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wandagcre · 6 months

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it's a trap (when you act like that) | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Best friend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You cannot quite relate to the topic of pleasure. Being introverted and shy, your circle of people was limited, but you're more than grateful that Wanda - your best friend - is always there to help you out.

WARNING: corruption kink, pillow riding, first times, fingering, praise, wanda talking you through it - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.2k

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

For an hour, you settled on reading in comfortable silence with your best friend. Wanda laid on your lap comfortably, unlike you, she gave up skimming on her notes a few minutes ago.

You giggle each time you catch her gaze on you. It was inquisitive and sometimes Wanda made silly faces. Thoughtful as ever, she’d pop in some candy in your mouth.

Her auburn hair grew out – instead, her brunette tresses were back. It was tempting for you the way they were sprawled out, wanting to comb them with your fingers and drop your notes – only having to listen to what stories your best friend would tell.

Lately, you noticed it’s been hard to be around Wanda. You can no longer hold her gaze than usual and you physically want to be closer to her – which was no problem because your best friend was always attentive and touchy with you.

“Have you been working out? Look at these thighs,” You sharply inhaled as you felt fingertips, running feather-like on your skin. Wanda caught the act and it made her giggle softly.

You shyly shook your head. “N-no. I haven’t.”

She seemed not to buy your response. It’s the truth. Even if you indulged in some exercises, your workout routine was not strict about any type of weight lifting. Not like you had the time and all. In fact, it was one of the things that sometimes pulled you into your insecure thoughts, thinking that you’ve got an unattractive pair.

However, Wanda loves them as they were. She liked it when you got experimental with your wardrobe, changing it up with some short skirts that highlighted your legs and its curves. More so with your comfort in plain shorts, as it rewarded your best friend more of its exposure.

What Wanda didn’t like was winter and how it took away the sight of your gorgeous thighs.

You insisted, “I’m serious! If you consider getting food from the top and bottom shelf of the fridge as squatting, then, my answer is yes.”

“Well, they look good to me. Keep it up.” Wanda playfully remarked. You chuckled lightly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Want me to pull away?”

Her voice was hypnotizing – insanely soothing. Almost like a balm, you’d say. Enough to make you re-read the damn sentence on your notes because you barely understood them. It doesn’t help that she kept her ministrations – tracing circular patterns that ascend to your inner thighs, causing goosebumps to wake.

“Took me by surprise, that's all. You can keep doing that if you want.”

“Is it relaxing?” Wanda whispered.

You shudder a bit and it made you scuffle in your position. “Kinda like you playing with my hair…”

Wanda was amused. You briefly wondered what was the joy in this – riling you up in some way. Were your reactions too entertaining? She had always been full of mischief, but lately, hanging out with your best friend made you…tense. It was not uncomfortable in a way that her actions burned, maybe they did, but in a different context. A realm you’ve never touched on – spurring you to confusion furthermore.

Her forefinger grazed over the space between your eyebrows. “What’s got you all so worked up, honey? You got this crease going on – you’re too tense. Wanna take a break?”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.” You gave in. You couldn’t even process them anyway.

You still appeared as bothered from Wanda’s point of view. She moved away from laying down between your thighs, looking at you who refused to meet her eyes. She was growing concerned. Had she overstepped this time?

Wanda was clueless. “Are you seeing someone?”

You looked incredulously at the woman.

“That’s out of the blue, Wands.”

“Can’t blame a girl for asking, (y/n/n). You’re usually reserved, I get that, but lately you seem to be always in deep thought? You know I can help, right?”

“I-I want to tell you but it can get weird.”

“Weird? Baby, we’ve known each other for years. How worse can it possibly get?” Wanda asked incredulously. Now she was concerned.

There’s nothing to hide. Wanda had a point, you thought.

You whisper, “Lately, um. I-I’ve been trying to discover something.”

“Okay…” Wanda hummed, eyes focused on your lips.

You weren’t hesitant out of fear of being judged, but you didn’t know where your boundaries stood.

Although, you remember how Wanda was so thoughtful that every time you bought some undies, she volunteers to come along and when you ask for her opinion, she carefully takes time to examine them.

You remember her fingers tracing along the seams, making you turn around, asking for permission to touch so she can examine the material further around your butt and how it clung to your hips. They shouldn’t be tight, Wanda said.

“And it’s about pleasure. You know, that stuff.” You flail your hands. Can this get more embarrassing?

Meanwhile, Wanda was absolutely having the time of her life. She couldn't believe that this was happening. Of course, as the role of best friend, she would be very ecstatic to lead you.

She starts with a lilt of teasing in voice. “Sorry, honey, but there’s many things that can go around the topic of pleasure. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

Poor you, didn’t even catch up to her teasing. You had enough.

“Touching the southern part!” You blurt out.

