after you, tugging on your shirt and helping you remove it in one swift move. And just like that, things are happening too fast for Alex to keep up with. Reeling at the fact that just as Sam’s greedy hands grab under your bra so too does Alex grab at his cock as if on command, shaking it once or twice and letting a rushed breath escape him. Sebastian is already in the process of undressing too, and thanks to his desperation, he’s soon done and prompting both you and Alex to suck in air. Muscular, though not as much as Alex. It’s his tummy that draws Alex’s vision off of you for just a few seconds, the way they flex under the strain of holding back for you causes more precum to drip down his length, staining his cheap costume sheer for you to stare at. Which is only made worse really as he catches a glimpse of Seb’s cock, all red and wet, jumping for attention that he gladly gives it.

But you don’t.

Sebastian smiles at your gaze in an apparent moment of weakness, his own eyes travelling with your own to gawk at the barely hidden sight of Alex’s own hard cock, and yet still he gently places a finger under your chin as if he was afraid to break you. Don’t damage the goods. He pulls your attention back to him slowly, your eyes hanging on to the wrong cock for as long as possible, and Alex can’t help but snort laughter at the dumb look you adopt. “Eyes on me, dummy.” Sebastian all but slurs, the effect of the alcohol Alex assumes. But… He wouldn’t blame him if it was more caused by how stupid you look, all cute and needy. It’s Alex’s favourite sight, and his cock trembles with excitement to share that look with his friends.

With your attention back where it belongs, Sebastian doesn’t hesitate in teasing you. Dirty words of “Such a needy thing, aren’t you?” and “You really need three cocks?” whispered against your soft skin, matched by a demonic smile as his teeth graze against your neck. Alex tugs at his clothed cock when you react almost instantly with a whined nod, and he watches Sam’s hands travel down your body as he signals for Seb to help undress you too.

They’re so impatient about it too, tearing at your costume and groping every inch of your skin they can reach in the process. Pinching at your sides, squeezing at your tits; their excitement is palpable. And once you’re sufficiently naked all three of them sigh into you, a collective appraisal of how pretty you are; and how much they need you. Perhaps a bit too eagerly so, given how Sam is quickly lifting you up off his body for just a moment, just a few seconds until Sebastian can help him remove the bottom half of his angelic costume and his cock can slap out against his tummy. Alex doesn’t miss the way a string of precum connects Sam’s tip to his abs, and he has to swallow back a moan so as to not disturb the scene playing out in front of him too much.

“Please—” He hears Sam beg. “You’re so soft and pretty, please put it in—” All gasped and cute, like nothing else in the world exists to his friend other than being inside of you. Alex can barely contain himself too, digging his hand under his toga to thumb at his leaking slit, letting a barely audible exhale escape him as his hips roll into the feeling.

It only takes a moment for his eyes to flutter shut, thumb pressed against his tip to play with himself, and when they open again, Sam’s cock has slipped into your pretty little cunt. It feels real good to be an observer, he thinks. To have his rough hand tight around his cock, all the way at the base to squeeze at while you’re squished between his two best friends. He’s got the best seat in the house to watch you fall apart, feeling privileged to have your trust in this process. Your previous position remains much the same, except you’ve slid down a little—no doubt due to sitting on Sam’s cock—while your legs are forcibly raised in the air, Sam’s strong grip right under your knees and Sebastian’s greedy hold on the fat of your thighs. Sam seems to have slipped down the bed with you, though Alex trusts the grasp he has on you while his cock slowly enters you is sufficient enough, the high pitched whine that sounds once you’re completely sat down on his cock goes right through Alex, and he’s got no choice but to respond with his own low groan too.

The sudden sound of his appreciation must have been loud enough for all to hear, and Sam lets out a faint laugh turned moan in response. The sound of his voice makes Alex’s cheeks heat up. “She’s so tight, Alex. Fuck—" Talking about you like an object and not his loving girlfriend. There’s something so gross about that that his cock enjoys.

Alex doesn’t have the strength in him to fully respond, the soft mewl you offer Sam as his cock fills you full effectively silences him as his fist starts to move up and down his too hard cock slowly, in time with the ever gentle rocks of Sam’s hips up into you. Alex can hear how much you appreciate the soft start, the sight of you biting down on your lip to try and remain somewhat composed does the complete opposite to Alex, his heart hammering in his chest and his cock pulsing hard under his touch. Sam seems to be struggling to stay calm and collected too, shoving his cock into you as deep as possible and still trying to bury deeper, a feeling Alex knows all too well. But before Alex can praise you for taking his friend so nicely, and to thank Sam for taking his time to fully appreciate you, your pretty face all scrunched up at the full feeling, mouth left open to let out huffs of air in an attempt to accommodate Sam’s length, Sebastian steals the show away from him.

As Seb bends down further in front of you, right before the sheathed cock in your cunt, his spread hands still straining to hold your legs up above his head, he tuts at you. A deep, condescending sound that turns Alex on just as much as it does you apparently, Sam wincing into the feeling of your tightening cunt. “I should’ve known such a dirty girl would want more, right?” He laughs, light enough to provide you with a false sense of security, but Alex can better hear the slight edge in his voice. It seems Sam can too, halting his movements briefly to provide Sebastian enough time to dive down to your cunt, his tongue immediately laying flat against your slit and by extension; the base of Sam’s cock too. A rough moan rises from Sebastian at the way your hips immediately buck up against his lips, and the sound vibrates across your cunt, a mix of whines and moans escaping both you and Sam in response. Alex can’t stop his fist from moving faster now, a snap up and down his fat cock in sheer desperation to watch the scene before him play out to its eventual conclusion. It’s hot. Too hot given the way he’s panting like a dog and things have barely gotten started. He’s not sure how he’s going to last the whole night.

Once you’re settled into the feeling of Seb’s tongue flicking up and down your cunt and Sam has finally remembered how to begin moving again, Alex offers you a tense good job before his eyes instinctively focus at your cunt. How wet and sloppy it looks with the addition of Sebastian’s saliva, watching said man come up off your cunt to ask in a brief moment of kindness “Is this okay?” only for you to quickly nod and for him to dip his head back down, this time focusing his efforts on your clit and occasionally offering Sam a quick lick as he fucks into you. Wet sounds fill the room, and Alex is thankful to spend the night alone with you like this. No one but you and his best friends left, and the sound of skin on skin. It’s bliss, and his cock is surely thankful too from how rigid it is under his strong grip.

Sam seems to be in a rush, too. Not that Alex is complaining, because he knows just how perfect your little cunt feels and how easily it is to lose himself in your tight heat. But there’s something in Alex’s core that stirs as he watches the earlier angel delve deeper into damnation with every greedy thrust, his feet planted firmly in the bed at either side of you while he easily manhandles you into position. Lifted only slightly off his cock so he can hammer into you from below, snapping his hips into your tight hole like his life depends on it. Desperate. Sam is beyond hopeless right now, driven only by his needs to cum inside of you and to make you feel good. Countless whines of his spill, almost as pitchy as your own, and Alex catches Sebastian referring to you both as sluts. He can’t deny that one.

“That’s it, fuck,” Sam sighs, though it’s more of a struggle to get out than one of relaxation, like it pains him to be feeling so good. The wet slap of his balls hitting your backside as he humps himself into you, bullying his cock into you over and over again, unable to prevent his hips from picking up speed with each fuck he makes; it prompts Alex to swallow thickly in an effort to remain focused. Because it’s difficult to do that when the sound of another mans name in your voice rings in his ears, and all it does is cause his hips to fuck upwards into his lonely hand on their own. “Doing so—shit, Seb, do that again—doing so good pretty girl.” Sam moans down your ear, face pressed snug to the crook of your neck for him to pant directly into as you’re fucked and sucked by yourr angel and demon friends.

And it seems Sebastian heeds Sam’s words well, returning to lick the entire length of your cunt, including Sam’s cock. Alex wonders if Seb can taste you on Sam, and his legs widen at the thought that he must. The state his friends have you in is astonishing, your hair all messed up and body shaking under the too much pleasure they offer you. Alex briefly ponders if you’re going to be able to last the night as he strokes himself to your ruin, and then he quickly moans when he realises that he doesn’t care. Sam’s praise of “Don’t stop, God don’t fucking stop—” despite pinning you so close to his body that you have no say in stopping or not as he fucks into you, and Sebastian’s degrading remarks of “Dummy, only knows how to get fucked, huh?” followed by light laughter at the way both you and Sam eagerly nod down at him, proves to be just as much an issue for Alex as it does for you, your body arching off of Sam’s front to prove just how good you feel. Even Alex feels his head spinning a bit, and all he’s doing is watching you bounce, his gaze catching sight of Seb’s ass every now and then and his throat drying up at the view of Sam’s slick covered cock.

He always knew that this would be a good idea. He’s been friends with Sam and Sebastian ever since he could remember, and though he’s aware of their closer than most bond, he’s never felt left out of the group. What better way is there to say thanks to them than: Here is my girlfriend, have fun. He trusts them both to take care of you, and to look after you well, and given the cute little whimpers Sam fucks out of you and the gasps for more Sebastian’s tongue forces you to make, he couldn’t be happier. Hand on his own cock, flipping the stupid costume over so that he can properly free himself and hissing into the air as he jacks himself off to the sight of you having fun. It’s so dirty, and he loves it.

It just so happens that as Alex feels a tightening coil in his tummy, the addition of added pressure courtesy of Sebastian’s tongue is too much for Sam to handle, which Alex finds more than adorable. How sweet both you and Sam sound together, moaning for each other in such desperation that he has to slow down fisting his own cock just to stave off the quickly approaching orgasm. It doesn’t help that he’s been waiting for this event since the month started, dealing with your drunken antics and watching you flirt all night in preparation. It’s only natural that he’s close, right? Forced to watch your tight cunt wrap so prettily around Sam, watching Sam fall apart inside of you with each frantic thrust he has you bounce into, and watching Sebastian enjoy himself just from eating you out and whispering inaudible filthy words against your cunt. The way you react is obvious enough, and Alex finds himself gently humping into his hand to mimic the act of sex with you as he stays patient on the sidelines, despite his attempt at slowing down. It’s just the effect you have on him, being unable to commit to stopping when you’re around.

“Perfect little pussy,” Sam moans, though it almost sounds like a beg from how strained his voice is. “Making me feel so good, yeah?” he continues, words as sweet as his ruined angel costume that’s been carelessly tossed to the side, covered in a mix of precum, your slick, and Sebastian’s saliva. “God— hope you feel good too—” Sam pants against you, and Alex wants to reassure him that you do, that the whines spilling from your lips with every thrust of his cock that he bullies up into you is evidence enough that he’s fucking you good, but his arm is too tense and his hand is too tight around his wet cock that all that tumbles from his mouth is a strangled groan.

In a final act of need, Sam grips your legs firmly, inadvertently pulling you away from Sebastian for just a moment before he gives chase to suck noisily at your clit some more, but Sam doesn’t pick up on it. For him, it seems his desperation has reached breaking point, and Alex eagerly sits at the edge of his seat with cock in hand to pump away at while waiting to see what Sam does next. A last ditch effort to prove himself with his head thrown back as far as it can because it feels too good inside of you at this new angle, the rasp of your moans when Sebastian hums against your slit causing Sam to stutter into you a few more times before he’s crying your name; an inappropriately sinful sound for an angel, and one that Alex struggles not to cum to as you match the pitch and broken tone with your own whimper. Sam continues to fuck into you despite how painful it must be out of sheer greed to milk himself dry as he cums inside your pretty hole, making it even prettier as some of his load seeps out from his inconsistent humps. Alex watches the leak with great greed, biting down on his lip and squeezing his cock at the base to hold himself back. It’s not his turn yet.

“Aw, look at her—” Sebastian coos, his tone anything but genuine. Sarcasm drips his words as he speaks against your clit, a short huff of laughter leaving him at the way you shiver into his harsh voice. “You look so dumb right now,” he continues, and Alex agrees, nodding along with Sebastian despite not being the recipient of such dirty words. “Fucked stupid already?” Seb tuts, followed by: “Good. It suits you.” Before he’s given you a chance to reply.

“Good job, babe.” Alex offers you as consolation, and though he wishes he could say more, he’s practically winded at the dazed and dumb smile you offer him in response. Oh how he wishes he could bury his cock in you already, chest tight with anticipation for his own turn at using you. At loving you.

And Sam, lagging behind, breathing heavily into a sigh from behind you. Sebastian, though rather unfair thus far, takes a moment to rub soothingly against your clit. Small and gentle circles with the pad of his thumb, knowing that you must be so sensitive and yet still not wanting you to feel neglected while Sam gathers himself and slips out of you, cum dripping down to stain Alex’s sheets white as you’re quietly left alone on the bed with Sebastian.

Recovering, Sam makes his way over to Alex and rests on the floor beside him, the two sharing a small smile at the prime viewing position. No words are exchanged, and Alex supposes that’s a good sign. His hand removes itself from his cock to take a breather too, edging himself just for you, for when his friends are truly spent and he can enjoy you when you’re most ruined. Because he already knows he isn’t going to last long, his cock trembling at the mere thought of being inside of you, eyes rolled to the back of his head to refocus when Sebastian drags a single finger from your hole to your clit, the reaction you offer being that of overstimulation. Sam fucked you well, perhaps a little too well given how ragged his breathing remains as he settles next to Alex, resting his messy bedhead on Alex’s knee, but his hard cock convinces him that it’s all part of the fun of the night.

It’s interesting to see the differences in how his friends act. How, where Sam is kind—yet often too energetic—Sebastian is… Well, the opposite. Mean and methodical. Making you work for his affections, and even then he barely gives you any. It’s fun watching you flounder under him, the tip of his cock pressing teasingly against your slit while you babble for something; whatever that may be seems to be turning the room on more regardless of how unintelligible you are. Just the needy tone of your voice is enough to get them going.

Due to your whimpered begging, Sebastian takes to slowly rocking his hips against your cum filled slit, his eyebrows scrunching at the easy glide Sam has offered him, and Alex clenches his fists in barely contained restraint when you try to buck your hips up to meet the mocking thrusts. “Greedy girl.” Sebastian reprimands, though still his thumb presses down on the base of his cock in preparation for pushing in. It seems he can’t quite control himself either, and suddenly Alex feels less bad about being so head over heels for you in this situation that he’s almost convinced to touch his cock again, but the feeling of Sam’s breath against his tip convinces him to pause for a moment. Forces his attention to switch from you so that he can stare between his thighs in a mix of shock and awe.

What greets him is an open mouthed Sam, tongue dangerously close to his cock as a fat bead of precum leaks and rolls down the length for his friend to immediately lap up, the feeling of which causes Alex to truly spiral. No longer can he withhold his need, his tummy flipping with how different but fucking good it feels to come into contact with something other than his hand on his rock hard cock.

The fact that Sam went down on him without asking, or really without thinking, stirs something deep within Alex. Instincts taking over the moment Sam pops the tip past his lips, the warm and wet feeling of a new tongue circling the slit; Alex is left simply with no control left. His hands lock on to Sam’s already messed up hair and he holds tight, treating the angel much rougher than he deserves as he’s all but forced down Alex’s cock. A soft gargle is ripped out of Sam, and it only spurs Alex on more. He can’t fully process how unfair he’s being to Sam with how taut his muscles are, full of his need to breed anything at this point thanks to your dirty display, and Sam looks so stupidly good when choking on cock that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t.

It’s almost painful to tear his eyes away from Sam as his body reacts intuitively. Every tug of Sam’s hair is matched with an impatient thrust of his hips, hoping to fuck his cock deeper into the tight throat enveloping him. It just feels too good to stop, and when he eventually gathers the willpower to look back at you, he almost cums on the spot. Has to force Sam’s head all the way down for a few seconds so as to not blow his load before he has his chance with you tonight.

Seeing you so submissive and bent over with Seb’s cock slowly dragging in and out of you isn’t what he’d expected already, but he’s not about to complain. A low wolf whistle filling the room that promptly turns into a winced moan as Sam takes the opportunity of distraction to move again, tongue flat against Alex’s cock and head bobbing at an increased speed. Sebastian looks over at the whistle, and smirks before proudly stating.

“Bitch in heat.”

With how dizzying Sam’s sucks are it takes Alex a moment to register the words completely, and even then he can’t tell who they’re really aimed it. Himself, with his hands locked in one of his best friends hair to guide him better down his cock, or you, bent over prettily and presenting your holes for another man. God— he wants to cum inside of you so bad. A reward for tonight, for performing so well and allowing his friends to experience your perfect little cunt. For moaning Sebastian’s name so cutely that even he himself responds with a curt gasp.

It only take a brief sigh later for Sebastian to start truly fucking into you, a stark contrast from his earlier slow teasing; brutal slaps once again fill the room and Alex has to look away for a few seconds in what looks like pained effort, but really it’s because he can easily imagine that it’s him that’s slapping his balls against you right now. That it’s him that’s making you cry silently, fists balled up tightly into his sheets as Sebastian refuses to hold back any longer.

Staying true to his discarded demon fit, he’s being mean. Treating you poorly, caring only for his own pleasure as his hips hump into you at a bruising pace. The wet squelch from the remainder of Sam’s cum fucked in and out of you, and the fact that you’ve been kept on edge since the night began has you dripping down your own thighs leaves Alex gasping, reaching one hand out to you in a want to soothe your erotic sounds, but he falls short as Sam swallows around his leaking tip again. Rendered useless by the angel between his legs, and left begging for more show by the demon fucking you up his bed. Disgusting. It’s so hot.

And just like the God he’s dressed as, Sam sucks his cock so well it’s got him light headed. He can feel his wreath slipping off his head from how eagerly Sam sucks him off, but he can’t care enough to fix it. Mind empty beyond the need to cum, indulging in the hedonistic pleasure between his legs while you’re fucked into the sheets. It’s getting increasingly difficult for his eyes to remain open on you, consistently rolled back into a grimace from how good he feels, but he catches sight of your teary eyed expression pleading at him and a soft please begged. For what? He can’t discern. But he’s glad Sebastian can look after you right now, watching through hazy eyes as he grabs hold of your pretty ass and spreads your cheeks open to gain more purchase, lifting himself up a little so that he can fuck you even deeper, resulting in rough and ragged sounds of Sebastian’s attempts to breathe, but Alex knows. He knows that your cunt feels too good to make sense of the situation, that Sebastian must be struggling to keep up his demonic display but now. It’s present in the way his face scrunches up every time he’s balls deep in you, how his hands slip from your ass with every pound and stretch he forces your hole to accept.

And yet still, he has time to taunt. A frankly condescending “You’re in no position to be begging, baby.” Is barked loudly at you, and Alex finds himself agreeing. Corrupted by Sebastian’s foul language, enticed into falling further from Godhood with every lap of Sam’s tongue, every throaty choke and gasp his fat cock fucks out of him. Be a good girl, and make his friends feel good, yeah? Nothing compares to the pride he feels with each gush of your cunt and sob fucked out of you.

What’s worse—or better, he quickly amends mentally—is that Sebastian isn’t even looking at you while bouncing your ass back against his cock. He has complete control over you, and he doesn’t so much as glance down at you. But rather, his gaze is locked on Alex, or maybe his cock, it’s difficult to differentiate with how hazy Alex’s vision is given the waves of pleasure that’s currently building in his tummy. All he can think about is how it feels too good to be watched like this, and how he can’t wait to love on you the second Sebastian’s unfair treatment stops. And yet, knowing that for the moment you’re nothing more than a hole to be fucked is enough to almost trip Alex up, tapping on Sam’s head in a plea for pause.

“Close?” Sam asks, but his throat is fucked raw and his voice is croaky and it prompts Alex to roll his eyes in sheer sexual frustration.

“Can’t help it.” Alex wearily laughs in return, confirming without confirmation that yeah, he’s close. Who wouldn’t be he thinks to himself as Sebastian thoroughly stretches your insides and repeatedly fucks Sam’s seed back into you. “It’s… I mean—” words fail him, swallowing thickly when he has a proper moment to take in the state you’re in, mind racing with thoughts of how he’s going to reward you for tonight.

But for right now, it’s up to Sebastian to exhaust you. Or, maybe to exhaust himself, given the fact that his thrusts are inconsistent and sloppy now, more a case of trying to ruin rather than actually doing so. Like he’s losing himself in the tightness of your cunt, his chest almost pressing into your back from how deep he tries to get inside of you, panting above your neck when his hips simply won’t stop.

And Alex is in love with the way your back dips to help Sebastian. How despite the croak in your voice you still show your appreciation by moaning, whining about how good it feels and responding to every nasty word that stumbles out of Sebastian’s mouth. Dirty girl this, needy cunt that.

Both Sam and Alex take to watching the scene unfold before them, Alex’s cock twitching and leaking some more while he waits his turn, willing himself not to touch his cock; because he understands that he hasn’t got much longer to wait.

From his holier than thou position behind you, Sebastian falters. In his chest is a heavy feeling, and Alex feels fortunate to watch the man fall apart, to see the downfall that you’re banned from viewing by way of Seb’s harsh hand on the back of your neck keeping your sobs muffled against the bed sheets, but he’ll have to tell you all about it later tonight. The way Sebastian trembles against you, how slicked up his cock is with cum, how his mean facade wavers the more he humps his cock into you like you were somehow uncorrupting him. Alex holds his breath while his cock dribbles precum when Sebastian teeters on the edge, evident from how his fucks gain a small amount more focus and precision until eventually; you’re receiving your second load of the night.

No amount of kind care has been given to you, from Sam’s misguided eagerness to make you feel good resulting in only serving himself, and Sebastian’s purposeful selfish attitude, Alex has to convince himself not to cum the moment he hears your upset sob. Filled with just as much frustration as it is enjoyment from having Sebastian fill you up from behind, burying himself as deep as he can and resting, letting his cock pulse inside of the deepest parts of your hole to empty against your cervix. And how pretty Sebastian looks when cumming too. Focused, a light sheen on his skin while he fills you up with soft huffs of air, brows furrowed and teeth clenched. It almost makes up for how his heart hurts to hear your annoyance over not cumming yet, but knowing his turn is next persuades him to wait. Let Sebastian play with you some more by forcing you to wait on his cock until he decides he’s done.

Another break swiftly follows for everyone to relax, Alex’s hand automatically tugging and playing with his cock lightly in fear of busting immediately if any more pressure is added, but he can’t not touch himself when Seb offers him an apologetic grin.

“Wow.” Sam half laughs, genuine joy present in his tone as well as his face. It’s only natural given the overtly lewd scene in from of them, and Alex nods too in response. Too afraid to talk, he wants to give you the space you need to calm down enough before he approaches.

Sebastian slowly slips out, wincing just as much as he’s sure you are while more cum flows out with him. Dripping down your legs, collecting in a pool under your cunt. Alex can see the way your legs shake from the stress you’ve endured tonight, and his heart skips a beat with how cute he finds it. “God, Alex, I—” Sebastian stumbles, but there’s an unmistakable smile on his lips.

“It’s all good.” Alex reassures, flashing a dopey smile too to communicate that he understands. Thanks.

“And you.” Sebastian lowers himself down to your level, off the bed now and crouching next to it. He allows you to turn your head to face him, and when you do so he pets your face so softly. “You done so well.”

Even from behind Sebastian, Alex can hear your sniffled thanks. All quiet and timid, but nonetheless genuine. Alex can’t imagine what you must be going through right now, but he assumes it must be much the same as him. Pure need to cum, and he wants to be able to provide you that.

Sebastian takes a step away from you and it’s all Alex needs before he’s climbing to the bed beside you, prompting you to lay down after such a draining experience and being careful not to overwhelm you too much. Hell, having Sebastian alone would be tiring enough, but to deal with Sam’s puppy excitement too in one night? He tuts reassuringly down at you, helping you reposition onto your back so that you can be as comfortable as possible while he rests back against his knees between your legs. Even if you agreed to the foursome tonight too, he’d still like to make sure you’re doing all right.

“Baby…” He coos at you, hovering above you as gently as possible, but he’s well aware of how hard his cock is from the way it stands almost upright against his abs, and how harsh his panting breaths are from needing to fuck you too. “I’m so proud of you, so proud.” He whispers, leaning over you to place tender kisses against your cheeks, leaving a trail along your tear streaks to show just how precious you are to him.

And it’s true. He loves you so much he’d like to destroy you too.

While his attention has been divided all night, now that he has you under him finally, he’s resolute to give you his full focus. Barely cupping your cheek while you shake, your legs automatically rising to better fit him between them. It’s unfair, he thinks. Not only how pretty you look when getting fucked, but how your body just acts without second thought. How stupidly hot it is to see you still asking for more, even if your legs tremble and your voice remains a constant whimper. At least this proves to him that you’re still consenting, and that you still want him. Something he didn’t realise he needed as much as he did until you willingly gave it to him. The pout you wear is too cute, and he has to fight with himself not to shove himself inside of you with reckless abandon. No, you deserve softness after such obscene treatment.

“Made everyone feel so good tonight, yeah?” He prompts you, heart fit to burst when you quickly nod up at him and flutter your eyes. “Time to make you feel good now, kay?” He promises you, because while he may be dressed as the God tonight, it’s you that he worships, and he’s more than excited to do just that.

The stupid costume he’s got on is easily removed in favour of matching your state of undress, a heavy sigh escaping him as he’s finally free of all constraints and his cock can stand tall and proud. To his side he hears some whistling and jeers, but he can’t even turn to look when he has you begging for him to enter below him. A tiny hand wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding him to your well used and abused hole: home. Even just the feeling of his friends mixed seeping cum coming into contact with his cock is enough to convince him to slowly push in, but it helps to hear your low whine as his tip pushes past your entrance too.

Immediately, relief washes over him. An almost overwhelming chill down his spine once he enters, so much so that he doesn’t stop slowly pushing until he can feel his thighs touch your ass. When he looks down to confirm that he’s fully entered—if your cute whines weren’t enough—he groans out at the cum that’s circling his cock. You’re so wet and sloppy, your cunt made such a mess thanks to his friends, and the feeling of their enjoyment lathering his cock up feels a bit too much to bear. Forces him to simply breathe for a few seconds while he’s inside you, warming his cock up despite your cries to continue.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you, flinching into the way your cunt squeezes tighter around his cock despite the snug fit, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

To prove his promise, he presses his thumb lightly against your clit and instantly drops his head low from how responsive you are, coaxed into letting his hips move and start a slow rhythm into you solely out of a want to perform well for you as you’ve done for everyone else tonight. In and out, letting you feel his whole length almost slip out of you before gradually pushing back in, coupled with soft smooth circles against your puffy clit. It’s enough stimulation for the both of you after such a long night, and though he’d love to go a bit harder, he hasn’t the heart to when you hum so sweetly into his touch. An unspoken thanks hanging in the air as he worships you, taking his time and paying special attention to your needs as he rests your heavy legs on his shoulders.

“Tired?” He asks, but his voice comes out as more of a whisper. For as feral as he’s felt today, actually getting to be the one inside of you now turns him soft. “It’s okay, you did so well baby. Let me look after you now.” He states, pleading for your acceptance of his adoration tonight. Let me love you, he asks with a swipe of his thumb. Let me show you how special you are, he begs with a buck of his hips. It’s what you deserve, he thinks, for being the best girl tonight and always. Just a little devotion, spoken clearly with every thrust, every stroke your cunt offers him. The least he can do is provide you with the release you so desperately need, and that you’ve earned by way of letting your hole be used.

A quiet hum escapes him as he melts into you, not daring to fuck you much faster than he already is lest he loses all control, focusing mostly on seeing you to your end, but all the mess and comfort of being inside your cunt is enough to have him on edge already too. He hadn’t expected to last very long given the whole day edging session he’s been on, and especially considering he’s just watched you get absolutely ruined by the only two other closest people in his life, so it’s no surprise that your perfect cunt has him this close already. And to be honest, he thinks he’d be able to cum even just by letting his cock rest inside of you at this point.

“Love you.” He sighs simply, eyes closing tightly to really feel the way your hole wraps around him, how it fits him perfectly, so slick and easy to glide into with the small humps he settles into. Not snappy, but purposeful. Because he knows all your spots, knows how to make you feel as good as you’re entitled to. “So proud of you tonight, babe. C’mon, you can do it.” He encourages you, admiration dripping his words from how pretty you look when on the cusp of orgasm, knowing that he’ll quickly follow you when you do eventually cum.

And he doesn’t have to wait long. The lazy but heavy thrusts he fucks into you and the tight precise rubs of his thumb against your clit are too much after the eventful night, and he can tell you’re close by the way you fall silent spare some rushed gasps and the keen shiver in your thighs. Still, he asks just to make you whine uh huh and then he doubles his efforts, picking up enough speed to make you bounce down on his cock as much as he fucks up, and letting his thumb grow careless in its strokes against you. Panting for each other like you were in heat, ignoring the other party in the room to solely focus on each other, like nothing else exists in this moment beyond each other. He feels your tell-tale squeeze, and then it’s over for him too.

As your back arches off the bed in what he can only assume is the best orgasm of your life, he wraps his arms tight around your midsection and humps into you like a dog, burying his head against your neck and groaning and moaning into your ear. He fucks you down against his cock while you cum around him, rolling his eyes at the vulgar sounds that escape your lips, pounding into your convulsing cunt until he eventually spills with you too, a rough growl quickly following at how soft and sensitive your insides are. And, truth be told, how delicate his cock feels too. Red raw and overstimulated in your too tight cunt, shivering into your nails as they claw down his back, picking you up into a tight hug while he continues to buck into you until he’s completely milked empty.

Though even then he keeps his cock inside your warm heat, holding you close to his sweaty body to whisper reassuring praise against you. Because you deserve it. Because you’re his, and he needs you to know it.

“Calm down, c’mon baby, breathe for me.” He huffs despite finding it difficult to catch his own breath. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It’s over now, promise.”

He continues hushed aftercare until you’re properly settled, cock still buried deep into your cum filled cunt in hopes of plugging it in. Behind him, he feels a hand against his lower back. He’s too tired to turn around and see the owner, but as he lifts his head regardless he can see Sam behind you, presumably giving you the same treatment.

“What a show.” Sam admits with a smile, eyes half-lidden and sleepy. It’s understandable, Alex can feel the same wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“You’re telling me.” Sebastian hums behind Alex, and you lift your head at the sound too, a satisfied smile on your face despite the tear stains on your cheeks. “Seriously, thanks. Both of you.” Seb follows up with, and Alex lets his head lean back to rest on his friends shoulder.

Fatigue overwhelms the room, and after a few drowsy minutes of just existing next to each other and Alex’s softening cock slowly slipping out of you until it eventually pops out, he’s reminded of the gross amount of cum painting… Well, pretty much everything at this point.

He groans as he sits up, his arms remaining wrapped around you to keep you safe and close to him. “We should all clean up.” He asserts, swinging his legs off the edge of his bed and waiting until he feels stable enough to stand without wobbling with you in his arms. Sebastian and Sam are quick to follow, and he makes a mental note to ask what they got up to when it was his turn with you. “But first, the princess.” He nuzzles into you, leaving loving kisses all over your face as he walks towards the bathroom with his best friends in tow.

Maybe tonight should become a new Spirits Eve tradition, much like his yearly house parties. He’ll bring it up tomorrow, because for tonight, he’d like to take care of everyone with the same respect he was given.

#sdv smut #sdv sam smut #sdv sebastian smut #sdv alex smut #stardew valley smut #- writing

[themotherofhorses]

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #request #vic writes 🧸

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

So uh...Adam nsfw story? Idc what kind. Any. I just wanna see an Adam smut story please

that can totally happen! i’m hoping i did this request justice!

nsfw under the read more. minors dni pls.

rating: R

genre: smutty

characters: Adam x Reader

warnings: overstimulation and restraints.

Adam and you tumble into your room, never leaving the reach of each other. There seemed to be something unspoken and sinful at the thought of not having some physical contact that you both understood. Your hand drew down his chest as your mouth moved to his neck and he whined. He fucking whined. You closed your eyes trying to control yourself, him making it almost impossible to. He helps get his pants off, kneeling down and shedding yours as quickly as possible. He’s kisses up your legs stopping at the wetness leaking out from your underwear.

“You’re so wet already for me, aren’t ya babe?” he asks, gently drawing a finger over you stopping right above your clit, just lightly resting there. You take his mask off and grab his hair.

“Please. Please Adam.” You try and rock yourself into his finger, looking for any type of friction but he pulls away and you cry out, looking down accusingly. Your eyes narrow at him and he licks his finger that was on you.

“Divine.” He murmurs and you pull him up to you and push him on the bed. His eyes widen and he protests when you mark up his neck. The protests giving way to whimpers and moans. You slide down and take his cock in your hands. Twisting your hands up, and pinching the tip. He moans loudly and bucks his hips toward you, looking desperate.

“You want more?” You ask, wanting pay back on his little teasing stunt he pulled just a moment ago.

“Please. Please. Fuck. Just do something, bitch.” Adam pleaded, getting annoyed.

“Do anything? Okay.” You took your mouth and just sucked on the tip of his cock, tonguing the slit in a back and forth motion. Not letting up when Adam was begging and holding his hips down so he couldn’t move. You went from barely pleasuring him, to giving him too much as he was always so sensitive.

“I-I-Oh-I’m gonna…” He trailed off his body stiffening and you stopped. He looks around dazed and sees you pulled off his cock, just looking at him.

“Such a pretty color, like a deep tomato isn’t it?” you say, admiring the color.

“Well yeah, it’s gonna be awesome. This was the first dick. Gotta go with the best first.” Adam said, regaining his cocky attitude. You hum.

“I’m tired of your attitude Adam. I will keep this up until you’re nice.” You say. He laughs.

“You can’t keep this up bitch.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m the one in charge.”

“No you’re the one who’s tied up.” You say and snap your fingers. His eyes widen as he sees his legs and arms tied to each post on your bed.

“What? How?” He asks.

“Magic. You remember the safe word?” You ask Adam, waiting. He nods. “What color are you right now?”

“G-Green.” He murmurs.

“Good boy.” He whines and you go back to his member. You suck on the tip again, and tongue his slit back and forth, this time quicker and soon he is screaming for release. Begging as he’s thrashing against the restraints.

“You’ve only lasted twice? My goodness you are needy.” You say, and place your hand on him. You start to quickly jerk him off. His broken mutters to ‘slow down’ are lost on you.

“I don’t think I will. Cum for me now.” You say and he cries out as he finally cums. His breathing relaxing as you release his arms and legs from their restraints and crawl up to him.

“Damn, that was really fucking good.” He says a bit dazed.

“A compliment? My goodness, I’m flattered.” You joke, your hand resting on his neck as you look at him.

“You should be.” He says finally catching his breath and flipping you over quickly. “I expect to earn the same fucking praise when I’m done with you babe.” Your eyes widen and you realize that you’re both in for a long night.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam smut #adam smut #hazbin adam smut

[jjunieworld]

24. the beating heart ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ half written, half texts. word count: 4.9k

— SOOBIN’S POV —

soobin sighed deeply as he got into his car.

what more could sakura have? what more could she do to ruin his life and hurt y/n even more than she already is? soobin banged his hand off his steering wheel, causing the horn to honk loudly, scaring a group of people walking by. he pulled out of the parking lot and made his way to sakura’s place.

sakura’s place was different in the daylight and without all of the people and security guards crowding it. he pulled up to the gate and before he could even get out to press the button, it automatically opened. he pulled through and parked his car in the roundabout driveway.

soobin slammed his door shut and walked up to the door. he knocked three times and waited.

if there was something else out there that could hurt y/n, he needed to destroy it while he was here. he’s already done enough to her. she doesn’t need more added on to it.

the door flung open and he was greeted with a smiling sakura, ushering him in. she took him to the fourth floor and into her room, urging him to sit on the bed and wait.

“get to the fucking point, sakura. what else do you have?” soobin spat out angrily as he stood near the door. sakura look back at him and sighed, rolling her eyes slightly.

“remember when we use to be friends?” she replied.

“no, i don’t.”

she came up to him and rested her hands on his bicep. “binnie, how many times do i have to say this. it was for your own good! you deserve to be with someone who’s at the same standards as you! not that poor wannabe who can’t tell the difference between a designer purse and a knockoff from the thrift store.” soobin moved her hands off of him.

sakura inhaled sharply and turned to sit on her bed. “you must want me to post the video of her finding out about the bet for everyone to see. imagine how fun it will be for everyone to get another laugh at it.” soobin’s heart dropped. there’s no way a video exists of that, right?

“poor little y/n, couldn’t keep up with the big shots and went tumbling. how sad.” sakura continued, a pout on her lips. it took everything in soobin not to lunge at her.

a thought of realization crossed soobin’s mind. sakura was lying. if she had a video of that night, it would’ve already been posted.

“you’re lying,” soobin firmly stated. the smug smirk on her face faltered briefly, but long enough for soobin to notice. it was his turn for a smirk to cross his face.

“if there was a video, you would’ve posted it already. you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. in your own words, ‘you like putting people in their place.’” anger flashed across sakura’s features as she swiftly stood to her feet. “what am i really doing here, sakura. and cut the shit. looking at you right now is pissing me off more and more by the second. what is your issue with y/n?”

the anger then turned into a sickly sweet smile. “you understand me so well, binnie.” she came up to soobin and wrapped her arms around him. or as well as she could since his arms were crossed against his chest.

“everything i do, i do for you! can’t you see? i did all of this so we could finally be together. we belong together. we always have.” she cupped his face with her hands. “i love you, soobin.”

she reached to pressed a kiss to his lips but soobin harshly pushed her off of him. sakura fell to the ground, landing hard on her butt. a hurt expression paints her features as she stares up at him.

anger buries soobin as he digs his fingernails in the palms of his hands. “you’re fucking delusional if you ever thought there would ever be a world in which i love you, let alone fucking like you. we’re done, sakura. don’t ever contact me again.” soobin stares her down to make sure she finally gets the message.

furious, sakura slowly rises to her feet, keeping eye contact with soobin. “you will regret this.” soobin raises an eyebrow, “will i? i’ve already done the thing i regret the most. this is nothing. once i leave here, i won’t even give you a second thought.”

he could tell his words cut her deep as the furious expression fell flat. all that there was left was pain. soobin didn’t care, it serves her right. he turned to leave and felt as she ran up to him, clinging onto his side.

“she will never be able to love you like i do! she’ll never understand you and know you like i do!” sakura frantically said. tears were streaming down her face, messing up her makeup. “we’re a match made in heaven, and you know it! you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

soobin pushed her off of him again, causing her to stumble backwards. “you’ve never known or understood me at all. can’t you see? you mean nothing to me. and y/n…? she means everything.”

soobin left her there, clinging to the edge of her dresser, sobbing loudly. he made his way outside to his car and drove off. all he desperately wanted to do was see y/n. to wrap his arms around her and hold her close to him.

soobin needed to figure out some way to show y/n how much he was genuinely sorry. how much that video didn’t actually reflect who he is. soobin needed to show y/n how much he truly and deeply loved her.

an idea crossed his mind. he knew just the thing.

it’s been days since your birthday. days since your heart was ripped out of your chest and stomped on. days since you’ve last seen soobin. and it didn’t hurt any less. if anything, it hurt more.

not that you’ve been helping yourself out. all you’ve been doing was looking at old photos and videos, rotting away in your bed in either his sweater or his hoodie. today was the sweater, the one he gave you on your first date. it didn’t smell like him anymore since you’ve washed it, but the fact that it was still his gave you comfort.

you got up from your bed. enough was enough, you at least needed some fresh air. deciding to take a walk, you slip on some actual clothes, deciding to keep his sweater on.

as you made your way out of the dorms, you didn’t really have an idea on where to walk to. maybe around the corner and back? that sounded good. you inhaled the crisp air deeply. the wind flowing over your skin.

you can tell soobin has been giving you space. the way he lingers when he sees you, words on the tip of his tongue. him leaving classes later than usual so you’re not on the same elevator. in the hallways you can feel his stare on you, gently caressing your mind. you just want to go up to him, take him into your arms, and kiss him until you run out of breath. you want, for just once, to close your eyes and see the two of you happily together. instead of that godforsaken night.

sighing, you put your headphones in, deciding to drown out the nature sounds around you.

there’s a deal you can make on a midnight walk alone. look around, listen close, hear it fall from above.

you wish that you could go back to before any of this even happened. to when he was still yours and you were still his. instead, you have this empty spot where your heart use to be.

it will ask what you’d give and what you’d take for it in return. i once went on such a walk and i found that i’d said…

it’s not that you had no idea where it had gone. you knew deep down that your heart was next to his, placed gingerly together, beating for him. maybe in another world you had his heart, instead of the hollow corridors that now occupy your chest.

you inhaled sharply as you tried not to let your tears fall and continued on your walk.

“i want someone to take this soul. i can’t bear to keep it, i’d give it just to give and all i will take are the consequences. will somebody take this soul?”

as you rounded the corner back to your dorms, your body felt extremely heavy. besides the couple of tears you shed, you haven’t really let yourself fully cry. break down and fall onto your knees dry heaving cry. clutching your chest as you try to form words that you know aren’t there, that you know can’t express the pain, cry.

you knew you desperately needed it, but it’s as if your body refused to let you crumble. like some sort of hope was still keeping you glued together, every last little piece. you couldn’t understand it. what hope we’re you holding on to?

the hope that you’ll wake up, still next to soobin in your bed on your birthday, and realize that this was all some horrible dream? a nightmare your mind created? that this was all part of some other elaborate plan and at any moment everyone will pop out of the shadows?

you had to be realistic with yourself. this is your life now. and you will never be able to move on, to take back your heart, if you don’t let yourself fall.

there’s a deal that i made. there’s a deal…

did you even want your heart back?

you step to the door of your dorm room and sigh inwardly. you go to unlock it to find that it’s already unlocked. your brows furrow, but you think nothing of it. it must be my friends, you think.

oh how you were wrong.

you push your door open and are suddenly face to face with soobin. your breath hitches in your throat as you stand frozen. it’s as if you were transported back to that horrible night. those same heartbreaking eyes staring back at you.

your friends were right, soobin’s face does look fucked up. maybe not as bad as it was before, but you can definitely see the remnants of it. his left eye is patchy with green and yellows. splotches of purple cover his nose. yeonjun was disappointed to hear that he didn’t break it, only slightly cracked and bruised it. his beautiful lips had a deep cut in them. all you wanted to do was take his face in your hands.

his eyes were slightly red and there were deep bags under his eyes. his hair stood in various directions and you could tell he’s been running his fingers through it. you just noticed that he was holding a bouquet of flowers. cornflowers, white tulips, and orchids with a singular red rose in the center. you wished you didn’t swoon at it all. you also noticed the brown bag on your nightstand filled with who knows what.

he walked up to you carefully, making sure to stop a couple feet away. “y/n, please just listen to me for a mome—“

“how did you get in here?” you cut him off. you were sure you locked the door before you left.

soobin rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck. “i picked the lock… i watched a couple youtube videos… i’m sorry, i’m just now realizing how creepy this all is.” you take out your headphones and shove them into the pocket of your jeans. he follows the motion, lingering on your top.

you mentally smack yourself. you’re wearing his sweater. your face heats up as you cross your arms, trying and failing miserably to cover the sweater.