“Oh!”

“Yeah,”

“Huh.” Wanda looked inquisitive. Her head tilted to the side in faux wonder. In truth, she was thinking of ways to help you – defile you in this very bed – if she’s sly enough.

You groaned. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“See, now it’s weird. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no. It’s not weird. In fact, it’s normal to be curious about that. What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t think I’m doing it right. I feel bad because I heard discussions about it – overheard some girls from my class. It’s all the hype I can’t get onto– I just don’t seem to get there–”

You were rambling all things at once. Wanda had to process the thought of you touching yourself and getting frustrated, of course you wouldn’t know. You needed her – someone to get through it.

And Wanda was more than willing to step up.

With a glint in her eye, she suggests, “Want me to help you?”

Were you hearing things right? Surely, you misheard Wanda. Your mind couldn’t wrap the thought of it. How on earth can she help you? Maybe she’ll write them down or give you a video that wasn’t too explicit as porn. She knew that you hated them, after all.

“You–won’t that be weird between us? And how?”

“Don’t even think about that. It’s me, honey. You can always count on me. Even about these types of situations. Do you trust me?”

You answered in a heartbeat. “More than anyone.”

“Good. What do you think, do you wanna get started?”

Right now? Your eyes widened. But there won’t be another time, you suppose. “Shit. Okay, yeah, sure.”

“We’ll take things slow, hm?” She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. Seeing you all bare for her – Wanda might as well cum at the mere thought of it. The way you nodded attentively made her stomach flip. “We’re going to test the waters. Since you’re having trouble with your fingers, we can do that later. Maybe we’ll try a different approach.”

Your cheeks burned at Wanda’s elaborate plan. “O-okay. I’ll listen to you.”

Wanda purses her lips and moves closer to you. You looked apprehensive, but not as much previously. Good.

“Have you ever heard about riding a pillow?”

“N-no…” You meekly answered. Porn was straight to the point. Too uncomfortable for your liking. It was penetration and done. You tried watching one or two, then that was it – you never thought about revisiting and looking further beyond that. “That’s a thing?”

Wanda, however, couldn’t help but scoot closer to you. How she was very elated to hear this – the woman couldn’t wait to introduce more things to you in the future, to be the one showing you the ropes of it.

“Yes it is. Some find it very rewarding. It’s so easy. ” She supplements.

Out of curiosity, you cannot filter yourself. “What about you… have you ever?”

“Yeah, I have.” She smoothly replied. Wanda was so self-assured, you can’t help but envy it a little. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you at every step of the way, honey. Exploration of what you like and how it works is nothing to be ashamed of.”

It did the trick for you; Wanda picked up a relief sigh coming out of you. She smiled, rubbing your thighs enough to create a comfortable warmth.

“Use my pillow – don’t worry, it’s easy to get them washed.” Your movements were slow and hesitant, continuously looking back and forth to Wanda’s piercing green eyes and to her pillow innocently hanging at the corner of her bed. Grabbing the item, she shoots you a proud smile. “Now, take your bottoms off for me.”

For Wanda. You felt the heat creep from your stomach, riding in waves, up to your neck and whole face. She nudges you by nodding her head. You’re entirely sure that you’re beyond stunned right now. Discarding your shorts and underwear at the same time, you quickly throw them away and cross your thighs. Wanda’s words being uttered in an authoritative and raunchy manner was enough to make you wet – you didn’t want her to see the proof of that.

“So good. You’re doing so, so well baby.” Wanda licked her bottom lip in anticipation. “Now, flip that pillow by its seams – the edges are an important part of this. Then, just mount it.”

Your heart raced – you can’t believe that this was happening – you’re about to ride a pillow in front of your attractive best friend and she’ll talk you through your first orgasm. Right here in her own cramped bed and pillow. Doing as Wanda says, you spread your legs apart and mounted the pillow that stood by its edges. You gasped at the sensation; it was the softest thing your core has ever touched and it was slightly cold.

Looking back at Wanda, she seemed lost in your center – who wouldn’t be, given this rare opportunity? She always had a crush on you. But you didn’t even notice. Now, your friendship was taken on the next level, she thanked any deity out there for her patience. ((And her power over you right now? It was hard not to revel in that.))

You looked so adorable. Wanda could compare you to bambi right now, especially when you thought you were being sly. She saw the slick forming on your pussy from earlier as you were stripping. It was mouthwatering that it drove Wanda insane, prickling through each nerve of her body.

“What next?” You shakily asked. It was intimidating to have her eyes fixated on you – you couldn’t decipher what was going on behind those green eyes.

“Gyrate your hips. Back and forth, slowly.” Wanda orders with a low voice.

She watches you try to move back and forth at the pillow. Your pussy grazed on the fabric, making your eyes flutter at each soft contact, but it wasn’t enough for your pleasure nor Wanda’s.