“can we please talk?” soobin finally says after a long moment of silence. you sigh and shut the door. you walk past him and sit on your bed, motioning for him to sit across from you on the other. he does just that.

soobin then gingerly hands over the bouquet of flowers. “for you,” he says softly. you hesitate before taking them. you stay quiet as you tuck the flowers close to your chest.

he looks at you, defeated. “will you say something to me? anything? please… i can’t bear your silence.” you look at him blankly for a moment before turning to the bag on the nightstand. “what’s in the bag?”

soobin lights up briefly at your voice and reaches for the bag. “they’re sweets! i made them for you. was up all night making them actually… you like a lot of stuff so i made a bunch of different things since i couldn’t decide on one thing.” he rambled. he handed you the bag.

you took it with furrowed brows. “soobin, what is this?” you can practically see his heart leap at you saying his name. or maybe it was yours, you still weren’t sure. “you think you can break into my room with flowers and homemade baked goods and everything will be okay again?”

he raked his hands through his hair. “no. i know that isn’t going to fix things.” he took the bag from you and sat it back on the nightstand, then took the flowers and placed them in the empty vase on your desk. he sat back on the empty bed and looked down at his hands for a moment.

“i know i said i was going to give you the space and time you needed, but staying away from you is driving me crazy. everytime i close my eyes i see the way you looked at me that night. the way your heart broke right in front of me…” finally, soobin met your eyes, “i would do anything to change what happened. anything. can we please just go somewhere and talk? and after this, i’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want. but i can’t go on with my life without you knowing how much you mean to me. how much you’ll always mean to me. please y/n… please just talk to me and let me explain everything.”

you held back the tears in your eyes, held back all the pain and the memories with him being in front of you brought up. anger was the only thing that was left. “what more could you say? what could you possibly say that will explain every interaction between us being for a stupid bet?”

anger clouded you as you tried to push away the pain. “that all of this was just a game to you? to them.” you shook your head at yourself, more in disbelief and disappointment.

“oh, how naive i was! how naive i was to think that you, choi soobin, the golden boy, the boy who everyone loves, would ever fall for me. i should’ve listened to my friends when they tried to warn me about you. when they tried to tell me that nothing good would come out of this and to be careful. maybe i wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

you clenched your fists at your side and inhaled sharply. “but no, i was just so happy that the guy i was head over heels for would even give me the time of day. i thought, “no, soobin doesn’t seem like that type of guy. he’s different.” how fucking wrong i was.”

“please, y/n—“ you cut him off with a raised hand. “how wrong i was to think that everything between us was real. that the morning of my birthday was real. that you love me.”

“it was real! all of it was real for me, y/n. i swear to you. i love you.” soobin said desperately.

tears fell from soobin’s eyes. he slid to the floor in front of you on his knees. he put his forehead to your lap and desperately held onto your hands. “please y/n… i’m begging you. just let me do this one thing. let me explain everything to you and you’ll never see me again.” you can tell that your cheeks were now wet with fallen tears as well.

you wanted to run your hands through his hair and out of his face. wipe the tears from his face and tell him how much you still love him. but you couldn’t.

you wiped the tears furiously off your face and tried to breathe. it was haggard. you could feel your hands shake under his. it’s been days since you’ve been this close. days since you’ve last touched.

you inhaled sharply. “this is your last and final chance. your only chance… to explain this to me. to explain why you would do this to me.” he looked up to you, his eyes redder and his cheeks wet. you saw the hopeful gleam in his eyes. “to tell me if everything between us was a lie. to tell me if you ever actually loved me.”

soobin rose heavily to his feet, he still held onto your hands. reluctantly, he let go of them. you saw how his hands twitched after. “will you walk with me?”

the two of you ended up walking side by side together for a while. you can tell he was leading you somewhere from the deliberate turns that he made. the sun was just beginning to go down, pink streaks of color breaking through the blue sky.

you were walking through a path connected to the woods. you were by the park he took you to when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. the path broke out into a small isolated clearing and you froze in your tracks as you held your breath.

in front of you was a field of cornflowers, your favorite flower. you put a hand to your mouth as you looked around. soobin looked back at you, noticing the fact that you weren’t beside him anymore, and stopped to watch you take in the scene.

you noticed there was already a small blanket laid out in an empty part where there were no flowers. gently, soobin took your hand and guided you there. you sat down a little bit away from him and tried to focus on the conversation that you were about to have. you played with the end of his sweater as you waited for him to speak.

“i just want to start by saying that i’m really, really sorry y/n. about all of it. about even agreeing to the bet in the first place, about breaking your heart for the first time when i took my anger out on you, and about breaking your heart for the second time when i kept the whole bet aspect a secret from you and ultimately having you get hurt in the end. i didn’t want you to get hurt, i tried everything in my power for it to not happen. but a relationship built on lies will fall eventually, and i kept trying to seal the cracks with more lies.”

he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before continuing. “so here is the complete and utter truth. the day we first spoke, by the elevator, that wasn’t by chance. i waited to speak to you, i even made up a lie about taking a sociology class so i could meet you at the cafe later that day and have you “help” me figure it out. then i proposed the dinner idea so i could get the bet rolling.”

you looked down to the blanket you were sitting on and squeezed your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. you knew it. deep down, you knew it.

“that was the first and last thing in our relationship that i ever did for that bet,” soobin said. you looked up to him to find he was already staring at you. you had a hard time believing his words.

“i know you don’t believe me, but i swear to you i’m telling the truth. when we had our first date, it’s like my eyes were opened. you’re everything that i ever wanted, and i knew from the moment i took you back to your dorm room and we kissed that i severely fucked up. i was already harboring feelings for you and i didn’t understand them because nobody has ever made me feel the way that you do. so that’s when i ignored you and everything at sakura’s party happened.”

your mind flashed back to those events. you drunk texting soobin and asking him why he’s ignoring you. his hurtful words. you telling soobin to meet you at the cafe and him explaining his feelings for you like he’s doing now.

“by then, i was barely speaking to… my friends…” he trailed off. he didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that they weren’t his friends anymore. “i told you, i wanted to keep you all to myself. the way they spoke about you… it made me so angry that if i were around them for any longer someone would’ve ended up dead.”

soobin shook his head slightly to clear the emotions. “for a while, i forgot all about the bet. until one day taehyun asked me when i was gonna stop pretending that i wasn’t in love with you.” he breathed in deeply as if he was reliving the conversation. “it felt like my world came crashing down around me. that was when i truly knew that it was over, that i couldn’t pretend that the bet was never a thing.”

you breathed in shakily. “were you ever going to tell me? or were you going to keep going and let me figure it out on my own?” you asked him.

“the night i came to your dorm, when jake and hueningkai caught us together, i was going to tell you. i was. but the words got stuck in my throat and i just couldn’t. i couldn’t hurt you.”

“you not telling me and letting me find out in front of everyone on my birthday hurt me more. you let me be humiliated all because you couldn’t own up to what you’ve done.” anger laced with the pain in your voice.

he closed his eyes at your words and his eyebrows knitted together. “i know,” he said, low and soft. “i know. and i’ll never forgive myself for letting that happen. and i’ll never forgive myself for watching you get hurt in front of everyone. and i’ll never forgive myself, ever, because i can never take back what happened. and i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry i can't take it back and change the way things happened.”

you didn’t want to ask him, but you had to know. you had to know the truth. “did you ever love me?”

his answer was immediate, “yes. of course, more than anything. i still love you more than anything. i will always love you more than anything. that’s never ever going to change. i love you so much that words can’t express how i truly and genuinely feel for you. everytime i’m away from you my soul calls out to yours and everytime i’m with you it sings from how complete it is. i love you, y/n. and i’m sorry that i ever made you question that.”

soobin scooted closer to you, but stopped himself before he got too close. his body sagged and it looked like the weight of the world was holding him down. “and my words may mean nothing to you, but please know i mean it with every fiber of my being when i say this… i’ve meant every word i told you. every touch, every kiss, every longing look… i meant. and no matter how much i wish i could turn back time and change the past, once again, i can’t. i can’t fix the past, so please y/n… please let me try and save our future. you already have my heart and forever it will beat for you.”

you wanted to stand in front of him so you could look down on him and tell him the truth. how your chest is empty. how the only thing that echos through it are all the mistakes he’s made. how there’s nothing there. but quietly, tucked away behind the door you locked all your feelings in, you heard it.

the beating heart. his beating heart. you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. the tears that turned into full blown sobs.

and finally, what you’ve felt like you’ve been waiting for for a lifetime, soobin held you in his arms. you buried your face in his chest and heard your own heart beating back to you.

and soobin was right, with him, you felt complete. “and you have mine,” you whispered. he wrapped his arms around you tighter.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, in the clearing surrounded by cornflowers, until the sun went completely down. until only the moonlight could guide you.

soobin walked you back to your dorm and in front of your room you hesitated. you were exhausted and no doubt your eyes were puffy from all the crying you did. you turned to him, running your hands through his hair and getting it out of his eyes. he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, sighing softly. you brought your hands back to your side and took a deep breath.

“i love you, soobin. and i want us to work, you don’t know how desperately i want us to work. but i still need time. i need time to process everything that has happened today, and i still need to process everything that happened in the past—“

soobin quickly cut you off. “i’ll wait however long it takes. i’ll wait until the end of the world if i have to. as long as you don’t take your heart away from me. let me have it, let me keep it safe. i promise i will keep it safe.”

you sighed and he put his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes as you resisted the urge to press your lips against his. for once in the days since your birthday, you didn’t see painful memories when you closed your eyes.

“this is the last time. you don’t have any more chances after this,” you whispered. “keep my heart safe.” you pulled away and went to turn to enter your room but soobin grabbed your arm.

he placed your hand to his chest and put his hand over it. he looked longingly at you and then took a step back. you knew what he meant. forever.

you went into your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as more tears fell from your eyes. you buried your face into your hands and tried to stifle your sobs. ultimately, you decided that after today you needed long, hot shower.

when you came out of the bathroom to get dressed, you were shocked to see more of soobin’s hoodies and sweaters laying with your clothes. there was a note on top of them.

if you decide you don’t ever want to talk or see me again, at least take these. even if you throw them away, i will at least get to be with you in some way one last time.

deciding that you don’t want to shed anymore tears today, you slipped one of the hoodies he left for you on. his scent surrounded you and you had to lean against the wall next to your dresser for support. you dug your hands into the pocket and found that there was another note. it was addressed to you and was slightly worn.

to my beautiful beautiful y/n,

i love you more than there are stars in the sky. your smile shines brighter than all of them combined. with you, i’ve never felt more alive. i’m just glad that i get to call you mine.

— binnie, your love

p.s. sorry if this is cheesy… i can't wait to let you know how much you mean to me.

your hand covered your mouth as you brought the note close to your chest. he must’ve written this when the two of you were still together, but when? you examined the small note further and noticed a date written in the middle of the back of the note.

it was from the day you caught your friends spying on your date at the diner. you didn’t know whether to laugh at how cheesy the note definitely was, or cry at the fact that he loved you all this time. did he mean to leave this note in this hoodie?

as you examined it further, you realized it was the hoodie he was wearing that day. and the note was written on a ripped off piece of the menu from the diner. it had to be by accident.

you gingerly placed the note inside a drawer in your desk for safe keeping. you then laid on your bed and wrapped the hoodie around you tighter. you just couldn’t believe everything that has happened today.

your heart—his heart—swelled in your chest. finally, you nodded off to sleep, dreaming of you and him under the stars in a field of cornflowers.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: one thing about me… i’m gonna write a long ass love confession😁 literally was possessed by shonda rhimes herself for it lmao early chapter for all my babygirls, you’re welcome!

taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @binluvsu (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

#📼 — ALL FOR A BET ⸝ ˚⋆ #txt #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt smau #tomorrow x together #txt beomgyu #txt huening kai #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #txt taehyun #txt social media au #tomorrow x together social media au #choi soobin smau #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #soobin x y/n #soobin #kpop social media au #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop smau #le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim sakura #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #tomorrow x together imagines

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the annihilation

lilac, chapter eighteen

a/n: this chapter is very short, but on the bright side i am posting the next chapter next saturday.

summary: “I swear to god I’ll fucking do it! If I can’t have her, no one can.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, angst, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kidnapping, crying, violence, murder, blood and gore

word count: 516

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

There were blood splatters across Frank’s skin and even though the clothes he wore were as dark as the night sky on the other side of the tall windows, you could still tell that they were soaked. However, if it was his own or someone else’s, that you could not decipher as Preston’s knife threatened to pierce your jugular vein. 

“Drop the knife!”  

Pressing the sharp blade just deep enough to draw a drop of your blood, Preston warned, “don’t get any closer!”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Frank rumbled, “easy, easy!”

“You want me to put it down?” Preston’s laboured breaths fanned across your tear-stained cheek, “you first.”

Seeing Frank’s left eye twitch lightly, he grunted, “just let her go.” 

“I swear to god I’ll fucking do it!” Preston roared, causing you to let out a shuttering shriek in his hold, “if I can’t have her, no one can.”

The muscles in Frank’s jaw jumped and danced a moment before he finally said, “okay, alright,” keeping his voice clear and steady as he complied, lowering his pistol to the floor, “here,” and then held his hands up in the air, at the height of his head.  

What transpired next happened in a blur.

As soon as the knife slowly began to lower from your throat, in a split second, Frank had whipped out another gun, hidden and tugged away at the small of his back, and shot point blank.

Preston’s body flopped back onto the bed, staining the already crimson sheets with his gore. 

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even breathe. You just stood there, violently shaking, as your unfocused stare hazily noticed Frank tug his weapon away before stepping closer. 

When he got near enough, you didn’t so much embrace him, but actually fell into his arms. A brutal tidal wave of emotions tumbled over you as you let out a grave sob, your arms still uncontrollably trembled down along your sides as his strong ones enclosed around you like a warm woollen blanket. 

As your aching tears stained his shirt, brazenly mixing and mingling with whatever else tainted the dark fabric, you didn’t care one bit if it marked you as well. Eventually, as he cradled your quivering frame close, your right hand found your other in a desperate attempt at ridding yourself of the shiny band that burdened your ring finger.

But as your shaky efforts jaggedly went on without success, words frenziedly crawled their way out of your throat, “g–, g-get–… get it off me… get it off me, get it off me, get it off me!” and he swiftly moved to triumphantly slip it off and toss it to the floor, his own digits not in shock like yours were. 

You sucked in a large gulp of oxygen as soon as he pulled it off. Like you’d been drowning and this was your first breath of fresh air. 

As you let yourself crash back into his arms, the paralysing emotions pummelling you to shreds, Frank’s soft whisper found your ear, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

[aemondsbabe]

The Queen

summary: dairy/letters & lingerie kink || alicent stumbles across a secret of yours and is more than happy to make it come true

pairing: modern!alicent x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, pre-established relationship, dom!Alicent, sub!reader, queen honorifics used in the bedroom, lingerie kink, use of a leather crop, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.3k

a/n: happy day seven of 12 days of smuff!! i went into a fugue state and wrote 10 pages in 2 hours. the hold that olivia cooke has on me should be studied by science. anyway.

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @olliviacooke

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Alicent’s POV

She was humming, swaying her hips to a new album she’d downloaded earlier that week as she smoothly moved the duster along the wooden surface of your nightstand, careful as she guided it between the lamp and the small potted plant you loved so much. Getting a bit too into the music she was listening to as she tidied up your shared bedroom, though, she accidentally bumped against the growing stack of books on your nightstand. 

“Shit!” Alicent hissed as a few went tumbling to the ground. Sighing, she bent down to grab them, half-heartedly cursing you for insisting on buying new books before you’d finished the ones you had. 

“Huh?” She wonders outloud, pausing the music on her phone when she sees her name scrawled in your familiar handwriting. Her fingers brush over the soft, leather bound book as she picks it up, her lips pursing as she reads the words “Personal Journal” embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering. Her brown eyes widen and quickly glance around the room, despite the fact that she knows she’s the only one home. Biting her lip, she runs a finger over the spine of your diary, weighing her options. On the one hand, she knew it would be a horrible invasion of your privacy to look but… well, what if it was something important? 

She shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t going to be one of those snooping partners! You already told her everything anyway, it’s not like there would be anything in your diary she didn’t already know! You were basically an open book, in fact, it was one of the things she loved most about you – your willingness to be so honest and transparent. 

No, she thought, carefully setting the diary back on your bedside table, I’m not going to! I’m simply – 

Okay, sue her. She’s only human and her name was right there! She’d make it up to you. 

Glancing around one more time, she flipped open the leather-bound book, flipping through it to the page she’d spotted a moment ago. She found it pretty quickly and nervously bit on a nail as her eyes scanned over the page, noticing the date first. It was from only about a week ago. She read on.

I’m not even sure how to bring up the topic, it doesn’t really seem like something you’d just bring up at the dinner table? Like, “Oh, honey, yeah work was great today! Kevin from accounting is finally getting married, I know! Can you believe it? Oh. yeah, one more thing! Can you boss me around in the bedroom like a drill sergeant?” I mean, come on. 

What if she isn’t even into it? What if she wants to be the submissive one? I don’t think Alicent’s totally vanilla, I mean, there have been so many sparks of… something. Sometimes she tells me to do something, usually innocuous like making sure the door’s locked before we leave or to get the laundry hamper from the closet but… God, the way she says it makes me shiver. And when she’s talking on the phone to someone at work? That authoritative voice makes me melt. 

Sigh. I just need to find the courage to ask. 

Alicent finally finished the entry and looked up from your journal, blinking as thoughts raced through her head. After a minute, she closed the notebook and placed it carefully back on your bedside table, just like it was before it fell off the table. 

She could barely keep the smirk off her face as she grabbed her purse and keys and shut the front door behind her, a devious, delicious plan quickly forming in her head. 

She knew exactly how to make up for her actions. 

Reader’s POV

You sigh as you unlock the front door, quickly tossing your keys into the small bowl on the entryway table before kicking off your shoes.

“Babe?” You called, furrowing your brows at how unusually quiet the house was. Alicent’s car was in the driveway and normally she’d be playing music by the time you got home but today… nothing. You’re about to call out again when the sound of heels clicking down the hallway makes you stop in your tracks, your bag falls from your hand as your girlfriend finally appears from around the corner.

“Good day at work?” Alicent asks coolly, tilting her head as she leans against the doorway. Meanwhile, you feel dumbstruck as your eyes scan over her appreciatively, taking in every dip and curve as if you’d never seen any of them before. Your eyes skim over her outfit, a black, lacy bustier perfectly framing her chest, with a matching black thong clinging to her soft hips, fishnet stockings held up by an enticing garter belt, all the way down to black, pointed toe heels. She’d even taken the time to straighten her usually curly hair, smoothing it down into a clean, nearly intimidating style. 

She smirked, brown eyes sparkling at your awe-struck expression, smiling when your eyes finally landed on her face; you couldn’t help but swallow when you saw that she was wearing that expensive red lipstick she only brought out for special occasions, the one you love so much. 

Her heels click on the wood floors as she strides over to you and it’s only then you realize that she has something in her hand – a black leather crop. The sight of it makes your knees weak. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” she says gently, locking eyes with you as she gently cups your cheek with in her hand, “It would be rude not to answer.” There’s a hard edge to her voice that makes you lose what little train of thought you had.

“I… uh,” you stutter, blush rising to your cheeks as you stare helplessly at her, fighting to keep your gaze locked on hers, “W-Work was good, yeah. Same as… as usual.” You finally finish, your chest already heaving as you rub your thighs together, desperate before you even know what’s going on. 

“How wonderful,” she smirks and leans in, giving you a sweet kiss like she normally would, but today it has your head spinning, “What do you think of my little surprise?” She asks, though there isn’t really a question in her tone – she already knows your answer.

“I love it,” you breathe, hardly giving her time to finish speaking as you let your gaze wander over her yet again. “What, uhm,” you cough nervously, “What gave you the idea?”

She smiles again, shrugging; you nearly jump out of your skin when she softly runs the leather crop up the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and stopping tantalizingly close to your core. “Just got the sense that maybe you’d be into it…” She says casually, like you’re talking about the weather, “Was I right?”

All you can do is nod your head, but that’s not good enough, apparently. Her eyes narrow and she wraps a hand around your neck, not too harshly, mostly just sitting it there but it’s enough to make you whimper in the back of your throat, breath catching as her perfectly manicured red nails just barely dig into your delicate skin. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to address me, is it?” She coos, a faux pout to her lips. 

“N-No,” you say shakily, your eyes searching hers, “No… ma’am?” You try, inwardly cringing at how your voice squeaks. 

She clicks her tongue like a disappointed mother, the sound going straight between your legs, as she fixes you with an intense stare. “Baby, you know how I sometimes call you princess?” She asks, smiling proudly when you eagerly nod, “Well, tell me. Who’s more in charge than a princess?”

Your throat goes dry and you swallow thickly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips before speaking. “T-The queen?” You ask softly, pride feathering out in your chest like the train of a peacock when she smiles and nods again.

“That’s right!” She praises, almost as if she was speaking to a child; perhaps you should be offended at her condescending tone, but, if anything, it just makes your heart beat faster. “The queen. Do you want me to be your queen today, sweet one?” Again, you nod, so she continues. “So, address me properly.”

“Yes, my queen.” You breathe the words, core clenching softly around nothing. 

“Very good,” she praises, leaning in and lightly brushing her lips over the pulsepoint on your neck, “Do you want to keep being a good girl for your queen?”

“Yes, your grace, please.” You say with an eager nod, feeling like you’ll explode if she doesn’t touch you, or so something soon.

“Then be good for me and go to the bedroom,” she nods as she speaks, her big brown eyes looking directly into yours, “And strip.” She finishes coolly, leaving you no room to argue. 

You nod quickly and practically leap down the hallway, blushing when you hear her giggling behind you. As soon as your feet hit the soft rug in the bedroom, you tug at your clothes, quickly shedding your sweater and work trousers before unclipping your bra and sliding your underwear down your legs, haphazardly shoving everything into the hamper because you just know she’ll say something about the mess if you don’t. Finally, not knowing what else to do, you stand by the bed, arms clasped in front of you.

She doesn’t make you wait long and you bite your lip in anticipation as her heels click slowly down the hallway, smiling shyly when you finally meet her gaze again as she enters the room. Just like you knew she would, her eyes immediately dart to the hamper and her smile widens when she sees your clothes from today resting on top. 

“What a good girl I have,” she praises as she saunters over to you, her hips swinging enticingly as she moves. Without another word, she sits on the edge of the bed and gently places the crop down next to her on the bedspread, before she beckons you over with a crook of her finger, “You like your queen’s special surprise for you, huh?” She questions, tilting her head as she peers up at you, her hands resting gently on the curve of your hip. 

“Yes,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to her cleavage before you can help yourself and it’s only then that you notice that she’s breathing nearly as hard as you are, a blush extending down her pale neck and chest, “I love it, my queen, so much.” You nearly whisper, dizzy at the thought that she might be enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“Don’t you think you should thank me for your surprise, princess?” She asks coolly, smirk widening as she sees a look of realization in your eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, please,” you nearly beg, already tempted to sink to your knees.

She smirks at your eagerness, all but laughing when you whine as she pushes herself back further, out of your grasp and into the center of the bed, making enough room for you in front of her. Again, she crooks her finger and you hastily follow after her, kneeling between her fishnet-covered legs. With another smirk, she silently spreads her legs, bending them at the knee enough that the heels of her shoes dig into the bedspread. 

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as you let your gaze travel down, between her legs, where you’re met with the shocking realization that the black thong she has on is indeed crotchless. Your eyes stay glued to her center, now beautifully framed by two strips of lace fabric; the sight makes you lick your lips without thinking, taking in the way her folds shimmer, even in the low light of the bedroom. Finally, you manage to rip your gaze away and lock eyes with her again, your blush deepening at the hazy look in her eyes as she leans back on her elbows. 

“Go on, princess,” she breathes, that familiar, aroused rasp finally present, “Thank your queen.”

You spring into action, wrapping your hands around her soft thighs as you lean in, kneeling between her legs. Your eyes flutter as you look up the length of her body while you press soft, sweet kisses to the inside of her thighs, your eyes widening when you see her lean over and quickly grab the crop. 

You jolt as she brings it down, smacking one ass cheek with it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave behind a pleasant little zing. “I don’t believe I asked you to tease me,” she admonishes, a playfulness to her tone still as her other hand brushes into your hair, red nails scratching soothing against your scalp, “Thank me properly.” She commands, guiding your head to exactly where she wants it.

You’re more than happy to obey and you press a kiss to the center of her folds, right on her clit, moaning against her as you feel it twitch against your lips. She lets out a breathy moan as your tongue licks a long, straight line up her center, right down the middle, before your lips gently seal around her bud. 

Your eyes flutter closed again as you softly suck at her clit, moaning lowly in your throat at her familiar sweet taste. You move in just the way she likes, kissing and licking over her heat with a practiced ease, pride blooming in your chest with every moan, whine, and sigh of your name. You shake your head against her, attempting to bury your tongue in her twitching core as the tip of your nose teases her clit, your chin dripping with her when you finally pull back. 

“Princess, fuck,” she breathes above you, head tilted down so she can watch as you feast on her, “Fuck me, come on.” She orders, giving another sharp little spank to your bum with the crop. 

You do as she says, smiling as you flick your tongue over her bud while you glide two fingers through her folds, making sure to get them nice and wet before you slide them carefully into her, relishing the long moan she lets out as you do. You can’t help but whimper as her walls clamp down tightly, pulsing around your fingers as you crook them up in the way you know she loves, your lips sealing softly around her clit again, eyes fluttering as you watch her chest heave. 

“Good fucking girl,” she whimpers, accentuating each word of praise with another slap of her crop against you, the pleasant sting you clench around nothing, “Make your queen come, princess, good girl.” She moans, tilting her head back as you redouble your efforts. 

Your arm aches as you fuck your fingers into her, keeping them quirked up against that small rough patch within her, but you pay it no mind, focusing only on the hand in your hair and the taste of her in your mouth, your hips canting desperately in the air. 

You flick your tongue against her bud once more, in just the right way, and it sends her over the edge with a gasp. You moan into her as the hand in your hair tightens and her walls rhythmically squeeze against your fingers, nearly tight enough to push them out. You move steadily, bringing her through her high as you have so many times before, only stopping when she finally goes lax against you. 

You press kisses against her thighs and hips as she comes down, breathing heavily above you. Eventually, the hand in your hair tightens once more, and you sigh happily as she pulls you up. 

“You did so good,” she praises softly, her voice breathy as she presses her lips against yours; she moans softly as your tongue licks into her mouth before she pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, “So good for your queen, my sweet princess.” You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as you straddle her, one of her legs between yours.

Your eyes shoot open as she bends her leg, pressing her fishnet covered thigh firmly against your center with a knowing smirk. “Goodness,” she gasps, her beautiful brown eyes widening once she feels how wet you are against her, “I think you deserve a reward too, for treating your queen so well.”

“Please, holy shit,” you gasp, your hips already moving on her leg, the pattern of her stockings adding a delicious friction, “P-Please, your grace.” You quickly correct yourself when she brings her crop down once more, making your back arch. 

“Good girl,” she whispers, mouthing at your neck. She lets the crop fall to the bed again as she cups your ass with both hands, guiding your hips as you move against her, “Take what you need, princess, you earned it.” She breathes, smirking as you shudder above her. 

You nod mindlessly, swallowing thickly as you already feel the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, each drag of your clit over her stockinged thigh sends shockwaves up your spine. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier as you get closer and she smiles happily, bouncing her thigh against your wet core in the way she knows drives you insane. 

“My beautiful little princess,” she whispers, red lips ghosting over your chest, “Behaving so well for her queen.” 

You fall apart once her lips seal around one of your nipples, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as she carefully sucks the sensitive bud into her mouth, gently teasing at it with her teeth. Your body tenses up as your walls clench again and again, your fingers grabbing at the sheets as you gasp her name. 

Finally, your eyes flutter open as your high subsides. Thankfully, you have just enough presence of mind to roll to the side, cuddling against her as your chest heaves. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe through a small laugh, your face flushed as your eyes meet hers. 

“So, you liked it?” She asks, a shy lilt to her voice now that both of you have had the chance to come down. 

“Liked it?” You question, staring at her wide-eyed, “I… I loved it. That was incredible.” You breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, “Where on earth did all that come from?”

She giggles softly, a guilty look appearing on her face. “Promise you won’t be too upset with me?” She asks softly. 

“Of course,” your reply is instant as you card your fingers through her soft hair, “Just tell me.”

“I was cleaning a few days ago, when I had that day off,” she explains, swallowing as you nod along, “And I… may have accidentally knocked your diary off the table and then got curious when I saw my name and… yeah.” She finishes, teeth biting at her lower lip. 

Your face reddens a bit, instantly knowing which entry she must’ve seen, but you merely shake your head, about to tell her not to worry about it when she starts speaking again.

“I do feel really bad about it,” she sighs, continuing quickly, “I know it’s a breach of trust but I saw my name and then… I’ll make it up to you, I pr – !” 

She gasps as you cut her off with a sweet kiss, shaking your head dismissively, “Consider it made up.” 

“You aren’t mad?” She asks hesitantly.

“Mad?” You echo, laughing softly, “My sexy girlfriend bought ridiculously hot lingerie, and a riding crop, just to surprise me and fucked me to within an inch of my life and I’m supposed to be mad at her over a little diary?” Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles as you finally finish, nuzzling happily against each other, “I think not.” You quip, smirking as your eyes search hers. 

“Okay, yeah,” she says with a small eye roll, “I am pretty great, huh?”

“And oh so humble,” you laugh, pressing kisses over the curve of her shoulder before leaning back to smirk at her, “Your majesty.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x you #alicent hightower fanfiction #alicent hightower fanfic #alicent hightower smut #alicent #alicent x reader #alicent x you #alicent fanfiction #alicent fanfic #alicent smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #12 days of smuff

[violentdelights-violentendss]

Bath Time

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Tangerine

Synopsis: You successfully manage to drag Tangerine into a bath after a long and strenuous job.

Requested by: I lost the username…I’m so sorry!!!!

Warning: Nothing.

(So sorry this is maybe too short and very bad, but I just wanted to post something to show you guys I’m alive and currently working on all your requests!!! Please send many many more! I love writing all of them!)

You were cooking in the kitchen, making a plate of carbonara for yourself. Tangerine’s necklace was heavy in between your breasts. He always left it with you when he went on jobs.

The bacon sizzled in the pan, making you come back from your memories. You took one out of the pan, dropping it in your mouth. The juicy flavor covered your tongue, even if scorching.

As you hummed along to the song playing on your phone, the door squeaked open. Instantly, the music was too loud and the sizzling of the bacon hurt your ears. Fear slithered down your spine, freezing you.

Dry and heavy steps started trudging towards you. Silently, your hand shaking, you grabbed the knife on the counter, stepping quietly towards the wall of the kitchen. You gripped the knife just like Tangerine had taught you to do, ready to stab the intruder that had come in your home.

The steps were getting closer to the kitchen. Your hands started trembling even more, and you clasped the knife tightly to not drop it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shape flickering closer. Without waiting, you twirled away from the wall, ready to attack the man.

“Darling?” Called a familiar voice.

Slowly, you opened your scrunched up eyes. In front of you, Tangerine stood in all his bloodied and exhausted glory. His clothes were covered in blood, and the bags underneath his eyes were bigger than when he had left. Your trembling knife was pressed against his throat. The knife tumbled from your hand, falling at your feet.

“Tangerine?” You stuttered, fear still clawing your jaw shut. The man didn’t reply, but wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, hiding his tired face in your neck. You didn’t hesitate to embrace him. You didn’t care that the blood, his or someone’s else, was soaking into your white shirt.

He stayed silent for a second before you heard his tire voice croak out, “Missed you, love.”

“I missed you too,” you whisper back, holding him tightly against your chest. You inhaled his perfume, letting your hands tangle in his curls. “Come on, we have to get you in the bath.” You gently grabbed his hand, supporting his fatigued body and carrying him towards the bathroom. Tangerine followed limply, his feet dragging on the floor.

You reached the bathroom, heaving and panting, delicately sitting Tangerine down on the toilet seat. His eyes were glazed and his head hung low. You spun towards the bathtub, flicking the tap open and turning it to choose hot water, which soon started pouring into the bath. Grabbing one of the bath bombs you kept tidily on the side, you dropped it in the water, watching as it dissolved, turning the water a sunset pink, the room now smelling like roses.

As the water gurgled, filling the bathtub, you knelt down in front of Tangerine. “Darling, I’m going to start undressing you.” You whispered calmly, not wanting to trigger his fight or flight responses: it had happened once when he was in this state and it had not been pretty. Tangerine didn’t seem to see you, but your words must have gotten through to him, his head nodding slightly.

You started unbuttoning his vest, slowly peeling it off his sweat-covered body, gently folding it. Then came the button-up shirt that was splotched with blood — a gruesome painting. You reached his pants, unbuckling his belt. You tugged them down with the boxers, helping him to stand so he could safely get into the bathtub.

Tangerine let himself be moved, as if he were a puppet, once loved and now forgotten. He sunk down into the water, leaning heavily against the side of the tub, eyes pointed to the ceiling, lost in memories of the mission you were sure were going to haunt his already tormented dreams.

You quietly started washing the encrusted blood off his face, body and hair, humming a quiet lullaby to soothe his tired mind. After a while that Tangerine had been soaking, listening to your quiet voice and feeling your warm touch on his skin, he seemed to snap out of his daze, slowly blinking awake. “Hey, Tan.” You welcomed him back, watching as he seemed to come back alive, warmth flushing his cheeks.

Tangerine looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time, his eyes starting to glimmer with tears when his heart realized he was safe. Immediately, you were pulled into his arms, and into the water, simply embracing him as tightly as he needed. “God, I thought that…for a minute, during the mission, I wouldn’t make it back.” He croaked in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips, his tears falling onto your lips, running down to nestle on his necklace.

You shivered at just the thought, pressing him closer. “You’re here now. You’re here. Safe.” You said, gently rocking Tangerine in your arms, hoping to reassure him.

You stayed, embraced, in the cooling water for hours. When you later tried to move, Tangerine simply held you closer, pressing soft kisses against your neck. You sighed, getting comfortable, knowing it was going to be a long night. But you were ready to be there as long as Tangerine needed you, and Tangerine loved you till the end of the world and back: you two were going to be together for all eternity.

#bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine x y/n

[pseudowho]

Pen-Pals

He was your first boyfriend. You were his first real connection with someone outside the Jujutsu world. And it's not that he intended to catfish you...he really didn't.

Note: THIS IS NOT A "FURRY" STORY. ITS A HEARTWARMING TALE ABOUT THE READER FINDING A PLACE IN JUJUTSU SOCIETY, THROUGH HER PENPAL, PANDA 🐼

SFW, fluff, a bit of angst.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were fifteen, when you got your first boyfriend.

At least-- you saw him that way. He was your penpal, first. Your...oddity had left you lonely. Isolated. Friendships were hard, and functioning like you didn't see monsters on every street corner, every underpass, was even harder.

With numerous psychological assessments before the age of ten, seeing your mother and father in tears outside the Psychiatrist's office...no. It would not do. You told nobody else after that, simply living in your haunted little world, head down, desperate not to be noticed by them.

You soothed yourself to sleep every night, imagining lilac clouds and fields of wildflowers, instead of blackened fingers closing, bone-brittle, round the edges of your wardrobe.

He went by 'Panda'-- a cute pseudonym, and how he had signed off all of his letters, ever since you had matched with him on the Pen Pal Seeker website.

And how you loved him. Despite his dreadful handwriting, his thoughts were sincere, warm without being patronising, funny and abstract in the most oddly conversational way. He poured his heart out to you, and you to him. You yearned to know him better, but delighted in the mystery of a secret lover.

Panda had just a father, one older brother and one older sister. He went to a boarding school. He took hand-to-hand combat as a sport. His best friend was quiet, but tough and kind.

And he saw the monsters too. At first you were doubtful, your pen hesitating on the page. Do I tell him? He'll think I'm a freak. I probably won't even get a letter back...you told yourself all this, as you wrote yourself bare to him. As you posted the letter. As you waited, chewing your nails to stubs, certain you had royally screwed up.

The clatter of the letter box. Your frantic footsteps tumbling down the stairs, shoving your father aside-- "hey kiddo, where's the fire?"-- to reach the stack of post first, seeing your name in his hand--

...and his words. Oh, you loved him so.

You're not alone! I can see them too. Lots of us can at my school. Try not to let them notice you looking...

You kicked backwards onto your bed, the letter pressed to your chest, one arm over your eyes as you kicked your feet in glee, trying not to cry.

It was settled-- you had to know him. You had to meet him.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Skipping school the next day, you felt like everyone around you on the street knew it. You felt like a criminal, hitching your bag over one shoulder, keeping your gaze downwards as you spent your savings on a train ticket to Tokyo.

The train journey was full of blushing imagination, running through how you would greet him, again and again and again, each time stupider and more embarrassing than the last.

Hey, Panda, it's me. Hi Panda...how've you been? Boo! Ahaha just kidding...unless--

As your footsteps carried you along your phone map, glancing up and down to see yourself wander into the tree-shade hush of outer-Tokyo...your coming here became a worse and worse idea.

What were you thinking? Panda was going to think you were absolutely mad! You didn't even know his real name. He might have been some sixty year old creep just pretending to be a kid like you. What if he wrote to loads of girls? What if he gave you one look and was embarrassed by what he had been writing to? What--

You stood at huge wooden gates, encircling a beautiful stack of traditional Japanese buildings, winding away up the rolling hills. Your finger hovered over a buzzer. You tasted copper as your teeth bit into your lip, bubbling over with internal conflict, before stabbing down on the buzzer, greeted by a shrill ringing.

A voice-- "Name, please?"

You stuttered, announcing your name. Silence on the other line. You elaborated.

"Panda, uhm-- I'm here to see Panda. About...about the monsters. I'm...I'm a friend."

Silence...clickcrrreeeeeeeak.

You stepped back, gripping your bag like a shield as the gates heaved slowly open. Hesitant footsteps crunched over gravel, carrying you in. You had not thought about the particulars of actually finding Panda, and you gazed around you, stumped.

You stood to attention, seeing two figures move down the twisting stepped path ahead of you. A girl, stern, bespectacled. A boy, tired-looking but friendly, with big dark eyes and a white funnel-neck collar. They saw you, and shared a glance, before stepping over. The gates swung closed behind you.

The girl didn't waste any time; "How do you know Panda?" she demanded, one hand on her hip, eyes narrow through her glasses. You gulped, feeling dizzy from the volume of strange power rolling off the boy beside her.

"I...we...he writes to me. To each other. We write to each other." The boy's eyebrows quirked up in surprise. He looked to the girl with a light smile. The girl scowled.

"I didn't know Panda could write," she grumbled. You blinked, once, confused and beginning to feel nauseous, the boy's presence alone crushing in on you--

"Hey..." the boy started gently, stepping closer to you, "...maybe-- maybe you should go? Panda's not really good to see anyone right now-- oh hey-- Maki--"

You had lurched sideways, retching on the gravel as the boy held you gently round the waist. Maki looked unaffected, continuing to frown down at you as you sniffled, hiccuping, mortified, of course he didn't want to see you--

"I'm sorry you're right, I should just-- I'll go I just--" you babbled, standing and stepping back, the boy letting go of you hesitantly, warm brown eyes cut with genuine concern, "--he just-- he said he could see the monsters like me and I--"

The boy and the girl both paused, mouths dropping open in...realisation? The girl, Maki, slapped the boy on the shoulder with the back of her hand, and he crumpled like wet tissue; "Dull it down Yuuta...you're making her sick."

"I think...you should come with us, and uhm....meet Panda," Yuuta offered, rubbing his shoulder and smiling softly at you. You sniffled, glancing between them both.

"...really?" Your heart clenched, hopeful, excited.

Walking between them, up the twisting path, you did not yet realise you had found your new home.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"How much do you...know about Panda?" Maki asked, seated opposite you in a dusty wood-panelled classroom.

"Oh, uhm...he goes to this school. He has an older brother, an older sister, he practices martial arts..." you continued to reel off your relationship with him, enclyclopedic. At each point, Maki seemed to be waiting for something that never came. Her face was set in a grim line.

"Panda's not like the rest of us," she stated, blunt, "And I don't know if you'll--"

The door slid open. Yuuta poked his head in, catching your eye with an uncertain smile.

"Panda's here. He can't wait to meet you." You stood up, smoothing your skirt, twisting your hands together, straightening your hair. Maki and Yuuta glanced apprehensively to each other.

"Just, uh...just don't scream, yeah?" You frowned at Yuuta, laughing;

"Why would I scre--"

As a full-grown Panda walked into the classroom, shrieks rang out of the windows across Jujutsu High.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Sat by the little brook, you sobbed your heart out, your face being gently dried by an enormous black and white paw, the other round your shoulder, holding you against--

"-- a literal Panda! You're a fucking Panda!"

Maki shook her head disapprovingly behind you both, glaring at Panda; "I can't believe you pretended to be human--"

Panda gaped, appalled, "I never told her I was human!" Yuuta laughed into his hand, struck by the bizarreness of the situation.

"Of course she'd assume you're human--"

"-- I don't like to assume what you humans think, but anyway, she's smart and kind and I knew she wouldn't judge-- stop laughing, Okkotsu-- can you guys just leave us alone? For a minute?"

You laughed despite yourself, patting Panda's enormous paw, engulfed in his behemoth furry embrace. Yuuta stood, gently dragging a still protesting Maki away. Silence fell. The river whispered down the stones. The sunlight softened in the rustling leaves.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you. I just...liked talking to you. I've never had someone who-- who didn't know what I-- ...I'm sorry," Panda finished, weakly. You blinked back tears, wiping your nose.

"...it's okay. I'm the same. And you're the best person I-- my favourite person-- you've helped me with so much and I love you--" Panda's ears perked, and he looked down at you with joy.

He continued, gruff with emotion; "It's the right thing that you're here, though. You need to learn more about these monsters. Maybe you can even stay."

It was your turn to look at Panda with joy.

You sat in companionable silence, delighting in the company of a new friend. You hesitated again, your cheeks scattered with pink.

"Can you uhm...can I still say you were my first boyfriend, though?"

Oh. If pandas could blush.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Many years later, tied to a chair in the dank Curse users' hideout you had infiltrated, you smirked to see the men around you step backwards from the door in horror.

Beyond the door, an incoherent din of bestial roars, men screaming, furniture smashing. One of the men beside you squeaked in terror, clapping a hand over his mouth before grabbing you roughly by the face.

"What is-- what is that thing? Out there?" He demanded, shaking with terror. You laughed, your face squished in his hand.

"That's my ex-boyfriend. He's called Panda, he's 6 foot 7, and he's here to fuck you up."

The door flew off its hinges with a metallic bang, and the men around you scrabbled to run for their lives. A hulking mass of black and white filled the doorway.

"What are you guys doin' to my girl, huh?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I don't know where this came from, but I love Panda 🐼

#jjk #jujustu kaisen #panda jjk #jjk panda #maki zenin #yuuta okkotsu #Panda x Reader #Never thought I'd make that fucking tag #pseudowho #pseudowho writes fluff #jjk fluff

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Ten

Note - almost there 😭 I feel like you guys have had enough now so I’ll post the last two chapters next week so we can move on 😂 but I hope you like seeing this side of masey 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.3K

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

You knew Mason could tell something was up with you as soon as he got home from training. You smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and as you stood cooking dinner for the pair of you, you didn’t ask him anything about his day or let him know how yours was. You were distracted, the only thing on your mind being what you’d discovered earlier.

He knew you’d come to him when you were ready so he didn’t push. You didn’t come across as upset to him, more unsure and curious about something so he let you mull things over knowing that when you went to bed you’d hopefully spill.

He pulled you into his arms immediately when you finally got in, dropping a kiss against your forehead as he held you close and you pressed your nose into his neck to ground yourself as his scent always calmed you. You could feel yourself holding him tighter than you usually did but he didn’t seem to mind, holding you back just as tight.