She waddled closer and placed her hands firm on your hips. You bite the inside of your cheek, slowing down your motion out of surprise. The least you can do was have an ounce of dignity, you couldn’t moan in front of Wanda.

You sweet thing, Wanda thought. It was evident how desperate you were in your soft and messy thrusts. She was focused on how you moved your hips clumsily and your folds wetter, the pillow darkening as your arousal stained them.

She couldn’t take it much longer.

“You’re almost bouncing, honey. Do it like this – in sliding motions.” A moan inevitably escaped your lips as she pushed your hips alone, quite literally guiding you. Wanda shuddered in delight. “Want that pretty pussy of yours gliding in, get that friction working already. Don’t be afraid to put all of your weight in it. It’s much better, trust me (y/n/n).”

Pretty? Wanda even used it in an inappropriate context. It affected you more than you thought it would, that you felt a spurt of liquid drip from your core. Was it supposed to be like this? It was better than previously. Maybe it was truly your form that made a better change. You thrust your hips more and no longer hesitated upon resting your lower body’s weight.

It was much better, just like Wanda had said.

Wanda’s bed creaked louder and louder. Of course, you were getting lost in your own needs – you didn’t even notice.

Your resolve was visibly breaking in front of Wanda which she absolutely relished on.

“Don’t let me stop you from moaning, baby. It’s all about your pleasure.” Wanda gently reassured you. It was all you needed apparently to let loose. “Thrust your hips harder.” She commands you. It sparked more need that travelled to your lower stomach down to your core.

Was this the feeling people always blabbered about? Because you’re sure that you understood it now. It completely took over your senses like crazy.

Your hands placed in front for balance, you do as your best friend said. She truly knows her way around here. You haven’t felt this needy before. The friction she mentioned was settling in quickly and it was addicting against your pussy. You close your eyes and arch your back. The softness soon burned – a delicious contradiction – and it was enough to make you feel soaked.

“Just like that…” Her hips have never left yours and matched the rough sliding motions, grasping firm around your bare skin. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so great.” For me, Wanda wanted to add.

“M-mm, y-yes,” You whimpered and nodded dumbly.

“You can also experiment with other motions – try what’s best for you. You can do circles with your hips,”

You immediately try as she recommended. Wanda had to stifle a giggle right then and there. Her headboard was starting to hit against the wall with your messy yet hard thrusts. It was obvious that the pleasure was brewing already, to which Wanda deviously smiled at.

“Can I touch you down there? I bet it’s sticky already…” She whispered directly to your ear. You feel your best friend’s hot-white breath grazing satisfactory against your neck. It tickles!

It wouldn’t hurt right? It was a part of the lesson, you suppose. Wanda knew better and you trusted her. “Y-yes. You can touch me, Wands.”

Without further ado, your best friend immediately went in to trace your outer folds. Fuck, you were so wet. You immediately coated her fingers, terribly addicting that she had to stop herself from plunging in so suddenly.

You continued to gyrate harder and it seems that there was the ‘spot’ that everyone was talking about. You lost track of it, but you felt how the pleasure intensified and moaned unadulteratedly, louder than before, that spurred Wanda to repeat the motion harder. With every glide against the pillow that you do, Wanda’s fingers were there at the edge to stimulate your throbbing core. Your breathing pattern grew heaving.

It was so, so addicting to have your slit pressed against the once innocent material and the friction it provided you–

“Stop there,” Wanda firmly said. You halt out of concern, rethinking whether you did something wrong. Your best friend, however, was pleased at your expression.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” You gulped and weakly asked.

“No, honey. You did so well.” Wanda caressed your jaw and held you by the cheek with her clean hand. A pleased grin broke out of you to which Wanda duly noted. You liked praises. “That was the first lesson. You need something to stimulate you into the mood, it is very important. Now I’ll touch you first so you can mimic them later on. Is that okay?” Her hands descend to trail them at the center of your torso and stopped by the pelvic area.

This was going so well. You even forgot and thought how dumb it was to doubt Wanda and how she would embarrass you. It felt as though it was more than what you asked of her.

You wet your lips, “M-more than okay.”

At this point, you valued Wanda's opinion more than ever.

“Good girl. We’ll get started.”

She swept away the crumpling notes and the stained pillow. Wanda almost moaned at the mere sight. It was like an animal had rudely rammed through her room.

Wanda stared at your half-lidded eyes that beamed at her words. Your hair was frazzled and barely can manage your own breathing. She caused this. And hell, she can’t wait to ravish you further. You felt reassured with her comforting smile and voice leading you on.

Your best friend grabbed you by the thighs to pull you closer to her. Wanda hummed in delight, a crooked smile on her lips appeared as you released a throaty moan again as she pushed them farther apart.