‘Hey baby? You don’t have to tell me but whatever’s troubling you, you can always speak to me about it. I know I’m not the brightest crayon in the box all the time but you know I’ll always try for you’ he murmured into your hair and you laughed at his attempt at comfort.

‘I know, Mase. Thank you’ you laughed, squeezing him a little tighter before you both settled back down again.

It’s not like you didn’t want to tell Mason what was going on but something was stopping the words from coming out of you mouth so you just laid there for a bit until it came tumbling out of before you’d even thought about what you were saying.

‘It’s my dad’ you said quietly, waiting to see if he’d react in anyway but he remained the same, wanting to let you continue and you took a breath before carrying on. ‘He sent me a message last night. I saw it this morning’

‘I see’ he nodded, stroking up and down your arm but you could tell he was a little stuck on what to say. ‘What did he say?’

‘I haven’t actually opened it. It was on Facebook and I haven’t been on there in months but I saw on my emails that I had a message pending and I saw his name’

‘Do you want to open it?’ He asked quietly and you shrugged your shoulders unsure of if you did.

‘Would you read it for me?’ You asked him quietly, feeling him nod his head on top of yours but you felt sick to your stomach about what it might say.

‘If that’s what you want then of course I will’ he reassured you and you quickly grabbed your phone so you could unlock it and find the message before passing the phone to Mason and snuggling back down into his chest.

‘Ready?’ He asked and you nodded before he started to read.

You didn’t know what to say, your whole body going numb as you replayed the words in your head and you didn’t feel Mason put your phone down and wrap his arms around you until you felt his lips on your cheek.

‘You okay?’ He whispered, fingers now tracing your lower back in an attempt to comfort you and you nodded to let him know you were fine even if you felt anything but. ‘We can talk when you’re ready, yeah?’ He told you, tears finally stinging the backs of your eyes and you let them fall freely hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Why now? What’s changed? Did he need something? Was he sick? Was he homeless?

‘Hey, baby’ he whispered sympathetically, trying to move so you’d look at him but you weren’t having any of it. ‘It’s alright, love. I’m here’ he whispered. Pulling you closer and rubbing his hands up and down your back to comfort you.

It took you a while, but you eventually found the courage to speak. You didn’t pull back to look at him and you weren’t even sure if he was asleep yet but as you spoke softly you felt him hold you a bit tighter.

‘I’m just a bit confused, it’s so out of the blue’

‘What do you think you’re gonna do?’

‘I don’t know’ you sighed, pulling back a tiny bit so you could look at each other and even though he was looking at you sympathetically you didn’t feel like he was pitying you. ‘I guess I’ll have to message him back tomorrow’

‘If that’s what you want’

‘Well it’ll be rude if I don’t and he’s been waiting for a reply’

‘Well no, just forget about him for a second. What do you want to do. This isn’t about him at all it’s about you and your feelings’ he told you, your body tingling at how much he cared. ‘Also when we first met you’d ignore me for days so don’t start with that shit’ he teased, ticking your side playfully in an attempt to get you to smile and even though you tried not to you couldn’t deny him, letting a small chuckle pass your lips. ‘Have you ever thought about seeing him again?’

‘Maybe in the back of my mind I guess? I have a lot of unanswered questions but I made peace with the fact I’d probability never know the answers. He left so there was no way I was going after him for him to reject me again’

‘That makes sense’ he breathed ‘but he said he’ll wait for you. You’ve got time to think’

‘I guess, I’m just worried. Like why after all this time? It makes no sense. I think I’ll sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning’

‘That sounds like a good idea. And if you still don’t know we can have a nice day tomorrow with my family and forget about everything until you’re ready’

You’d forgotten about tomorrow, the pair of you going to his parents house for a bbq with all the family. You’d met them all a few times now, having been together almost a year at this point, and you were a lot more comfortable around them but the thought of now having to sit with his happy family whilst yours was a misery made you a bit upset and you could tell he’d noticed.

‘We can cancel tomorrow if you want, you know if it’s too much?’

‘No Mase, I want to go’ you reassured him before he dipped his head to kiss you softly. You didn’t realise how much you needed his kisses right now so you reached up to hold him there until you needed to pull away so you could catch your breath. ‘Let’s go to sleep yeah? We need to be up early tomorrow’ you told him and with a final kiss you settled down.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night and it felt as if you blinked and it was morning. You still didn’t feel any clearer about the message from your dad, choosing to ignore it as the pair of you got dressed and ready to make the trip to Portsmouth.

The drive was pretty quiet, the only noise being Masons music softly playing in the background as you stared out the window and thought over what to do. It was a huge thing to think about but you were glad you had Mason to bounce off of and even though you knew he was trying to take your mind off of everything you could see the worry behind his eyes.

Once you were at his parents, Tony requested to come and help him with the bbq as you’d be a better hand than Mason but when Tony went inside to grab a glass of water you completely zoned out, not even realising Tony was back and trying to talk to you as you were so caught up with what to do about your dad.

‘You alright there, y/n. You look like you’re in a world of your own’ Tony laughed so you shook your head slightly but you felt your face heat up out of embarrassment.

‘Sorry Tony, I’m fine’ you smiled, brushing everything off but a little voice in the back of your head told you to keep talking. ‘Actually, can I talk to you about something?’

‘Of course’ he smiled, and you felt a small weight lift from you as you figured out what to say.

‘Did Mason tell you anything about my family?’ You asked and you watched him frown a little before shrugging his shoulders.

‘He said you weren’t close but not much more than that. Don’t think he wanted to over step’

‘Well he’s low balled quite a bit’ you laughed, flipping over the first burger and smiling when you didn’t drop it. ‘My dad left when I was 12 and I haven’t spoken to my mum in years’ you confessed but you didn’t have the heart to look at Tony’s reaction. ‘My dad messaged me the other day, asked if we could meet and talk. I’m just a bit unsure of what to do’

‘We’ll do you want to see him?’

‘I’m not sure, on one hand I do but I guess the other part of me doesn’t want to be let down again’ you told him and you felt him nod at you sympathetically. ‘I wanna ask you a difficult question and I’d appreciate it if you could answer me honestly’

‘I’ll try’ he laughed.

‘What would it take to make you pack up and leave your children? And just never speak to them again?’ You asked and you could tell he was shocked and a little bit stumped. ‘You’re a father and I’m just trying to get into his mindset. Like how he could do that to me?’

You heard him let out a big sigh before wiping over his head like he was thinking.

‘No family is perfect y/n, our family should be proof of that. Things don’t always work out but I wouldn’t change what I have now for the world. Having said that, there’s nothing that would keep me away from my kids’ he told you honestly and you could feel your heart breaking a little bit even though you’d asked for it. Before you knew what was happening he placed his arm around your shoulders and patted your arm in a loving manner which you appreciated. ‘I’m not him though, so maybe it’s best you ask him’

‘I want to, I’m just a bit…’

‘Scared?’

‘Yeah’ you laughed ‘I know it’s silly’

‘Not at all. He’s let you down before and I bet the thought of a second chance is terrifying but if you want my opinion, I’d say go for it. Then you won’t have to live your life wondering what if’

‘Yeah? You think I should?’

‘Of course. And whatever happens you’ll still have us, still have me’ he smiled causing you to smile back at him even brighter.

‘Thank you, Tony. I really do appreciate you’

‘Well I appreciate you and the way you look after my son. I know he’s a handful sometimes’

‘He looks after me too’

‘That’s what I like to hear’ he nodded before you felt a presence brush up besides you.

‘You two done yapping, I’m hungry’ Mason joked, his hands resting on your waist and you playfully elbowed him in the ribs which caused him to laugh. ‘Sam’s here now he said he can come and take over’ he told you, and after a quick hello with everyone you joined Mason near the table with his sister and mum. You went to take a seat next to him but he grabbed your wrist, patting his thighs as he pulled you onto his lap and you giggled and you wrapped your arms around each other. His lips pressing little kisses on your shoulder before leaning his cheek on your arm.

You knew he just wanted to be close to you but you could feel him underneath you, your eyes widening ever so slightly as you looked at him slyly but the wink he sent you let you know he knew exactly what he was doing.

It was risky, being right in front of his family but he’d started it so you shuffled yourself a little on his lap, rubbing yourself down on him as inconspicuously as you could and you felt him tense immediately. His hands squeezing your sides to get you to stop but you knew it was too late already. He was hard as a rock under you so you smiled at him triumphantly whilst he blushed under you.

‘Y/n? Would you mind helping me bring the salad out?’ Debbie suddenly asked but as soon you lifted your hips from his lap he was pulling you back down.

‘Don’t you dare’ he growled in your ear, feeling his bulge press into you even further as you giggled at the situation. ‘Jaz can you go? I need to ask y/n something’ he asked and thankfully she agreed with no issues. ‘You’re trouble’ he breathed, kissing up your arm softly as he touched you gently. ‘You wait till we get home’

‘You started it’ you giggled, looking down so you could peck him on the lips softly. ‘Go sit to the table properly so you can hide it until it goes away’ you whispered before you stood up together and let him sit and calm down.

Soon enough you all sat down to eat, Mason one side of you with Debbie on the other and Jaz was thankfully sat opposite so you could have a little girly chat and take your mind off the current situation. For as much as you were slightly dreading today, now you were here you were here you couldn’t be more thankful for the people you were surrounded by.

‘Story auntie y/n!’ You suddenly heard Summer yell from beside you, Jaz rolling her eyes with a smile at her behaviour before making her say please but there was no way you could say no to her. For Christmas you’d bought her a collection of your favourite books from when you were a kid and every time she saw you she made you read her one so you knew this was coming and thankfully she’d waited until after everyone had eaten.

‘Go on, love. We’ll get cleared up whilst she’s out the way’ Debbie laughed so you lead summer over to the swinging chair towards the back of the garden and got settled down to read. She followed the words along with her little finger which made you smile and you could see Mason looking at you sparodically with a fond look in his eye.

‘Summer, when you’re done I’ve got Ice cream for you’ you heard Jaz shout and that was all it took for her to jump up and and leave you. You didn’t mind though, thankful for a few minutes on your own, resting your head back and shutting your eyes to you could gather yourself. It was exhausting trying to pretend everything was okay when it to you it felt like things were crumbling around you.

‘Mind if I come and join you?’ You suddenly heard, looking to you left to see Mason approaching you with his hands stuffed into his pockets and you shuffled over before patting the space next to you so he could sit down. The chair was just about big enough for you and Summer so getting you and Mason on it was a struggle, both giggling as the pair of you tried to get comfortable in such a small space. Eventually draping your legs over Masons lap as he turned to you slightly so he could wrap his arms around you. Your head made home on his chest as he rested his cheek on top before stroking up and down your arms gently. ‘You alright over here?’

‘I’m fine, just thinking’ you told him, a big yawn escaping your lips and you felt his chest rumble under you as he laughed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t sleep that well last night’ you confessed and he pulled you to him a little tighter.

‘Why don’t you have a little nap’

‘Cause we’re at your parents house Mase, it’s rude’

‘They won’t care. They’re still tidying up and sorting some things out, just shut your eyes for five minutes baby. I’ll wake you up when they’re done’ he promised and even though you didn’t want to, the gentle feel of his fingertips on your arm and his lips pressing sporadic against your hairline relaxed you instantly. You were close to drifting off off a few minutes later and the feeling of his fingers interlocking in yours sent you to sleep.

You didn’t know how long you were out for but the sound of Mason gentle voice woke you up slightly. He wasn’t speaking to you, you knew that much so you pretended you were still asleep in order to listen to what he had to say. You knew you were being nosey but you had a feeling in your gut that he was talking about you and you were curious.

‘I’m just worried mum’ he said carefully, clearly trying not to wake you but you were way passed that. ‘You should of seen her last night, it’s completely thrown her and I had no idea what to say. I felt useless’

‘I’m sure you did better than you think’

‘I hope so. Whatever she wants I’ll be there for her but I swear to god if he hurts her again I’ll flip‘

‘Oh Mase…’

‘I’m serious, mum. I know what it’s taken her to get where she is now and he he ruins all her hard work then I’ll make his life not worth living’ he told her seriously and your heart fluttered at how protective he was being over you. ‘I haven’t said this cause I want her to make her own mind up, but I do want her to give him a chance. If he can turn everything around then I think having him in her life would be good for her’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah, I mean she knows she got me and you guys now too but sometimes I feel like it’s not enough? Maybe if she had her own flesh and blood be there for her she might look at things differently and feel differently? I don’t know, maybe I sound stupid’

‘You don’t sound stupid Mase, you sound like you care. She’s a lucky girl to have you’ his mum said quietly and you wanted to tell him you agreed with her. That he did make you feel like the luckiest person on the planet that he’d chosen to share his life with you. The he made you feel so loved and cared for that you didn’t know what to do with yourself most of the time and that you wanted to spend every waking second making him feel exactly how you felt and make sure that he knew that he was more than enough for you.

You felt weird pretending like you were still asleep and spying on him so you gently moved as if you were waking up and Mason rubbed your arm affectionately like he was letting you know things were okay.

‘You alright there sleepy face’ he whispered gently and you looked up at him with a smile as you nodded before your eyes averted to Debbie.

‘Sorry Debbie, I didn’t mean to fall asleep’ you laughed, trying to sit up and stretch yourself awake but her kind smile put you at ease instantly.

‘Don’t be silly, it can’t be helped sometimes’ she laughed as she patted your knee. ‘Now I’m gonna go get the desserts ready so I’d be quick or Tony will eat all the good ones’ she winked before going back inside, leaving the pair of you alone again.

‘You feeling better now?’ He asked, dropping a kiss on your nose and you smiled up at him widely.

‘Much. Thank you Mase, for everything. I know I’ve been acting a bit weird’

‘It’s fine, it’s a tough situation you’re allowed to act weird’ he reassured you with a smile before you gave his lips a quick peck.

‘I’ve made my mind up though’ you told him quietly, fear rising in your chest but you wanted to talk to him and let him know your thoughts as soon as you could hoping to settle his mind as well as your own. ‘I’m gonna message him back and see what happens. I think it would be good to meet and clear the air a bit’

‘Yeah? You definitely sure?’ He asked but you could sense the smile in voice.

‘I’m sure. But he’s got one chance, that’s it’

‘That’s my girl’ he laughed quietly, pulling you closer and kissing your head affectionately making you nestle down into his chest more as you blushed. You loved being called his girl and the fact you knew he was happy with your decision made it even better.

The pair of you decided to take a detour home so you could stop by the beach, Mason never really feeling like he’d been home until he’d seen the sea and the fresh salty air did you the world of good. Clearing the cobwebs in your mind as you strolled along the shore, speaking about all that had happened in the last few days and you finally felt ready enough to speak to your father again.

With Masons help, you crafted a message to your dad on the way home, letting him know you’d be happy to meet him soon and you could see he’d read the message instantly which made your heart jump. When you noticed the typing bubbles a few seconds after you quickly locked your phone and sat on it causing Mason to eye you curiously with a laugh.

‘He’s replying already, I’m scared’

‘Don’t be, it’s a good sign’ he reassured you, clearly finding your reaction hilarious and as soon as soon as you felt your phone vibrate you scrambled to read it.

‘Oh’ you said quietly and Masons head whipped round, concern written all over his face as he thought the worst but you sent him a smile to reassure him. ‘No it’s fine, he wants to see me but he can only do Thursday’

‘Okay, thats great. What’s the problem?’ he asked but was talking again before you could answer. ‘Can he only do the morning? Training should be done by two so if we can push him to the afternoon then I’ll get home as quick as I can so we can go’

To say you were confused was an understatement, the whole reason you didn’t want it to be on Thursday was because you knew Mason would be playing golf with Woody then and you selfishly wanted him to come with you. Not that you would ever ask him but it seemed as though he’d invited himself along anyway.

‘No he can do all day, but you’ve got plans Mase’ you said quietly, his face softening before he reached for your hand so he could kiss over your knuckles.

‘Do you honestly think I wouldn’t drop what I was doing? I wanna be there for you and it’s just golf baby, Woody will understand. You’re way more important than all that’

‘Are you sure. I really don’t expect you to come’ you told him even though deep down you were over the moon you wouldn’t have to do this alone.

‘Of course. Your problems are my my problems. When you’re happy, I’m happy. When you hurt, I hurt’ he explained, reaching for your hand so he could kiss your knuckles. ‘I’m coming so tell him Thursday is fine’ he assured you but you wanted to reach over and kiss him so bad. You knew he could tell from the way he was smiling at you so you returned it before you replied to your dad before could talk yourself out of it.

Thursday came around quicker than you would of liked it to but true to his word Mason was home straight after training and you were out of the house by 2:45 to go and meet your dad.

You’d learnt he lived just under an hour away and you’d agreed to meet at 3:30 in a pub that was about halfway between you. You’d arrived around ten minutes early and you sat yourselves in a quiet corner in the huge garden so you could try and calm your nerves.

‘You’re alright, baby. You’ve got nothing to worry about’ he reassured you as he placed a drink down in front of you before kissing the tip of your nose. ‘He’s the one that’s got the making up to do’

‘I know’ you breathed, leaning into his side for some comfort as you giggled awkwardly. ‘I’m still worried though’

‘Let’s take your mind off of it for five minutes then’ he smiled. You began chatting lightly about some anniversary plans he was making for the pair of you even though you told him you wanted to keep things low key. He was looking through a bunch a restaurants when a voice you never thought you’d hear again interrupted you.

‘Y/n?’

You turned to face him, standing up from your seat automatically as you tried to take a breath in. He looked the same but also so much different, older but happier in a weird way and your heart thudded in your chest.

‘H-hi. Yeah it’s me’

‘I thought so’ he smiled warmly as you felt Mason stand up next to you. Your dad took a double take, clearly knowing who Mason was and you watched the way his eyes widened as he took him in. ‘Sorry, are you Mason Mount?’

‘That’s me’ Mason laughed, reaching his hand forward so he could shake his hand as your dad introduced himself to him. ‘I’ll leave you guys to it’ he smiled, looking back down at you with a soft smile. ‘I’ll be inside yeah, just text me’ he whispered before leaving a quick kiss on your cheek and disappearing inside.

‘Mason Mount, huh? That’s gonna take some getting used to’ he laughed awkwardly. ‘You been here long?’

‘About ten minutes’

‘Oh that’s not bad then’ he smiled, both standing awkwardly as you weren’t sure if you should hug or not but thankfully he eventually took a seat opposite you. ‘Did you tell your mum you were coming to meet me?’

‘No, we haven’t spoken in a few years’ you told him honestly and he looked at you with a bewildered expression. ‘When you left, I’m not sure if she blamed me or if I’m too much like you but our relationship suffered and we haven’t spoken since I moved out when I was 17 and that was it really’

‘I’m so sorry’ he breathed, looking down almost as if he was ashamed of himself but you were too numb to feel any sympathy towards him right now. ‘I want you to know of was never you. I was selfish and ashamed of myself for what I’d done by just leaving so I kept away. I know it was wrong and I’ve wanted to speak to your for years but I was scared of being shut out’

‘What like you shut me out?’ You mumbled, watching his face drop even further and only then did you feel a little bit guilty. ‘Sorry’ you sighed but he shook his head at you.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for’ he reassured you. ‘That fact you’re even here today proves to me what type of person you are and I’m so sorry I missed out on watching you grow up. I need you to know that a day hasn’t gone by where I haven’t thought about you and if you’ll let me, I want to explain and hopefully make amends’

So you let him explain.

‘Your mum cheated on me when you were ten’ he sighed and you felt your whole body go numb. He went onto explain that as much as he tried to forgive her he couldn’t and that she’d begged him to stay for your sake so he did but in the end it was too much and he left.

There was no other family, not at first anyway but he’d met someone at work and they’d eventually gotten married. You now had two step sisters that he wouldn’t stop gushing over, showing you their pictures and and letting you know all about their lives and you tried to nod along but you were overwhelmed by all the information that was being piled on top of you right now and you felt like you were about to snap.

‘I um, I’m just gonna pop to the loo’ you told him, quickly running off inside as you tried to keep your tears in. All you wanted right now was Masons comfort and thankfully he wasn’t that hard to find, sat with a group of random guys that had recognised him but he was up and coming over to you in a flash.

‘Baby? What’s wrong?’ He asked, cupping your jaw and you tried to look at him through your blurry tear filled eyes but it was difficult. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No’ you sighed, rubbing your eyes before holding onto his wrists. ‘He’s just told me some stuff I didn’t know and I’m a bit shocked. And he hasn’t stopped talking about his new kids and it’s making me feel like shit a bit’ you laughed but Masons face looked anything but amused by this. ‘I’ll be fine I just need five minutes. I’m gonna pop to the loo and I’ll head back out’

‘You sure?’

‘I’m sure’ you nodded, kissing him softly before he let you go and sort yourself out. You weren’t long but when you figured you didn’t look like you had been crying you made your way back out. Mason was no longer sat with his new friends, in fact you couldn’t see him anywhere but when you took a step outside you realised why.

He was sat talking to your dad, the latter currently with his head down whilst he nodded and thanks to where they were sat you were able to get close enough to hear without them realising.

‘I don’t think you understand how special she is. What a privilege it is to be in her life and you’re blowing it. You can’t just drop bombshells and then parade your new perfect family in front of her. She’s in tears in there’

‘I didn’t mean to, I just… I got so excited trying to catch her up on my life I haven’t really asked about her yet but I was getting there. I never meant to upset her up that’s the last thing I want’

‘Well when she’s back just reign it in a bit. She won’t admit it but she’s sensitive and she wants you to like her. She’s spent half of her life thinking you’d replaced her so you need to make her feel wanted’

‘You’re right’ he sighed and you were about to make your presence known when he started talking again. ‘You really love her don’t you’

‘She’s my everything’

‘Thank you for looking after her’

‘There’s no need to thank me, she makes it easy. Well most of the time anyway’ he laughed, feeling yourself roll your eyes at him for his little dig but he was right. You weren’t easy to love, you knew that. But Mason made it easy for you to love him and hearing him talk about you like he was, backing your corner when you weren’t around made you melt so you shook yourself off and reappeared.