“Now, listen carefully, (y/n/n). You have to tease your folds first and gather the wetness here,” Wanda sultry uttered and started to stroke your folds again and you helplessly nod. “It’s no trouble right now, considering how soaked you are.” She bit her lip and teased you by bringing up her fingers that were coated by your arousal. “Don’t hide them from me. It’s so pretty to see you like this, honey.” You arched your back for her and became flustered at Wanda’s words.

So warm and inviting. Wanda was flooded with glee, that she swooped in before anyone else could. With this, she also intends to be your last. No way in hell she can share you now after this.

You feel your cheeks and ears grow hot. You buck your hips for more as Wanda starts to stroke vertically and then random patterns at your soaked pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch the itch you’ve been longing for.

Your nostrils flared, “W-Wands, please..”

Wanda felt herself damp as you moaned her name. It was like music to her ears. She immediately changed your position, from your hips up to encouraging you to lay down flat on her bed and adjusting to settle on your side – her fingers not leaving the inside of your pussy.

“What do you need, baby?” She pressed a kiss on your ear. The gesture was meant to comfort you but you felt your body burning even more.

“I need you! It’s so sticky and tickling me- I don’t… Can you please h-help me?”

You were needy, just as Wanda wanted you to be. She riled you up enough that she even felt you drip more wetness as she plunged deeper inside of you and hit the spongy wall that her fingers could reach. You were more than compliant all throughout the session that it made her heart soar.

“You can also play with your breasts, it can add a better feel for you, baby.”

You hesitantly reach for your pair and Wanda’s awaiting (needy) eyes were the final nudge for you. You wanted to do good. At this point, the lines were blurred; you didn’t know if it was to achieve orgasm or praise from your best friend.

Hands skimming underneath your shirt, you also pushed up your bra and experimentally squeezed the flesh. You groaned and eyes half-lidded again, threatening to shut.

Wanda was ecstatic that she had convinced you through this. Her motions never faltered – if anything it was more determined – as she watched you play with your tits. She thought it was cute how your underwear mismatched, her eyes caught the sliver of the pale material of your panties and your bra in the color of a colder tone. Were you tugging on your perked nipples? You were so eager and feeling comfortable enough. Wanda almost demanded you to take them off, wanting to see them. Another time.

She kept on stimulating your pussy and with the addition of you playing with your breasts – it was impossible to even control your moans anymore.

You threw your arms quickly around Wanda’s neck and hands had wrapped themselves on her nape. Opposed to her firm and determined motions, you were gentle with how you caressed her skin. Wanda melted with no hesitation and now, her dorm room was reverberating with moans along you.

“It’s so sticky down here just as you said. Now,” Wanda’s own breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to listen to her. “I’m going for your clit. It’s in the uppermost area, covered by your hood. Need to stretch you more-” She grabbed your hand and made them trace the areas for you to pinpoint them better. Fuck, Wanda was right. You were soaking wet. “That better?”

You agreed furiously, “Y-Yes, but–”

“I know, I know. You need more.” Wanda kept her ministrations inside of you, stretched you better that you had to let out a guttural moan. The spot was back and she kept hitting it now mercilessly. “Is that it? That feels much better?”

“Oh, yes!”

Your needy core greedily swallowed Wanda’s fingers and you had no idea. So drunk in pleasure. So lost without her. You’re so lucky that you had her. Wanda was just as intoxicated as you, her dilated green eyes drinking up the warmth of your pussy and your writhing sight.

Upon making eye contact, you didn’t know how to react to the revelation of how those green eyes unashamedly looked at you. It was similar as Wanda would when she was examining you while fitting clothes – only now they appeared more hungry and she’ll devour you.

And the thing is that you will gladly let her. Another needy moan was ripped out of you, disturbing your rail of thoughts as Wanda added her thumb to the stimulation that circled around your clit, you laid there helplessly clenching on the bed sheets while you were in Wanda’s grasp.

“W-Wands… Wands! I think I’m going to pee,” You shyly inform the woman and the heel of your palm pressed against her clavicle to push her away, Wanda only shushed you.

It was familiar to you, you think that you’ve reached this extent but you always stopped because you were very unsure of what follows after.

You felt dirty and it was embarrassing how you were bucking your hips to meet Wanda’s plunging in your core. It halted your mood a little and Wanda immediately picked it up, as your walls clenched harder around her digits.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Wanda’s sultry voice spurred your gears again. You huffed and absorbed her words. “Don’t worry about it, you’re going to cum. Just listen to my voice baby, you’re doing so great for me.” It is more than okay, you repeat in your head. Wanda’s making you feel so good you felt like you were going to combust.

Your muscles grew tense around the abdomen area and all over your thighs - you feel the knot forming in there. You are frenzied to chase it.

“Cum for me, come on, my good girl.”

Wanda was sweating now as you were, and she kept ramming inside of your warm walls, a final hard stimulation around your clit did its job to untangle the knot you were feeling.

“Wanda!” A guttural moan was ripped out of you.

It was the most angelic sound that Wanda has ever heard.

Your eyes were still closed shut. Still whining as you fall apart, it was the most freeing experience you’ve ever encountered. It’s easy to say that you were beyond satisfied this time around. Your body was almost floating and your mind was lightheaded–you’re sure of it. Your legs were spasming a little and it was hard to ignore the vivid feeling of liquid oozing out of your core. It was never ending and Wanda was tempted to drink them all up.

“You looked so beautiful there, honey. I’m proud of you.” She cooed sweetly in your ears and pressed a kiss on your forehead that was glistening with sheer sweat.

You grew hot at her words. “Oh–!”

The bed shook again and creaked as Wanda rode out your orgasm. The squelching sound was more vivid to your ears. You cried out loud, feeling that it was too much, held your best friend’s wrist and finally Wanda pulled her digits out. Before your best friend can calm you down–

An aggressive banging resounded against Wanda’s dorm walls.

“It’s midterms week! Stop fucking!”

You froze. You completely forgot where you were and how thin the dorm walls were, making you cover your face with your palm. Meanwhile, Wanda couldn’t be more bothered – she simply laughed at how evidently embarrassed you are, threading through her own hair with a familiar glint in her eyes.

“I don’t think I can face the people outside anymore,” You admit, groaning as you sober up from the high.

Why did you have to be so loud?

“Mmm. Lucky for you, we’re staying inside for a while. I got some other tricks I wanted to show you.” Wanda bit her lip, crimson also spreading through her cheeks as she closed the gap again between you.

She can compare your gaze to a deer caught in headlights. Always so attentive and compliant.

With a little more touch from your best friend, you felt the hotness starting again in your lower stomach, making it twitch with familiar need – your studying session long forgotten and replaced with a different lesson.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #wlw #lesbian #perv!wanda

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radiance1 · 5 months

Text

"You know what happened to Odin?"

"No, what happened to Odin?"

"Exactly, you cannot step foot in the mortal realm like you are now. Follow in Odin's footsteps."

"No, I don't want to follow in the Allfather's footsteps."

"Stop whining like a child and take a mortal form love."

"No, I will not."

[Deep inhale] "Do you know what happened to Loki?"

"Loki? The trickster? What happened to that one?"

"Well, he's currently still trapped inside of a cave, chained by his son's own entrails as a snake eternally drips poison onto him, but that is beside the point."

"No that is exactly the point."

"No, it is not. His fate has no relation to the main subject of our conversation."

"Yes, it does."

"No, it does not- No. Stop making that face. I am not doing this again."

"What face?"

"You know what you're doing. Stop it."

"I don't think I will."

[Exasperated exhale.]

"You should follow in the god of mischief's footsteps, even he- no especially he knew the point of a convincing disguise."

"Hmmm."

"No."

"Dearly beloved if you do not take on a mortal form while living out your farmer fantasy then so help me, I will place you back inside the coffin from which you came."

"..."

"That would be beautiful really, but no thank you I'll take that mortal form now."

"Good." Clockwork smiled

An hour later....

"Is this convincing enough for you, my love?" Pariah Dark adjusted the straw hat sitting upon his head, trying to shift it into a position better suited for his hair.

Clockwork hummed, floating around Pariah to take in his new form from every angle. "Well, it is certainly better than your first try."

"Then can I leave now?"

"No."

Pariah sighed. Feeling as hands were gently placed on his shoulders and slowly guided him down to rest on his own legs as he felt hands run through his hair and his straw hat gently taken from his head. He sighed with small indignation as crossed his arms. "I spent a while trying to fit that over my hair properly, you were the one who told me to fit in, so why take it off?" Pariah grumbled.

"Yes, yes. I know love." Clockwork's fingers gently worked themselves through his king's hair, a deep and long sigh leaving the man's body as he fully relaxed, causing Clockwork to smile.

As he worked, Clockwork hummed a small tune lost to the seas of time, causing Pariah to perk up slightly, before, a few minutes later, also joining his lover's humming.

"There we are." Clockwork removed his hands from the other's hair, and Pariah took that as a single to stand up. He turned his head, carefully pulling the braid over his shoulder, he then quirked a brow. "Where did you get the flowers from?"

"From here and there." Clockwork smirked, one that Pariah knew meant he was receiving no answer to his question from, so he shrugged, moving the braid off his shoulder. "So, where exactly are you going to send me?"

"Right, yes." Clockwork waved him over, pulling up a small mirror of time as he shifted through locations. "So, you'll be going to this world and..."