‘Ah, there you are’ your dad smiled as Mason jumped, looking at you like he knew he’d been caught but you placed you hand on his shoulder so he would stay in his seat before holding his hand in your lap.

‘You don’t mind if Mason stays, do you?’ You asked your dad, watching him shake his head with a smile.

‘Of course not. I feel like you two come as a bit of a package deal so I’d love to get to know the both of you’ he nodded and felt Mason squeeze your hand. ‘So how did you meet?’

You have him a brief run down, letting him know about the start of your relationship before your dad started asking about your mum and what life was like after he’d gone.

‘It was quiet. We never really spoke much and I was sort of left to fend for myself at the end. I moved in with my boyfriend at the times family and that was that. I don’t know what’s she’s doing now or who she’s with or anything’

You could see he was apologetic from a mile off and as much as you wanted to let him know how hard it it had been for you growing up without him there was no point in torturing him so you moved the conversation onto your life now. Speaking about your job and letting him know how Freya was. You stayed there for hours in the end and you slowly felt yourself healing ever so slightly.

We’re things perfect? No. Not but a long shot. But you were on the road to heal and with Mason sat by your side you knew whatever happened now you’d always have him.

Mason had training the next day and needed and early night so you couldn’t stay too much longer and thankfully he ran to the loo before leaving so you and your dad could say goodbye to each other.

‘Am I allowed to give you hug?’ He asked, as you stood up, fiddling with his fingers as he was nervous but you opened your arms for him immediately. ‘I really am so sorry, y/n. I hope you know that’ he spoke into your hair but you were so overcome with emotion all you could do was nod. ‘I know I’ve failed you, both your mum and I have really but I’m ready to do anything it takes to be in your life again. And I want you to be a part of mine, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you choked out as you pulled away, rubbing your eyes to get the tears to stop but he’d caught onto them already.

‘You don’t have to say it back or anything, I know it’s a lot, but I love you kid. I’m glad we get to start again’

You couldn’t reply, tears flowing down your face but you nodded in agreement before he pulled you back into a hug.

Not long after your emotional goodbye you were back in the car with Mason and he was just about drive off when you stop him with a hand to his knee.

‘Thank you for coming today, I don’t think I could of done it without you’

‘You don’t have to thank me, I’ll always be here for you. Whatever you need, yeah?’ He smiled, picking your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles but you needed more. Leaning over to cup his jaw so you could pull him into a heated kiss but soon enough you were both laughing against each other lips.

‘I love you so much’ you whispered, not letting him answer before you were kissing him again.

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

#mason mount #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount one shot #mason mount fluff #mason mount story #mason mount series

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: New Hire [4]

previous chapter

Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader

Summary: After escaping your demanding, violent father, you get your first job nannying for Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Manipulation, Obsessive behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Dubcon, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat

A/N: so, as promised, the follow up chapter. it’s not often that this happens, but since it was already sitting there, finished, i decided why not 😂. floral divider by @firefly-graphics​

This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘

You tremble with relief as Ari nuzzles the mark on your neck, running his lips over the taut, scarred skin there. He does it a few times, like he’s trying to reassure himself of your safety. When he finally releases you, you realize it’s not just the other mall-goers watching you. The police have finally arrived, and you watch Ari’s jaw tic as he watches them bundle the man out in handcuffs. 

 The man stiffens at the sight of your Alpha, and you can scent the tang of his fear as he takes him in. Ari’s entire body is tight, tensed like he’s waiting to spring—

 “Sir is this your son?” One of the officers, an older man with a graying beard steps in front of the two of you, blocking your line of sight. “We have some questions—”

 You’re still numb, barely present as the officer reads you the laundry list of  your rights, how to press further charges, what next steps the city will take in his arrest. You can barely concentrate on it, though. You’re still trembling, holding Liam tightly as the officer dismisses you, his words tumbling about in the space between your ears. 

 Attempted kidnapping of a minor is going to be our best bet at holding him. No, no record of him in the system. You’re still jumpy and nervous as Ari walks you stiffly back to the Jeep, his own Bentley parked directly next to it. He says nothing as he pries Liam loose from your hold, and buckles him into the back seat. It’s habit to try and shrink yourself, make yourself small in the face of a displeased male, and you fall back on it without meaning to, looking down at your trembling hands as Ari rounds on you. 

 “What were you thinking, Kitten?” He snaps, and you cower both in the face of his anger and the feel of it in your bond, grating against your senses. “Just yesterday we had that bastard show up at the house, and you thought it would be a good time to take Liam out? Alone?”

 “I, I didn’t think—” 

 “No! No you didn’t think.” His hand is curled into a fist on the hood of the car, and you flinch when he slams it down. Ari blows out a frustrated breath. 

 “Ari…” You pick nervously at the hem of your shirt. “I… I’m sorry. I tried to protect him—” You’re barely managing to hold back tears. “I—”

 “I know you did, Kitten.” Ari deflates a little, some of the tension leaving his body as his shoulders drop, just a little.  “I have… there are people who don’t like me, Kitten. Who don’t like the name Levinson.” He looks back towards the mall. “People who would do anything to hurt me, any way they could.” 

 “More business partners?” You can’t help the way the question pops innocently out of you, and you watch the corners of Ari’s mouth turn up. It isn’t a smile—there’s no happiness bleeding through the bond—it’s aloof, cold. 

 “Something like that.” He drops his hands to your shoulders, gripping them tightly. “You can’t do this again, Kitten.”

 “Are we safe?” Your head is spinning—Ari’s answers only raise more questions. You had no idea who could hate Ari so much that they would try to take his son. “Will they… will they try again?” This fear is familiar, and it dredges up old memories; of times before everything went sour like food left out to spoil. Memories of seeing men with guns, hearing loud, angry voices, your mother telling you not to look, not to listen. 

 It’s better if you don’t know, sweetheart, better if you don’t know anything at all.

 It’s almost infuriating, the way everyone in your life seems to make these choices for you. Deciding what you can and can’t handle while holding the information above your head and expecting you to just be a good girl and do as you’re told. 

 “They won’t try that again.” Ari’s voice holds an air of cold finality that makes you shiver again. “That, I can promise. But I need you to promise me you won’t do this. You don’t go anywhere without me, without someone to protect you. You’re not just anybody off the goddamn street.”

 “I’m… I’m not?”

 “No, Kitten.” Ari tucks a finger under your chin. “Because you’re mine.”

 —

 It’s only late afternoon, but you’re exhausted when you make it back to the house, half carrying Liam upstairs to the bedroom. He refuses to sleep in his own bed, which you can’t fault him for. You get his favorite movie, and start it in the big bedroom, all while Ari talks loudly on the phone in the hallway. 

 “I don’t care. Get him here. Tonight. You think I give a fuck what Cardinas has to say? I pay him good fucking money—”

 You want to know who Ari’s talking to—what he’s talking about. He sounds angry—no, more than angry, he sounds furious. You’ve never seen him like this before. 

 “Do you know how fucking close he came?”  You can’t deny that part of you is almost pleased at Ari’s fierce possessiveness. You’ve never felt wanted before, needed. Like his world revolves around you, of all things. “Good. One fucking hour, you hear me?” 

 An hour for what? Liam snuggles in next to you as the movie starts, his thumb planted firmly in his mouth. Ari comes in from the hallway, carding a hand through his thick hair. He heaves a heavy sigh as he tosses himself down onto the bed. Liam is already deeply engrossed in the movie, so much so that he doesn’t really notice when Ari leans over him to kiss your cheek. 

 You’re exhausted too, your eyes drooping as you sag against Ari’s shoulder. The adrenaline rush has left you wrung out like a limp cloth, barely able to stay awake as Liam giggles at the antics of the characters onscreen. It doesn’t help that you’d gotten practically no sleep the night before, either, and you drift off as Ari rubs soothing circles into your back. 

 You wake suddenly as Ari is moving Liam, his soft snores stopping for a moment as his father picks him up. The sky outside the windows is dark, and you mumble sleepily, trying to sit up.

 “No, Kitten. You sleep.” He taps the tip of your nose with one calloused finger. “Sleep.” 

 When you claw your way out of the darkness again, the bed is empty and long cold. The television in front of the bed is bright blue, the DVD player having shut itself off hours before. Groggily, you roll over and grab your phone, squinting at the brightness of your screen as the digits swim into focus.

 10:30

 You’d slept for hours, and probably even missed dinner—though knowing Ari, “dinner” was more than likely pizza. You stretch before swinging your legs over the side of the mattress. 

 “Ari?”

 There’s no answer from the darkened doorway of the bathroom, or the closet. You tug open the door to find the hallway dark and empty too, save for the sliver of light leaking through Liam’s cracked bedroom door. You peek in on him, satisfied to see him asleep, his stuffed duck held tightly to his chest. Careful, so as not to make a sound, you close the door, and make for the kitchen. There are no lights on downstairs, either, and the living room feels cavernous as you pad across it and over to the fridge. 

“I thought I told you to sleep,” comes the amused voice of your Alpha. The thought gives you pause—when had you started thinking of Ari as your Alpha? Alpha protects us, marked us, keeps us safe. The thought travels up from the primitive mess of your hindbrain, echoing just underneath the noise of your conscious thoughts. 

 “I did sleep,” you point out in a small voice, and a spark of warmth explodes inside your chest at his laughter. It feels nice to be wanted. “I missed dinner.”

 “We had pizza,” Ari replies, and you giggle. 

 “Of course you did.” The entire box sits on the widest shelf in the fridge, and you slide it out, and pull out a lukewarm slice. Ari regards you silently for a moment, and just when you’re beginning to feel self conscious about being the only person eating, Ari speaks. 

 “Kitten, I wanted to apologize. For earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was angry, and scared…You just… you have no idea what the stakes are.”

 “Then tell me! If…” You pause, swallowing. “If I’m good enough to-to fuck—” The curse feels clumsy in your mouth—“t-then I’m good enough for you to treat me like the adult that I am, Ari.” Your words sound braver than you feel, and Ari’s resounding laughter makes you shift nervously. You’re all too aware of his closeness as Ari leans back against the counter. Even relaxed like this, he exudes raw, potent power; and the feral part of you both wants to flee and prostrate yourself before him at the same time. 

 “Trust me, Kitten,” he says with a chuckle, his eyes dragging heavily down your form. “I don’t need reminding.” You swallow thickly, licking your lips. Ari’s eyes follow the movement. “Come, Omega. Let’s talk.” You take two stiff steps towards him before Ari’s arms envelop you, the warm spiciness of his scent making your head go just a little fuzzy. Ari runs his hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing lewdly before lifting you onto the counter. 

 You squeak, your hands fisting in his shirt as your bare thighs meet the cool granite countertop. Ari’s slate blue eyes are twinkling with amusement, his lips parted in a cheeky grin. His fingers trail across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he plays with the loose threads hanging from the unfinished hem of your shorts. 

 “Well?”

 You want to keep talking about earlier, about the men with guns, the man who’d tried to take Liam, but the thoughts seem to wither away as you try to form them into words. 

 “I-I, um—” It’s hard to think with Ari’s hands on you, his voice purring in your ear. “I need to know m-more about you, your l-life—Ari, oh—” He cups your breasts through your shirt, testing their weight. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the way your thighs are spread open around his hips, his breath ghosting across your face.

 “You smell so good, Kitten,” he growls, his beard rasping against your cheek as he drags his lips to yours. “Good enough to eat.” When Ari’s soft, full lips press insistently against your own, you’re already lost, sighing sweetly into his mouth. He groans, tangling his hand in your hair as he tips your head back, plundering your mouth with abandon. 

 “I thought you wanted to have a chat, Kitten,” you feel his mouth curve against your throat, and you’re only a little incensed at his mockery. It isn’t fair, how your body responds to Ari like it’s his, like he owns it—though according to the bite mark on your throat, you suppose he does.  You don’t know how his hands seem to be everywhere at once, tugging on your hair, sliding between you to stroke at your cunt through the seam of your shorts.

 You let out a shameful moan as his teeth scrape against your mark, Ari’s cock presses hard against you through your pants, and he hums with pleasure. 

 “Know you’re wet, I can smell it,” he growls against your skin and your hips roll into his. Fleetingly, you recall your father’s warnings, his fire and brimstone shame-filled rants about whores and judgement, but you feel so good. Your name is falling from Ari’s mouth reverently as he squeezes your hips, and you don’t know how this could be wrong, because it feels holy and right and—

 “Ari!” He chuckles at your breathy sigh. 

 “That’s it, Kitten. Tell me what you want.” You try to bury your face against his throat, but Ari won’t let you, cupping your chin as he strokes your kiss swollen lips with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me.” This time it’s an order, an Alpha command that makes your throat tight. 

 “I-I want you to touch me.” It’s vague but true. Ari hums. 

 “You can do better than that, sweetheart.” Your breath catches a little as his fingers play at the button on your shorts. He pops them open while you squirm. “You’re an adult after all.” You wonder if he can sense the embarrassment setting your cheeks aflame, and you huff. 

  You’re certainly not a child anymore, you’re well into your twenties. In fact, you’ll be kissing them goodbye soon enough—but the nervous, excited feeling tickling your stomach won’t go away, even as you fix your lips to say—

 “I want you to f-fuck me.” It feels clumsy in your mouth. You wish you could look anywhere but at Ari, his eyes hungry and dark. “Ari—” His mouth against yours silences you, and you whimper against his lips. One of his large hands finds yours, uncurling your fingers from his shirt. 

He slides it down between your bodies, and you shudder as you unwittingly skim your fingers over his taut, muscular stomach. Ari wraps your fingers around his cock, pumping it a few times with you before letting go. He’s so thick it’s hard to reach your fingers all the way around, and your cunt clenches embarrassingly at the memory of how he feels inside you. Warm, slick precum beads at his tip, and you swipe your thumb across it, spreading it across his silky, throbbing head. 

 Ari grits his teeth, growling as he ruts into your hand. He forces his thumb between your lips, pressing it down against your tongue. You’re dizzy, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit through your open shorts, saliva leaking out of the corners of your mouth as you stare up at him.

 “Love making a mess out of you, Kitten.” He tugs aside your panties with nimble fingers, a reverent noise leaving his throat as he strokes your slick folds. You whimper loudly as Ari circles your entrance with a careful finger. He clucks his tongue at you as he dips into the tightness of your cunt. “Shh, sweetheart. You want to wake up the whole neighborhood?” 

 You bite your lip, breath hissing between your teeth as you sag against him. 

 “Sometimes I forget how tight you are, Kitten,” he rasps, and you unsuccessfully try to hold back another ragged moan as he adds a second finger to the first. Your fingers twitch around his leaking cock and he bucks against you with a quiet groan. “Open for me, baby. Spread it nice and wide—that’s it.” Self consciously you grip your own thighs, holding them open while Ari takes a step back to admire you. 

 He reaches into his pocket, and you feel your heart speed up at the sound of his knife clicking open.

 “Stay just like that, Kitten,” he instructs you lowly. “Don’t move.” Your heart abruptly slows from a gallop to stand stock still in your chest as he runs the flat of the blade along your thigh. “Like these shorts,” he says, and you hear the sound of popping threads as he traces the seams with it. “I’d like ‘em better off, though.” You release a shuddering breath as cool air ghosts across the folds of your cunt. 

 Ari peels you out of your clothing, dropping the knife on the counter where it glints in the low light filtering in through the windows. The cooling evidence of his lust is still sticky on your fingers as he drags your hips forward on the counter until you’re almost hanging off of the edge. He hikes your legs up around his waist, before yanking down the elastic of his boxers. Ari hisses as the head of his cock bumps against you. 

 You feel drunk but you aren’t, and you know you can’t be in heat again, not this soon. The only explanation is Ari, that he’s making you feel this raw, this alive—

 “A-Ari!” 

 He drags his cock through your folds, growling through clenched teeth. “Yes, Kitten? Tell me.” He pokes at your entrance with his thick, throbbing tip, and you mewl in response. 

 “Feels g-good,” you mumble, unable to break the intensity of his gaze. “I w-want more—” The words dissolve into a strangled moan as Ari presses inside, the stretch a delicious and intoxicating burn that you know you’re going to crave when this is all said and done. 

 “You’re in luck Kitten.” His eyes drop to half mast as he sinks another inch into your tight, willing cunt. “Because I have more to give you.” His thick length pushes the air up out of your lungs in a harsh, needy whine, and Ari’s head falls back as he ruts into you with short, shallow, thrusts. “God, s’like you’re milking my fucking cock—”

 When Ari sinks in to the hilt, you cry out, and he claps a hand over your mouth, chuckling as he presses hard against your cervix. Air wheezes out through your lips and between his fingers as he presses his forehead to yours.

 “Quiet, Omega,” he rocks his hips into you and your mouth falls open behind his palm. Your muffled moans seem to be all the encouragement he needs, setting a deep, steady rhythm. You’re full, so full you could burst, and your every thought centers on the pleasure overflowing from your core. You’re drowning in it, dragged under by the tide, and you can’t even fight it—you don’t want to. 

 His hand drops to your throat, where he squeezes, putting just enough pressure to restrict your air but not enough to hurt. Your lips part, and only a wet rattle escapes. There are words, somewhere, for the unyielding pleasure Ari wrings from your limp body with every jarring thrust, but you can’t seem to find them. The only words your swollen lips seem to be able to pronounce are his name and your pathetic pleas for more, more, Alpha, please—

 You don’t register the sound of popping buttons, the plastic projectiles pinging off of the surrounding walls as Ari tears at your shirt with one hand like an animal, squeezing your breasts with a pleased grunt. You aren’t sure when you were lost, when you’d become a complete and utter slave to the depraved wishes of the knot-drunk Omega piloting your brain.

  You’re so close, your pussy squeezing down on Ari with wet velvet walls. His cock is already beginning to thicken, widening at the base as his knot begins to form. He already barely fits inside you, and you loose a pleased, needy whine at the fresh stretch of it. It’s like there’s fire under your skin, and Ari is happy to keep stoking it, ready to watch you burn bright—

 “M’gonna put a baby in you, Kitten,” He growls the words out against your lips, sucking and biting at the tender flesh until you cry out. “Make it so everybody knows just who you belong to.” Ari bottoms out inside you, his thrusts shortened by the thick weight of his knot. Ari runs his nose down your throat, pressing it into the gland just below his mark as he drives into you. 

 It doesn’t hurt when he bites down, clamping sharp teeth around the already puffy, scarred flesh. Your eyes roll to half mast as your cunt tightens down around him so fast that a choked groan tears loose from his throat. The slick, slick, slick of his cock sliding through your dripping pussy is punctuated by Ari’s muffled cursing, his fingers digging into your hips as he drags you over the edge. 

 You slump against him, crying out as you drown under wave after wave of bliss, Ari’s cock pummeling against your twitching cervix. Your thighs tremble around his hips, and Ari growls against your throat, his teeth still locked tightly in your flesh as you keen and writhe. 

 “That’s it, Kitten,” he praises you as you come apart into a thousand pieces in his arms. “Give it all to me.” You have no choice—Ari drinks in your pleasure like a sponge, his thick cock dragging along your spasming walls as he chases his own end. You’re sobbing, undone as he wrings another orgasm from your trembling body. Your pussy sucks lewdly at him as he ruts into you, and when Ari’s hips finally still, he shudders as he empties himself into your cunt, thick jets of his spend beating against your abused walls. 

 He captures your lips with his own, and you taste the copper of your own blood on his tongue. 

 “Think you can sleep now, Kitten?” He rasps, and you hide against his chest. Though you’re still locked together, Ari loops his hands under your ass, carrying you over to the couch, where he sits with a heavy sigh. You’re already fighting sleep—and losing, dark tendrils creeping across your vision as you listen to the steady beat of Ari’s heart against your cheek. 

 —

 “—should take her upstairs.”

 “She’ll wake up if you move her. Don’t touch her.” 

 “—outside.—“

 You wake up with a frown creasing your features—why are you downstairs? You sit up from the cushions blearily, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand. As if in answer, your cunt throbs, and your face heats. 

 Oh yeah.

 You’d been expecting to wake up in bed with Ari—not alone on the couch. The television is off, and so are all the other lights, and for a moment you just sit there, trying to parse out what had woken  in the first place. Voices, muffled conversation carried on just out of ear-shot. You stand with a groan, your thighs protesting the movement as the blanket that had been draped across you falls to the floor. A peek up the stairs confirms Liam is still in bed, his door firmly shut, and the warm yellow glow of his nightlight leaking out from the cracks. 

 Your face heats as you drape the blanket around your shoulders, disguising Ari’s handiwork. You don’t have to look in the mirror to know your throat is probably bruised like a mishandled peach, and the area between your thighs aches with a sort of pleasurable soreness you aren’t used to. You sniff at yourself as you head for the staircase, your nose wrinkling at the musky scent of sex that seems to drip from your pores. 

 Wait.

 You pause with your hand on the bannister, your foot frozen in midair. There’s something underneath the heavy scent of Ari’s pheromones, the woodsy scent of his cologne—

 Gunsmoke. 

 You whip your head around, suddenly alarmed and unnerved by the quiet house. Nothing is out of place, not a single thing—so why does something feel so…wrong? You turn away from the stairs, padding back across the living room. 

 “Ari?” There’s no answer to your tentative call. “Are you still here?” 

 The kitchen is empty, and your face heats as you pass the island, the scent of your pleasure muted, but still present on the stone countertop. The pool light is on. It’s so dim it almost doesn’t register, the soft blue light flooding over the tiles to wash your feet in cool aqua. You reach for the metal handle, and the door slides open silently. It’s still dark out, though the very edges of the horizon are tinged pink, hinting at the rising of the sun.

 The terra-cotta tiling is cool and slick under your feet, the pool placid and quiet beyond it. The scent of burning metal is stronger out here, mixed with the scent of cut grass and morning dew, but it’s there, and it’s unmistakable. There’s something else too, something that helps new fear curdle the remnants of the afterglow still lingering in your system. The scent of heavy, coppery blood. You round the pool into the patio-area and freeze, your body stalling like a stubborn mule. 