===

Pariah Dark stared down at the door, in one hand holding a basket as he brought the other up in preparation to knock before freezing.

How does one interact with a human outside of violence and threats again?

He shifted, not for the first time realizing that he had to crouch down to even fit to get to his new neighbors door.

Humans are intimated by height, right?

Should he shrink?

His beloved never walked him through how to talk with humans what does he do????

Should he leave?

But then his beloved would be disappointed...

Okay, first things first.

Knocking.

He gently brought his fist forward, and tapped his knuckles against the door frame, small thunks sounding out with each and every knock.

He tapped a bit harder, each series good louder than the last.

Okay, he thinks he's getting good at this! He's practically a natural!

Oh, the door opened.

The door opened.

"Hello?" An old mortal woman peered up at him, or tried to, at the very least, for his head was well above the door.

Pariah Cleared his throat, moving his hand back in a small wave. "Greetings, mortal-" Shoot. Normal mortals don't talk like that. "I am Pariah Dar- I mean Ark."

He coughed, moving his other hand forwards to present her with the basket. "I bring you an offering in hopes of creating an alliance-" Alliance, really Pariah? Really? "Between the two of us that will foster until the end of time!"

The human woman below hesitantly took the basket, probably shocked, and then just. Stood, there.

Ancients, did he accidentally kill her? He didn't even do anything! Were humans always so fragile?!

The woman cleared her throat, and stepped out of the doorway. "Thank you very much dearie, that's very kind of you!"

Why is she smiling.

Ancients she's smiling he wasn't prepared for this. His beloved never told him his neighbors would smile he wasn't ready-

Annnnd he already teleported away.

Pariah groaned, reaching up his hands to his hair before suddenly remembering who it was braided by, before lowering down to cover his face as he crouched besides his own house.

A nearby horse wandered over and nipped at his hair.

"I was supposed to get a name, Elizabeth." Pariah despaired. "A name!"

@pennerjones

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #dp dark ages #pariah dark #dp clockwork #martha kent #I genuinely don't know how I wrote like this #I was just writing lol #I also have zero idea on how to write Martha Kent #So #Uh #We have that too #hahah...

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urhoneycombwitch · 23 days

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im gonna be at work for high night 🙄 so save my self-indulgent idea for later lu

reader who keeps hitting the snooze button on their alarm and groans knowing they need to get up for work but they just really cannot find the motivation to. The bed is warm and they're so comfortable and what's the harm of calling out....

Eddie who notices they're still laying down, eyes closed and in that fighting off being awake state and he knows there's only so many snoozes they can hit before they're definitely going to be running late so he sneaks under the covers....

and he doesn't come back up again until reader is awake, a tired, but satisfied smile on their face as they blink up at the ceiling. He presses some kisses to their lips/cheek/neck, slick and smelling like them, going "Hi, pretty. Ready to get up now?"

nauuurrr anon 😞 we will miss you but hope u see this after ur shift 💖 eeeheeeeheeeheee I’m literally kicking my feet behind my back sleepover-style giggling at this. that ellipses is so sinister I gotta help it out

+18 mdni

cw: R receives oral + fingering while sleeping (has been previously discussed as a 👍), somno, Eddie’s a soft!dom

___

Eddie’s always so attentive to your needs and state of being- he’s naturally super empathetic. by no means a morning person himself, he learns quickly that the rhythm of your day is usually set by how you wake up.

he’s dealt with the consequences of you having been off to a bad start, before- it takes a huge amount of cajoling or kisses or swinging by the diner for waffles to shake you out of a grumpy funk. and based on the way you’ve been tossing and turning this morning, you’re about to have the most miserable work shift ever.

what he doesn’t have this morning, though, is a lot of time- waffles will have to be for another day. he’s got an even better idea for a sweet wakeup.

he moves slow, weight in his hands on either side of your sleeping frame, kissing as he moves down your body. first to your bare shoulder. then to the side of that pretty nightie’s strap. one for your pebble nipple, peaking through the silk.

Eddie trails his kisses down- one on your stomach, one for the bump of your cunt- pulling the sheets away as he goes.

with fingers nimble and dextrous, he feels for the band of your underwear while keeping his eyes on your face, careful to pause if your expression changes. the goal is to keep you pliant, for this next part…

he gets his head under the edge of your nightdress, pussy fully exposed to the eager lappings of his mouth. with one hand on your stomach to keep your center grounded, Eddie slips the middle two fingers of his other hand into your slippery cunt.

a soft shift of your hips, a whimper, and Eddie moves his hands with your pelvis, using the momentum to dip and catch your clit in his mouth.

he follows with his head as your hips sink back down into the mattress, sucking hard on your beating clit as he goes.

you must’ve been having a dirty dream, ‘cuz you’re already so tight around his fingers, slick pooling in his palm. he laps noisily into your cunt, wet squelch of his fingers bringing you to bleary consciousness.

“whuh- uh- oh fuck, Eddie-”

your legs jerk close on impulse, trapping his head between your thighs, and Eddie thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. fully clothed, about to cream his jeans from eating his girl out. sure, he’s down to meet god, but can it wait a second?

“was dreamin’ you- ah, yeah, there- dreamin’ of you doing this to me. fuck…” your voice ends in a hoarse rasp, your hands shooting into Eddie’s hair, tugging at the roots.

he ruts into the mattress, cock leaking steadily into the fabric of his briefs, humming with pleasure against your clit.

your back arches off the mattress, he hears that tell-tale, breathy little gasp, and you’re gone- clenching around his fingers like a vice, flooding against his pistoning fingers.

he’s gone just as soon as you, coming in hot spurts with each upstroke against the quilt below, moaning into your pussy.

he kisses a sticky trail back up your body, sliding your nightie strap into place, loving and firm- “morning, princess. go take a shower, and no complaining. as a thank you for the wake up gift- ‘kay?”

you wouldn’t dream of complaining, nodding easily to his command, sleepy and sated smile on your face. your arms reach to encircle his shoulders, and Eddie leans in for a kiss- he tastes like you.

#eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #somno #tw somno

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beababoobies · 2 months

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HORNY SAPPHIC IMAGINES

(for your enjoyment.)

🎀 Imagine you’re a servant, a footwoman for a high lady and her husband in the 1800s, yearning for the high lady herself, only to one day get trapped up in her garden with her, looking her in the eyes for a second too long as she gently grabs your face, kissing you passionately, and as you pull back in shock and internal guilt, whispering to her “but my lady, I don’t deserve this, you cannot tarnish yourself with my image.” Only for her to cradle you gently and whisper back “you were built by Aphrodite herself, my love, one must forgive me for taking a bite of the sweetest fruit.” Which leads to her teasing you at every moment she can, gently fingering you and groping you in her quarters with the doors locked, praising you softly as her true love.

🎀 Imagine a giant white room, dimly lit by hundreds of candles, and inside is you and tens of women covered in silk robes, gently touching each other while covered in rose petals , a giant statue of the goddess herself Aphrodite in the middle of the room you all worship through your mutual pleasure, your head on a soft woman’s chest, greedily lapping at her breasts while she runs her fingers through your hair, praising you for your prayer, “you’re doing so well sweetheart, praying to your goddess and giving her everything you have.” another woman, sweet as sugar, gently licking and sucking at you from behind, nails gently running along your thighs softly, leaving you breathless and panting, looking up at the women in front of you with watery doe eyes.

🎀 Imagine an older rich woman who promised to take care of you, sweetly treating you the whole day, glaring at anyone who dares look at you wrong, complimenting you and praising you for how gorgeous you look in everything she’s bought you, only to tear it all off at the end of the day, your hair and expensive makeup a messy of tears and spit as she forces you to take her strap over and over again, your head pushed into her silk pillows as she pounds you from behind, your hands bound behind your back. “Look at you, filthy little cumslut, just taking it until you can barely breathe, hmm?” degrading you as she forces another orgasm out of you, before sitting on your face as she holds a vibrator to your ruined and drenched cunt, bucking her hips against your mouth as you try to put all your remaining energy into eating her out clean, your hips twitching and jerking. “You’re trying so hard to be a good slut for mommy, hmm? But you’re just so used and fucked out~”

🎀 Imagine a small farmland, being approached by the rough and tough transfem farmhand your mother hired to help you look after the animals, months upon months of checking her out behind her back, gleaming at her tall and large stature, having to take a long moment when she patted you on the back or praised you for doing something right, only to find her in her barn room one night, frustrated and bucking against her hand while whining your name, flustered and stuttering as you climb on-top of her, only to pull your panties to the side and ride her like your life depended on it, degrading her and roughly pounding yourself down onto her girlcock while she grips onto your waist like her life depends on it, whining and bucking into you, “you feel s-so good ma’am.” leaves her lips again and again, her southern accent bleeding through her whines. “Please, m-ma’am, I’m gonna’ c-cum if you keep doing that, gonna knock you up!”

yeah, just… imagine. <;3

#wlw nsft #wlw post #wlw ns/fw #wlw #wlw love #sapphic #lesbian #sapphic love #queer nsft #nsft ramble #wlw smut #sapphic nsft #sapphic smut

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eddiernunson · 11 months

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Halloween Party | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie x Fem!Reader story Trapped (go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

I am really proud of this part of the story so I thought it might deserve to stand by itself.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: It's a threesome with less experienced Eddie. No aftercare, daddy kink, faceriding, praise kink, double penetration, and hooking up under the influence. Eddie and Reader are in an established relationship for about a month at this point.