 The man who’d tried to take Liam is on his knees, his face swollen and bruised. In fact, you’re not even sure how you recognize him. He’s taken a beating, that much is clear—blood bubbles from his crooked nose and split lip, dripping down to soak into the already stained t-shirt he’s wearing. You can hear the wet rattle of his breath from where you’re standing. His hands are zip-tied behind his back, hanging at such an awkward angle you know they must be broken too. 

 You try to turn, to look away from the scene searing itself into your retinas, but you can’t, can’t close your eyes, can’t move. The two police officers standing by don’t look particularly concerned as the man coughs up more blood and sags, falling over onto his side. 

 “I’m going to ask you one more time, Jim, and I really hope you’re honest with me.” The familiarity of Ari’s voice cut with the cold, aloofness in his tone sends a massive shiver down your spine, and you clutch your arms to your chest. Ari approaches slowly, his shoes clicking against the tile. A cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth, and he grasps it with two fingers, tapping off the growing ash before replacing it. 

 “Why my son?” He asks. The cool calm dripping from his words isn’t reflected in his actions as he presses his thumb into a sluggishly bleeding wound on the man’s shoulder. He cries out in pain, his voice echoing loudly in the quiet of your suburban neighborhood. “Why Liam?” The man begins to sob, though Ari pays it no mind, taking another deep drag off his cigarette. 

 “Come on, Clarence. You think I like having the boys work you over? It’s messy.” Ari wipes his bloody knuckles off on his own slacks.

 “H-he said w-we need to d-destroy your l-legacy.” His voice is so low, you almost don’t hear it. “P-please…” He’s speaking around broken teeth, blood and spit leaking out from the corners of his mouth as he stares pleadingly up at Ari. “I w-wasn’t going to hurt him, I swear to fucking God, I wasn’t—”

 “Cardinas, call in a 444.” Ari cuts him off, snapping his fingers. 

 “Boss.” You aren’t close enough to read the bronze tag on his uniform, but you’re willing to bet it says Cardinas on it. “That’s an officer involved shooting.” 

 “I know.” Ari replies, disgust lining his handsome features as he takes the cigarette and stubs it out on the other man’s arm. “Because bright eyes here got loose during transport. Grabbed a gun,” he says, holding out his hand. Cardinas undoes the clip on his holster, before handing Ari the gun. “You had no choice.” He raises it, pulling back the hammer. 

 “You know if you do this, it’s war.” The slow drawl seems to cut through the moment, and you squint, trying to see through the early morning haze. “Actual, factual war.” 

 “Shut up, Drysdale.” Ari growls through clenched teeth, cutting his eyes over his shoulder. The other man smirks, shrugging. He dusts imaginary dirt from his cable-knit sweater, before tucking his hands into his pockets. 

 “I’m just pointing out the risks, such as they are.” 

 “I know the fucking risks.” Ari raises the gun. “I think it’s time Quill did a little risk assessment of his own.” 

 The gunshot is quiet, quieter than you anticipated. It’s quieter than the horrible, wet noise of thick blood painting the tile, quieter still than the low noise of disgust Ari makes in his throat. 

 Quieter than the shocked gasp that tears loose from your lips, even as you raise your hands to your own mouth to try and quiet it. 

 “Oh look, an audience,” the man in the sweater winks at you from across the lawn. “Cute little thing—wait. That’s not Randy’s brat, is it?” You fall to your knees in the wet grass, your trembling hands clapped tight over your open mouth as Ari turns toward you with a sigh, carding his hand through his hair. 

 “Oh Kitten.” He crosses the lawn in a few easy strides, before dropping down to a squat in front of you. You flinch as he reaches for you with sticky, copper fingers and cups your cheek. 

 “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.” 

previous chapter                          next chapter

Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library​ for updates and new work, thank you!

Likes and comments are amazing, but reblogs are golden! Please consider sharing my work so that others can see it too!

#chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #ari levinson imagine #alpha!ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson x you #dark!ari levinson #mob!ari #mob!au #mafia!ari #alpha/beta/omega AU #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!ari x omega!reader #New hire fic #boxofbonesfic

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! There is a summary of the first part, here, and second part, here. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! You know when someone is like, soooo mean to you & everyone else is like "I'm sure it's not that bad, I'm sure she's fine, maybe you just caught them on a bad day" and then they encounter them, too, and you can see the light go out in their eyes in an instant? You know that feeling? Well. So does Lou, now.

Read it for free on my patreon! Excerpt below the cut.

“Where did you learn to fight? That knee thing was practiced,” Artie said as she dragged Lou along. “I thought the Pony Express was a reputable institution, not some rough and tumble gang.”

“I got a bad temper and I’m small,” Lou said. She twisted her wrist back and forth, trying to get out of Artie’s grasp to no avail. “People always think they can just pick me up in a fight. I had to learn how to get them to put me down. Usually, people fall down when I do that.”

Artie clicked her tongue and held her free hand out in an exaggerated cockiness. “What can I say,” she said. “I’m fucking good.”

Lou wondered if she could still manage to bite her after all, just because she was annoying. Artie wouldn’t be expecting it anymore. She might be able to get a good chomp in. She dug her boot heels into the dirt a little and made Artie have to pull her harder, which she did without comment.

“You took it really well though, the other night,” Artie said as she continued on unbitten. “You fought good.”

“No, you cleaned my plow. I was groveling and crying in the dirt for you to spare my life,” Lou said. She hated that she hadn’t been able to be tougher. Maybe she would have been hurt worse, but at least she would have had her dignity. 

“Listen, please don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s spoken like somebody who doesn’t regularly have people groveling and crying in the dirt for you to spare their lives,” Artie said. She stopped tugging on Lou’s arm to allow her to skirt around a clump of taller brush before pulling her forward again. “First off, of course you were. And, second, you weren’t, really. You got some real good licks in on me, cowgirl. I was impressed. You should be proud of yourself.”

Here's the summary I almost went with.

#Wasteland Pony Express #katieakipresentsthewasteland #original fiction #original content #oc #Lou #Louetta Primrose #lesbian fiction #interactive fiction #choose your own adventure #queer western #western romance #lgbtq fiction #choose your own path #cyoa #Artie #Reckoning Tehachapi #Holliday #Holliday Bell #Skylark #Skylark Wagoner #wasteland writing #Wasteland Pony Express Update

[heli0s-writes]

You’re Toxic, I’m Slipping Under

Summary: He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it. “See you next week,” he hums.

A/n: To celebrate Glass Onion coming out, here’s ol’ boy Ransom because I hate him so much :) 4.1k words. Warnings: Smut; mild degradation, spitting, daddy kink; classism; Mind Games with Ransom Hour etc. etc. Please stop reading if you’re not 18+

Your whole apartment building seems to rattle when he arrives thirty minutes late. Like raucous fanfare to announce his appearance, the door slams shut, the latch clicks loudly, and then you hear his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

His shoes are still on—of course they are—stomping your floorboards and dragging in dirt. You can practically see them, the usual suede loafers switched out for leather boots with the late fall chill, and probably mud-caked because he’s thankless like that.

With your attention still on your laptop, already irritated because you’ve been attempting a paper that’s only chased its tail for the last three hours, you ask, “Did you misplace your watch, Ransom?”

Turning, you show him you’re the screen reading 8:32 and blink pointedly, “Is that a yes?”

“Don’t be smart,” he snaps back. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your head’s been a mess of fog, body tense and frustrated for days, and although you’ve always prided yourself on tact and grace—patient like a saint—Ransom manages to bring out the worst. You hiss, “Take your damn shoes off, you know I don’t like that.”

You watch mutely as he does so, not without a sneer here, a shitty comment there. He takes three long steps and plops himself on your bed, hands curling into the quilt, thumbs brushing over the patchwork fabric disparagingly. He pinches a loose thread and begins to pull, tugging slowly at first, and then finding joy in unraveling a line of stitching until nearly three inches rip apart.

“I always thought you needed to replace this thing.” He twirls the string disdainfully, “It’s ugly as sin.”

He pretends he doesn’t know how you obviously love this quilt—handstitched and affectionately made, your damn initials are embroidered into the corner, after all. He’s made a game of testing your patience, gleefully punching at every button as he tries to get you to snap.

Ransom Drysdale Thrombey. You’d met him at one of the Thrombey’s family… functions. Dysfunction, you’d muttered under your breath when Walt beat his cane against the floor in a drunken tirade and Meg ran out back to wolf down a pot cookie that she was supposed to be saving for later.

She was on the cusp of a panic attack, words tumbling out like a car crash, her hand in her beret, then hair, then trembling over her maroon-painted lips.

“God, I’m so sorry— I thought we could just make a pit stop before heading out. The food’s always catered and really good— god… it’s a fucking mess.”

You waved her off because it’s not like you haven’t witnessed at least one aunt having a meltdown during holiday dinner before— family’s just like that—and tried to placate her with, “Can’t be worse than the cousin who asked if we’d be scissoring later.”

Meg’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, ew! Fucking Jacob! He’s a skeezy little incel— I swear he’s a moderator on one of those internet forums where they post revenge porn and upskirt vids— honestly, he was adorable two years ago. Then I guess he went through puberty and got radicalized on Youtube.”

You paused as she lit a cigarette and inhaled furiously before realizing that the two of you were thinking of two entirely different cousins.

“I meant the big one, Meg. This one went through puberty twenty years ago.”

“Ew, Ransom,” Meg frowned, “That’s even worse.”

“Ransom? What is he, a Disney villain?”

Leaves crunched behind your back and Meg looked up from flicking ash into the yard toward the sound.

“Let’s be honest, I’ve got the face of a leading man.”

Meg blew smoke at him, as if the fumes were enough to threaten his sensibilities. You figured not, he looked like a cigar smoker anyway—one of those guys who’d dedicate a whole room in their house with the humidity just right to keep them fresh. Rich people shit.

“Go away, Ransom,” she said, to clarify.

“I don’t recall addressing you, Megan.” He took a drawn-out look, lips pursing in scrutiny before lifting a brow, making a real goddamn show about it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite. 400 on the dresser for an hour; you can get yourself something nice.”

You’re still not sure what it was about either your attire or attitude that allowed him to conjure up such an offer.

Maybe it was your shitty jeans and your sweater from freshman year orientation. Maybe you looked like an easy mark to tear down.

His audacity shocked out a laugh from you—a loud, abrupt guffaw that eased Meg enough for her to dip back inside to grab more from her stash. And when she was out of sight, focused on rummaging in the old clock, you responded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll bite back.”

Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your background in contrast to all this excess. The bitter aftertaste of eating bottom shelf food out of necessity for weeks at a time—those awful chicken bouillon packets and dried blocks of instant noodles your first year of college. No one paid for your schooling or housing so learning to balance an over-abundance of classes and a job because you needed to graduate early, needed to spend less money on tuition, meant that you were working yourself to death.

If Youtube radicalized Jacob, then habitually sleeping three hours a night in the campus library and skipping meals to afford textbooks while men like Ransom crashed Maserati’s for fun radicalized you.

So, sure. Game on.

He picked you up the following weekend without anyone knowing and took you somewhere expensive. It was a whirlwind of exorbitant dinners and being quietly sneered at down the straight line of his tall nose bridge. The front door to his bachelor pad shutting but not bothered with locking. Falling into the thousand-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets naked, the skylight’s beam spilling like gold-flecked champagne.

You promised yourself it meant nothing. Just an experiment of unbridled spite. If he wanted to throw money at you, hell, that’s his problem. If he wanted to fuck you, well, you’d give him the best fuck of his life— let him see that despite wealth, at the end of the day, he was flesh and blood trembling for the right stroke.

And sure, he trembled, but it was your mistake to pare it down so simply.

Ransom juggled fuck buddies much longer than you’d been fucking at all. He knew it was best with the right amount of emotion involved. Just enough to yearn. If he laid roses at your feet, kissed your knees featherlight and worked his way up to your jaw, cradled the back of your head, nosed the pulse of your wrist, your collarbones, asked for your eyes on him, and panted the lightest breath of your name at the edge of it all—now who’s fucking who over, sweetheart?

You were out of your depth. He was powerful, older, and more experienced. He touched you in ways that emulated affection—that brought fire and danger. His hands were large and callused at the juncture of his fingers. His pretty mouth was pink, wet, kissed greedy. His sharp eyes took everything in.

But, as you predicted, his moods soon volleyed in every direction as consequence of never being told no, and once the novelty of crazy hot—often angry—sex grew stale, you crashed back down to earth burned out. You ghosted.

“You’re, what…” he called through the door the week after you texted that it was both too much and not enough to carry on with, “breaking up with me? Seriously. This is a fucking joke.”

And you could have practically seen it—how his bottom lip would jut out as his incisors crossed, how his brows would sink when he got angry. He was never belligerent, only calculating.

You told him to leave, and he did, after a single loud kick to the frame, because he’s never begged for anything, and he wasn’t going to start.

The guilt came afterwards, with the bouquet of roses on the doormat, petals scattered around because he’d slammed them down after being ignored again and again, and you swept them inside to throw into a vase next to the three other vases with flowers in various degrees of wilted.

“Breaking up” prickled complicatedly in the middle of your chest, because despite the many shows of affection, you knew you weren’t exactly breaking up. You had never really been with him anyway. People aren’t… with Ransom. They’re towed along by Ransom, dragged by their hair by Ransom. Played with by Ransom until he inevitably gets bored.

It devolved into needless melodrama. Weekly episodes of a teen show with grandiose gestures of toxic relationships perceived as romance. Ransom’s habit of whisking you away, fucking you senseless, turning around to fight with you about any-goddamn-thing he pleased. Dropping off flowers and champagne. Restarting the whole process.

It wasn’t healthy—isn’t healthy, probably, according to most therapists—since he’s here, present-day, in your room, beginning to undress.

You fiddle with the sleeves at your elbows, thumbing cool satin before advancing, arms subconsciously crossed.

He’s only in his underwear now. A pair of nondescript gray boxer briefs fitted on his muscular thighs, taut as he leans back on his palms. He slowly spreads his legs, inviting you between them. His lips purse when you stand passively, knee brushing his bulge, hands resting over his shoulders. He’s warm.

One palm caresses your lower back and the other on himself, gliding up and down. His lids are half open, voice low, “You miss this?”

“No,” which is a lie. You missed it when evenings were boring, half-heartedly nodding to some boy’s drivel about campus life, mind wandering to someone who didn’t look freshly 21, didn’t date like it. Didn’t talk themselves up just to get you into bed.

At least Ransom was honest; he always said exactly what he thought, told you exactly when you were pissing him off, how he was going to teach you a lesson—where he wanted you, how he wanted you, and— a chill races up your arms.

He’s downright smug when he notices.

“No? You prefer sloppy frat boys pawing at you like virgins over me? Every time, you think they might fuck right but, well, you’re always disappointed.” He reaches beneath the short hem of the robe, splays his hand out over your thigh and very slowly feels his way up.

Your eyes shutter as he pulls you forward, gripping tightly and massaging up toward your ass. The pit of your belly is tightening, the rest trying to push down being too eager for him all over you, his broad shoulders, his strong hands, how he bends his grasp on your shoulder, fixes you in a perfect curved arch just the way he likes.

Ransom noses the robe out of his path, sinking his teeth lightly down until he scrapes a line over your breastbone, laying his face gently down like a child—like a lover.

“You know,” he begins, taunting again, “You make a… face.” He says it as he trails down beneath the swell of one breast, letting your nipple graze his cheek, before he presses a kiss to your ribcage. Hot like a brand, searing into your belly. And then he bites.

You flinch, hand going to his hair to pull him away. He throws his head back into your grasp, eyes glittering and amused. He quickly works your thighs apart, dipping two fingers between and sinking into your heat.

“There it is,” he chuckles when your eyes flutter, “Yeah... Really gets me off.”

You’re in his lap before you know it, your hold on him fallen off and now scrambling for his wide shoulders to hold yourself steady. He’s got you leaned back on his thighs, hanging off the edge of the bed and perfectly helpless, the only thing planting you even close to secure are your folded knees, your arms around his neck. He’s shushing you, one large hand on the small of your back, the other still working inside your pussy.

He says, “Calm down unless you want to fall,” but it’s goddamn hard when your heart is pounding with equal parts fear and arousal. He’s sucking on your tits, balancing you just precariously enough to thrill, fingering you all the while—like it’s nothing to him, like you’re an object he can manipulate however he pleases.

His cock is erect, flexing against the fabric over his groin, a swell of hard, aching muscle. You want to put your hand around it, feel its girth in your palm, simply hold it because you do fucking miss it. The places he can reach, the ways he spreads you, rocking in and pulling out—how he sometimes settles inside, and then does nothing but watch you squirm.

It’s undeniably gorgeous—and he is too—when you fumble it out after he lays you down and hovers over you with interest. You’re wetting your lips automatically, staring in awe at his thick shaft sprouting from soft, dark, curls, the tip of it smooth and almost purple, swollen up with blood.

“Legs up,” and the way he says it, how he just goes right out and says it, makes you groan.

Boys don’t do that. Too busy in their heads about peacocking and re-enacting the kind of porno where performers wordlessly move into new positions in sync, nothing verbal exchanged but high-pitched shrieking and nasally fuck me’s.

Ransom’s extremely verbal in bed. He easily says, “Look at me. Show me how much you want it,” and flits his eyes between your bodies.  

You do, shivering, sliding two fingers along the sides of your folds, finding yourself aroused and damp, humiliated and incredibly turned on when he grins, simply content with watching. Your thighs are squeezing reflexively, abdomen crunching up trying to keep it together.

But he’s never been patient, and quickly tells you to hold your knees, rock back, make yourself small and exposed, and then he’s delving gently into your hole— thumbs taking turns, coaxing more.

Two fingers tuck in, then another two struggle next to them, and you can’t stop yourself from gasping and crying out at how he pulls apart the walls of your cunt.

The sound of it— sloppy, squelching, a light and hollow kind of noise like a tongue flicking inside an open mouth.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He tugs a little more, and you wriggle into it, gripping your legs tighter, pulling your knees up, shins toward your burning face to hide.

He descends on your clit, tip of his tongue licking into your stretched hole, purposefully only running against the taut skin around his fingers. “You got a talent, baby,” he murmurs, buzzing. “I could fuck you the whole day, fuck you numb… but give you about half an hour and it’s good as new, tight and perfect.”

There had been marathon rounds of bouncing in his lap between being at each other’s throats, his thighs splitting yours, hands holding you up, nibbling at your ear. Then he’d turn you around, take you to the floor until you collapsed on the bearskin rug, the sweat on your neck and chest rolling into dark furs. Railed you until you were so sensitive anything would make you come; your body unsure if it was considered your own anymore.

Fuck, fight, rinse, and repeat.

“Are you—going to talk all night?” You grunt up to the ceiling, trying to steel yourself from panting or moaning and only barely making it.

“Thought you liked it when I talked.”  His dark head is still between your legs, nose pressed into your skin, licking agonizingly slow with his entire tongue. It’s so warm, and gentle, and assertive. “What, you don’t like being told how good you taste?”

He keeps licking, pushing at the back of your knees when you try to switch positions, holding you in that bent up pose. He’s suckling at your clit when his fingers find their way back inside, easily hooking in three and pumping them smoothly.

“How—” he sucks hard, the shape of his full, plush lips fitted over you making a filthy wet smack, “mmm—I love the taste of your sweet pussy?”

When you come like it’s being ripped out of you, legs shaking around his head, lines of his spit dripping down your ass and onto the sheets, he lets you go with a hard slap on your sex, and you nearly wail.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “Yeah, you missed me, huh? You missed it like this, didn’t you? Tell me.”

“Unnng …” a high whine, “Ransom.”

“I know,” he mumbles, kissing up your belly, your neck, your ear.

He moves into position, entering effortlessly after all his prep work, and the shine of your juice still on his beard is fucking unholy hot. He’s grinning and panting, eyes fluttering briefly as he slides home.

“I know it’s big, baby. But you can take it, you’re gonna take it.” He’s a fraction unfocused, letting himself enjoy how you squeeze around him before he begins to punish.

Jesus, you missed this. Missed the agonizing drag of his shaft that feels like it goes on and on forever. Miss the way you get full of him, miss how it almost hurts.

His hipbones are hitting against yours, a steady fast rhythm because he’s experienced like that. Whereas some others might go faster when you’re close, Ransom stays at the pace that got you there in the first place. If anything, he pushes just a bit harder, makes you listen to the sound of his skin on yours, the choke of your breath he punches out.

You crunch yourself up smaller, toes touching the headboard now. Anything to get him further in.

“Fuck, you’re a slut,” he laughs. “Pretty little slut, god you don’t give it up like this for anyone else, do you?”

There’s not enough sense in you to argue even if you wanted to. The room is swimming, undulating, slipping further and further out of reach as the bed rocks and squeaks in protest. You’re sure you met a very handsome guy at the bar weeks ago but as soon as he started hinting that he was interested and stirred up conversation by asking your major, you left.

It just… wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same. No way in hell.

That boy wouldn’t have done this—wouldn’t be planting one foot on the bed, the other knee still down, enormous hands tight on your hips and crashing in.

You could cry, it feels so goddamn good.

Tears dribble their way out from the corner of your eyes. You turn your face enough to get a breath of fresh air, gulping it in frantically between the drive of Ransom’s cock and the half second he slides out.

You vaguely register his hand moving from your hip to your cheek, knuckles brushing upward.

“Oh,” he sighs, “pretty, pretty girl.” He slows his pace, nearly stilling. You squirm beneath him, inching away from how deep he is inside you, how intimate it feels as he kisses the hollow of your cheek and then toward your brow.

“So sweet for me,” he says, pulsing, making you whine with how he pushes against your sore walls. “Did I make a slut out of you? Huh? Make you stupid for my dick?”

“Make me come,” you say. “Make me—“

“Ask me real nice, baby. Ask daddy to make you come.”

You want to hit him. Kill him.

“No?” He whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, “You don’t want it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassment clawing up your face, but Ransom’s hold is tighter, sharper, and he really is— so fucking right. You want it. And he’s made you a little stupid, so yeah--

“Please make me come, daddy. I wanna come.”

The Cheshire grin that unfurls on his face is more panther than cat. “You wanna come on daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you admit. “I wanna so bad.”

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you. You put on a little show just for me? Act like you don’t want it but soon as I get in you and you let me lay you out anywhere, make you say anything.”

You turn away but he’s got your fucking number— got you as a boneless, spineless mess beneath him as he begins to fuck you again, and harder, his calculating, beautiful, cruel face hanging above you like a fever dream.

“You gonna come? Gonna cry?”

He’s melting away, he’s everywhere, and the lights behind your eyelids are starting to glare and threaten to explode.

“Gonna come for daddy, huh. That’s it, baby. That’s my girl, let me feel your pussy— ah— there it is— you can’t help it, can you? Mmm, swallow daddy’s cock with your pussy.”

Your orgasm is a wreck of curses and teeth on Ransom’s shoulder when he drops down close enough to make contact. You shake and whimper, struggling to calm yourself through the aftershocks.

When you’re done, still floaty but more aware, the mess of your humming insides less tight around him, he pulls out and shuffles up until his swollen tip is at your chin.  

You obey wordlessly, and afterwards, when the flex of his shaft is tell-tale, and he empties into your mouth, you hold it there, show him the mess.

“Baby,” he says, slowly making his way back down, admiring the come submerging your tongue.

Ransom licks his lips, licks the inside of his cheek, and leans back over again, his eyes liquid darkness and pleased as punch. And he drops a line of spit on top, drools it down over your teeth, into your mouth, and says, “Good girl.”

-

“You need a new laptop.” He’s tugging his belt until the clasp hooks into place.

“I don’t.”

“It looks old.”

“So do you.”

He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it.

“See you next week,” he hums.

You don’t say anything in response, only listening for the same heavy footsteps slam back downstairs—perhaps a fraction lighter—and the clunk of the door swinging shut. A long breath and you stretch slowly, letting your body regain its normal shape before he bent you into a goddamn pretzel. A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and you hear the roar of his car speed out of the parking lot.

Safe now, out of his reach, you amble back up into your computer chair to face the awful white, blank document staring back like a judgmental audience. You slide in and crack your neck, feeling the throb between your thighs yield to a less uncomfortable ache.

The problem, you’ve learned after leaving Ransom’s world, was that you had been ill-equipped to play his game. His game, and by extension, Meg’s game. All the Thrombeys and Drysdales and everyone in-between.

They belonged to a class you couldn’t really understand unless you were making a fucking killing—and graduation was just around the bend, so maybe you would, one day—but you were in the red with 45 grand of student debt and staring down the barrel of a subsequent degree because it was getting hard to make it with just a single bachelor’s in anything.

There was too much to do and not enough time to be jerked around by Ransom—not nearly enough time to feel frustrated about your situation in any sense. No, scraping by taught you to survive. You couldn’t be whisked off to the Caymans for brunch, couldn’t be fucked raw in hotel infinity pools, get lost for days meandering the Pacific on luxury yachts for the fun of it.

Your world was a little more drab, a little less rose-tinted.

So it was back to normal now, back to the grind, back to not wasting any part of your week on shitty dates, shitty sex, and coming home more frustrated than you left it. Because there was Ransom, so eager to make some kind of statement about proving you wrong that he’d be the last to know when he’s being used.

And maybe 4 out of 5 therapists would say that your coping mechanism to a normal sex drive is unhealthy—mind-fucking and regular-fucking your ex/not-ex will do that—but you wouldn’t know. You can’t afford therapy just yet.

You rub your back, patting out the tightness of overworked muscles. It doesn’t feel any worse than the cramp you’d gotten after staying up three nights in a row cramming for finals.

As if your brain has reset, your fingers begin tapping on the keys, and you realize your writer’s block’s been lifted.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey #knives out #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #reader insert #fanfiction #ransom drysdale thrombey

[matchibee]

United In Grief

based on this post by @ldhluvr that had me sprinting.

not proofread, a lot of emotion, my brain hurts

Days were long, evenings even longer. An empty bed to reflect the void spreading throughout your heart, threatening to consume the useless organ in a plume of despair.

Miguel was everything, your multiverse.

For so many years you were fruitful in curating the life of your dreams, everything you desired within the palm of your hand. A loving husband, a brilliant daughter. The pair of them were more than everything you could've conjured in the crevices of your mind, a duo of delight you wouldn't trade for the world — for everything that encompassed continuance.

"Ya me voy," Miguel spoke through a tired sigh, his chest slotting up against your back, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. "I won't be back until late, Amor. Don't wait up for me." He peppered kisses down the nape of your neck, relishing in your scent, in the warmth of your skin pressed up against his own.

But evenings that left you waiting for Miguel's return were detrimental to your work, finding you couldn't sleep without his warmth enveloping you, fueling the very battery you swore had long-since emptied.

You knew he was home, knew that when you slipped through the window of your apartment another person entirely, he would be safe and sound.

But tonight was nothing like the evenings previous, a lump in your throat as you walked towards the pot of coffee that had long gone cold, pouring the liquid into a mug Gabriella had made you during school — infinitely talented, forever yours.

The hairs of the back of your neck stood on end, the pot slipping from your fingertips, shattering onto the floor.

Gabriella called out to you, concerned by the sudden sound of shattered glass — a sound that reflected the very feeling present in your heart, breath heaving as you frantically travelled the inner-workings of your mind for an answer. "S-Stay in your room! I'm alright!" You called out to Gabriella from the kitchen, the young girl still have yet to see you dressed in your suit, nothing within your immediate vicinity available to cover your body.

You practically flung yourself towards the windowsill, January rain flooding the evening in puddles of despair, the reflections in the bodies of water displaying a mask ridden with apprehension.

'He's fine,' You'd mumbled to yourself as texts went unanswered, as the clock continued to turn. Time didn't rest, an entity that obeyed the will of its whim. 'He just got held up, had too much work.' But as minutes transitioned into hours, you knew something was wrong, you knew there was more to Miguel's absence than meets they eye.

The activation of your Spider-Senses only confirmed your worst suspicions, droplets of water shielding your mask as your frantically flung across the city, entirely dismissing the sound of civilians chanting your name — their savior, the one to deliver them from evil.

But who would be there to save you?

It happened in a blur, a figure in the night illuminated by streaks of lightning, your web snapping as you lost concentration. You tumbled a great deal, skin scuffed beneath your suit.

"Shit!" Voices piqued your interest, standing to your feet, you were met with a pair of thugs who seemed to struggle with an array of items, your webs doing well to restrain one of the assailants.

"What are you up to at this time of night?" You called out to the pair, doing your best to look for the other obscured in darkness, your foot catching on a lump before you. Your brows furrowed, dropping to your knees as you recognized the shape to be one of a person, every fiber of your being erupting with Spider-Sense.

"Miguel?" His name left your lips as you flipped his body over, your husband lifeless before you, a trickle of blood flowing from his lips, your eyes trailing to find a splotch of blood at his stomach — a gunshot wound, one that was seeping with blood.

And it was then you realized you were standing in a puddle of his blood, Miguel's essence coating your shoes, staining the fabric of your suit as you dropped to your knees. "Miguel." You whispered his name, the sound of struggle from behind you shielded by the beat of your heart - one that now beat alone, without the accompanying acoustics that seems to always persist by your side. "Miguel, we need to go home. Let's go home, Miguel."

But he didn't hear the call of his name, the plead of your voice.

Your webs were torn from behind you, the sound piquing your senses, but you couldn't keep your eyes away from Miguel — from the groceries strewn around him, his cellphone cracked just inches from his fingertips.

The twin bouquets of flowers bathed in his blood.

Your suit-clad fingers caressed the expanse of angular features, a man who personified the very definition of ethereal, everything you loved slipping from your fingertips in a singular fluidity. Where he once sat jovially in the palm of your hand he now proved nothing more than a fleeting memory, one you'd forever keep within your heart, whispering his name, your prayers falling upon deaf ears.

It happened too fast, so abrupt. One second he was there, your shimmering beacon, even when life made you feel as though there was nothing more to this life than an arachnid persona. But the next, Miguel lie in a heap of what once was. A memory on the stain of your vowed eternity.

You called out his name once more, whispered it like a mantra, praying something, anything would bring him back. Desperation creeped up your spine, interlacing your fingertips with a demon of this universe's own creation, one who hadn't an ounce of empathy in the face of your suffering.

But you knew better than to believe this line of work would have mercy, that anyone could find it in their hearts to grieve for someone they perceived as a beacon of perfection .

You knew better than to think your grief would be spared.

"C'mon, let's get going." One of the men whispered to his counterpart, their eyes trained on your vulnerability as they scrambled to retreat. Still, they worked to gather everything they'd taken, fragments of your memories of Miguel.

But you wouldn't let them get away, couldn't possibly fathom them getting away with what little remained, with what they'd done.

And when you finally snapped out of it, finally found it within yourself to stand, they were gone.

So you returned to his side, returned to stroking along his angular features, allowed yourself to fall against his chest despite the blood that stained your entirety.

Miguel's phone dinged with a message, your eyes lingering on the screen as you viewed the words of his co-worker.

When you unlocked his phone, you found the screen lingered on your messages together, Miguel in the midst of typing one, the text still unsent in the box.

'Picking up something for the three of us to make together. It's our favorite! I love you, see you soon, amor.'

You hit send, your own phone chiming in the pocket of your suit, and you fell apart all over again.

Days blurred into existences of grief, months having spanned the time since you'd lost Miguel, and yet every day felt as though you were reliving a nightmare. The bed remained empty, his toothbrush untouched, body wash forever in a state of stagnancy.

Everything seemed to stand still, yet time ticked on, you were still expected to live with this grief hanging over your head for eternity.

The men had gotten away in the midst of your surprise, taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But you never forgot a face, vowed that evening as you slipped back through your window, tears shimmering in your eyes, that you'd bring the men to justice.

That was your job, your purpose in this life, and you would rather die than deprive yourself of this right, this closure.

"I'll be back late tonight," You mumbled into Gabriella's hair, tucking the little girl in for the evening. Your suit was concealed by a coat, fingertips webbed in fabric unknown to Gabriella.

"Can't you stay here for tonight?"

Of course you'd come to realize that Gabriella was missing you, the loss of Miguel hitting harder than everything she'd experienced in her short years of living.

But you were doing this for her, doing this for your family.

For Miguel.

"I'll be back before you wake up, I promise."

Your words seemed to soothe her, calm her nerves as she snuggled into her sheets, into the various stuffed animals Miguel brought with him every time he walked through that door.

You missed the jingle of his keys, the sound of his footsteps as he did his best not to wake you up.

You missed Miguel.

When Gabriella had finally dosed off, confining herself to the safety of sleep, you hopped out through the window, your mind set on your first target, the initial hit on your self-written list.

Two names, two assailants, both linked to a single moment.

You'd tracked them to an abandoned apartment complex they seemed to frequent in the evening hours, meeting at a different location every night but ending it in the same place.

So that's where you waited, impatient as you clung to the crumbling roof, the sound of voices the only thing ringing through mind, headache inducing. The pain becoming increasingly profound the closer they arrived, proximity practically nonexistent.

One of the men lit a lighter, illuminating your suit, gasps falling from their lips as the three of you were once more shrouded in darkness. Your webs thwipped in every direction, binding the men against the wall, their struggled groaned filling the space. Dropping to your knee, you brought the lighter between your fingers, igniting the flame before your masked face.

"S-Spider—!"

"Don't." Your voice was foreign to your own ears, malice dripping from your lips like venom.

"I don't know what we did but—!"

You thwipped your webs to cover the mouth of the man who seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut, approaching the other before you, your full attention on him. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Fuck if I know." He spat, eyeing you with a bored expression.

You hummed. "You'll find out soon enough."

Glimmers of spark erupted from behind you, illuminating the once dim space, figures slipping through the occurrence, standing before you.

Your senses stood on edge, looking to the trio with an expression of confusion.

"How ya doing?" A woman you realized to be pregnant spoke in a soothing voice.

"You're like me..." The words slipped without your permission, a hand flying to your lips, concealing your words.

A much smaller figure shrouded in multicolored shades, white dominating the mass of the fabric, was the next to speak. "We're here to help you," Her voice was like honeysuckle, dripping like ripples of heaven. "You just have to come with us."

"I'm kinda in the middle of something." Despite the invitation you weren't intent on slipping away after everything you'd worked towards, after dedicating your life to this very moment.

"We aren't asking." This voice was much more gruff than the two previous, tone entirely bored, as though fed up with being here.

And yet it sounded so familiar.

You stepped up to the man, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

So, you ended up being forced to leave. The trio had worked against you, confining you to a glorified bubble that hindered your escape, producing you in the sanctuary of a man clad in red and blue.

"Let me out or so help me—!"

He chuckled, looking down at you through his mask. "Or else what?"

"Miguel," The woman from earlier, Jessica, slipped into the conversation. "Maybe be a little more compassionate?"

Miguel?

"Leave us." He spat, the pair of Jessica and Gwen leaving with remorseful expressions, obviously not keen on defying his will.

No, it couldn't be, it was unfathomable. You shook the thought from your head, removing your mask to look into their eyes without the obstruction. "Send me home."

A mask of blue and red dematerialized before your very eyes, a face you hadn’t seen in the flesh for forever — condemned to what remained on your phone, on the plaque that garnered his picture in the cemetery you and Gabriella frequented, unable to deliver him from your memories.

Eyes of vermillion stared into the crevices of your soul, a man who was yours yet far different than how you remembered him. Where smile lines traveled along your Miguel’s face, this man seemed to have an expression pressed into a permanent frown, incapable of any emotions apart from anger. He wasn't yours, yet eternity whispered otherwise.

"I can't do that." Miguel spoke, but you weren't focused on his words, only capable of registering his face, his entirety. Here before you stood everything you'd ever lost.

Your past, present and future.

"Miguel," You pressed your hand to the bubble that kept you confined, entirely entrapped within a state of disbelief. "I thought you were—"

"Dead?"

You nodded wordlessly, slipping to your knees as Miguel turned away from you, your crimson confinement slipping away as you were met with the crisp air of the near-empty room.

"I'm not from your universe. In your universe, I'm dead."

You furrowed your brows. "That doesn't make any sense! I know what I see, and right now I see my husband!"

The words left Miguel in a state of shock, his body rigid as he fought every urge to bound towards you with open arms, hold you and never have to release you again.

"There are an infinite number of universes, an infinite number of Spiders just like us."

Miguel pressed on with a tangent that had your thoughts spinning, mind fighting to make an understanding of the information he was spewing, everything seeming more akin to a fever dream than anything else.

"We all go through canon events, moments that connect us, that make us who we are."

Your eyes drifted to various screen baring different scenes, instances where those cursed with this ability had lost everything. A man with his uncle, another with their best friend.

You with Miguel.

"No," You swiped the images away, the room returning to its previous luminance. "That's bullshit. It doesn't make any sense."

Miguel sighed, his back still turned to you as he held up his left hand, the multicolored suit dematerializing with a technology you'd never witnessed before. "I wish it was," A silver banned shimmered in the artificial light, glimmering with love, a reminder of vows that were bound to eternity and stripped by oblivion. "In my universe, you're dead."

You felt at the ring beneath your suit, shifting the jewelry uncomfortably, the piece having never felt so unbearable until this very moment. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"That's why I couldn't let you go through with it."

"What?"

"Killing those men — the ones that took me... Your husband. All it does is make everything worse, it doesn't solve anything."

As though you hadn't learned anything you scoffed, "How do you know?"

"Because I went down that same road when you—shit... When my version of you died." His voice was shrill, seeming to lose his composure with every passing second. In your eyes he saw everything he'd ever lost, standing before him as though you'd never faltered to begin with. "I went looking for the people that took you away from me, from our family that wasn't a family yet."

"Then what?"

You could see the remorse in his eyes, a gaze of regret, the memories too painful for him to share, yet he pressed forward — for you, for himself, for an unspoken closure the both of you desperately required. "I missed you more than anything in this world. I went looking for you, disrupted universes until I couldn't handle it anymore, until I convinced myself I was better off alone — not meant to be a father, a husband."

You gasped. "You were gonna be a dad?"

The though brought a smile to Miguel's face. "You had our little girl with you when they took you away — took both of you from me." Miguel's eyes were glazed with tears, vulnerability on his sleeve as his mind fought for him to remain logical, remember why he's the person he was in that very moment. "I wish I'd gotten to know my darling Gabriella."

A lump in your throat, the sensation scratching you with claws like fire. "She's wonderful, Miguel."

He chuckled, a smile forming on his lips, one he forced himself to push away. "What's she like?"

"Just like you." The response was instant, absentminded, thinking to a universe where he no longer existed. "Everyday I'm scared I won't be able to face her because she looks more and more like you, acts like you."

Miguel could picture it, the life he deserved, the one he was destined to live. In his heart there was a love that would forever remain his to keep, bound to his soul. And while the thought left him in a state of elation — the fact that his daughter was happy in another reality — it wasn't his joy to experience.

It was yours. Yours and a Miguel that wasn't him.

"I can't send you back to your universe unless you swear you won't go after those men."

"I can't just-"

"Swear you won't go after those men or else you'll never see Gabriella again!" Miguel's voice thundered through the room, shaking you to your core, a chill rushing down your spine in wisps of terror. He couldn’t stand to see another variation bound to the universe’s clutches, lost because of selfish, something he could easily prevent. Miguel didn’t want to see to see you suffer all over again. lose everything just as he had. And if this was how he had to get his point across, it was what he would do for the sake of the canon.

For the sake of his love that transcended the multiverse itself.

"I..." Your voice was weak, tears brimming in your eyes. Miguel had never yelled at you, never dared raise his voice. And the fact that this variant of him had done it so simply, without an ounce of effort, had brought you back to the cruelty that was reality.

This wasn't your Miguel.

"I promise."

No matter how you begged and pleaded, no matter what you did to change the canon, he would never be yours.

"Good."

The Miguel O'Hara from your universe was gone, and all you had to remember him was memories bound to blood, crimson staining a suit you hid away, unable to bring yourself to wash the stains of grief, ridding your fingertips of what once was, all that remained.

But just as the vows of your eternal love were broken upon the death of Miguel...

This promise would soon be broken, too.

#across the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderverse x reader #miguel o’hara

[darlingggdearest]

Genya and fem!reader who thought his fighting style and determination was really admirable and cool and wants to get to know him more, but everytime she tries, he's just too flustered

Genya with Fem! reader who thinks his fighting style is really cool

OMG I love this so much! thank you for requesting.

WARNING: None! enjoy!

+ You were a demon slayer, just one rank lower than Genya. Genya had always caught your attention, from the way he looked to the way he held himself. One thing in particular caught your eye though, the way he fought.

+ You had tried to become friends with him a multitude of times. Finding him cool and admirable for the way he fights, but whenever you tried to walk up to him to introduce yourself, he'd walk away.

+ At first you thought he hated you, what you didn't realize is that the exact opposite was true. he'd run away from the sight of you not because he hated you, but because he really liked you. He liked you a bit too much, and in the world of the demon slayer, liking someone in a sense more than friendship is emotional suicide. He knew this, so it was ok right? He just had to keep his distance and- DAMN IT- you are too damn persistent!! He saw your figure emerging from the trees again. That damn perfect figure. With that damn perfect smile. And that damn perfect hair. And- he stopped his thoughts. BE GONE YOU AND YOUR PELVIC SORCERY. (I really hope people get that reference)

+ You waved your hand in the air. "Hey, Genya! What are you talking about?"

+ His face heat up, great- he accidentally said it out loud. To save what was left of his dignity, he turned around and hightailed it out of there. And that's what he kept doing, for a while.

+ Until you guys got paired up on a mission.

+ Now he couldn't run away, so instead, he came up with the best option he could think of: staying perfectly silent. That lasted about 15 minutes.

+ You started the conversation by telling him your name (he already knew because he asked his older brother about you) and he mustered up the confidence to shake your hand. Your skin felt so soft and warm to the touch, he defiantly held onto your hand a good 2 seconds longer than he should have, embarrassed, he overthought it the rest of the day.

+ The mission went well, after a few hours of fighting, the demon's head came off with a satisfying slice. And you got to see Genya fighting up close, which is always a good thing.

+ You felt overexcited from all the fighting, adrenalin most defiantly still flowing through your veins. So without thinking you let all of the things you had thought of Genya out. The way you thought he was so cool for fighting with a gun and a sword, the way he holds himself, and of course the "I am so honored to be able to fight by your side Genya!" At the end of your rant you had to take a big deep breath, realizing you hadn't been breathing through any of it. You look up, Genya stares back.

+ He is in complete shock. He had no idea that you thought these things about him. He feels proud? Embarrassed? Happy? Flustered? oh yes most defiantly flustered. His blush has not only causes a sheet of sweat across his face but it also stretches down his back and chest, even his fingers are blushing a bright crimson glow. His stomach is doing cartwheels. He can't quite focus on anything but you. Right now. Right in front of him. One side of him would do anything to not be in this moment, and the other would do anything to be in this moment forever. Both are fighting to the death inside of him. And before the second side could claim its victory, Genya faints.

+ He wakes up in a bed at the butterfly mansion with you sitting right next to him.

+ "Oh! You're awake!" you exclaim. "Shinobu said you'll be fine, it was just a tumble, she thinks that you stretched yourself too thin during the battle and you just need to get some rest."

+ That's it. He's excepted his defeat. He loves you. And now he's in trouble.

Should I post a part two??

#genya x reader #genya kny #genya shinazugawa #genya headcanons #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer headcanons #kny #hashira #kimetsu no yaiba #shinazugawa brothers