Halloween in 1985 is on a Friday, lucky fucking seniors. Steve Harrington has some words about this, seeing as his senior year’s Halloween was on a Thursday.

You, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and the rest of the seniors at Hawkins High spent all week buzzing about the upcoming holiday. Sure, some think Halloween is invented by the candy companies to make more money, but no senior can deny the value of getting absolutely wasted at Steve Harrington’s house. When you’re a young child the very appeal of Halloween comes from the free candy and running amok the neighbourhoods, but to a horny teen in rural Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 the appeal is free alcohol and many rooms to hook up at the Harrington’s. The incentive to have a sickening costume and have genuine excitement for the holiday.

On Monday you and Eddie drive over to the local costume shop to grab your costumes, giggling as Eddie suggests you be a sexy witch, or even worse, a sexy pig. How the hell is that even sexy anyway?

When the two of you go to the front desk with the costumes landing with a soft plop, the front counter girl giving you two a one up as she witnesses the downright irony of the freak of Hawkins High being an angel for Halloween. “Please tell me you are going to Harrington’s party.” She says, entering the prices into her computer.

“Yep.” Eddie says, giving you a look.

“Thank God. I cannot wait to see the Freak dressed in all white as a fucking angel.” She giggles, excitedly placing your costumes in a plastic bag.

Eddie grabs your hand, holding you back from swinging at her for outright insulting your boyfriend. “Not worth it. She means well.” He whispers, then giving her a fake smile and tugging you toward the door.

On Friday during lunch Eddie announces that for one time and one time only he is cancelling Hellfire for Halloween, claiming he doesn’t have any time to go to the party and lead Hellfire.

Of course, he was met with groans of how hypocritical he was and how lame it was to cancel Hellfire when Halloween fell perfectly on a Friday. He didn’t care, smirking at you across the cafeteria as he places his two pointer fingers on his head to mimic a devil. You place your hands together as if you were an angel in response, igniting laughter out of him.

This leads to you standing in front of your mirror tugging on the short yet leathery red dress you were wearing, your fingers rubbing against the bright red nail polish you wore. You self consciously rub your tummy, the dress much lower cut than you had expected. Your hair was teased and curled, sprayed into oblivion as you knew the devil horns was going to get all tangled up in your hair.

The plastic tail that came with the horns occasionally brushed up against your legs, something you weren’t used to. You wore red flats as to not hurt your feet through the night, your eyeshadow a bright red blended out to your brows to high heavens and your lipstick glossy and ruby red. This was as good as it was gonna get.

You went downstairs, your mom offering you a ride, so you didn’t drive, Eddie getting a ride from Wayne for the same reasons. “You look amazing!” Your mom shouts, causing you to shy look at your feet as she looks at you in a new way.

“Is Eddie going as a devil, too?” She asks as she grabs the keys. The two of you walk to her small car, a car she bought for herself when she was no longer driving you around anymore in a big van.

“No,” you say, keeping your knees awkwardly together as you get into the car. “He’s an angel.”

“Funny.” Your mom deadpans, rolling her eyes as she rolls out of the driveway.

You pull up to the party a half hour late, basically on time for Steve’s parties. You saw a few groups of people making their way up the driveway of Steve’s massive house, the sight of it feeling almost alien as you’re now used to the quiet of his parents out of town and you, Robin and Steve hanging out in his living room.

She drops you off, making a half a joke about staying safe, but you heard the truth behind it. “Love you!” you call, waddling over to the front door.

You hear the music as soon as you get out of your mom’s car, hearing the loud voice of Whitney Houston asking to dance with somebody. Reaching the wide-open front door, the heat of the house already radiating from the dancing teens hitting you as you walk in. You almost regretted wearing faux leather now. You scanned the room, seeing Steve and Robin in the corner. Steve was dressed as Peter Pan and Robin as Tinkerbelle. Her outfit wasn’t nearly as revealing as the blonde cartoon character, but it was clear from the green shirt and cargo pants with the fairy wings on her back and glitter on her face she was Tinkerbelle. “Hi Peter!” you say, shouting over the music.

“Oh, shit!” Steve says as he gives you a one-up at your red and daring get up. “You look.” He gives a look to Robin and manages to gain the breath you took away from him. “I think Eddie will cream his pants on the spot let’s just say that.”

“I hope not I want to wait until we get to one of the rooms.” You joke and turn towards the counter where red solo cups are sitting pretty waiting for new consumers.

Steve leans back in exasperation, mad at his dick for betraying him. “Okay, well I’m gonna have a drink, did you want something?”

“Hell no,” you mutter, grabbing your own. “Last time you mixed me a vodka soda you nearly made me tipsy one drink in.”

“That was the goal!” He yells, laughing as the vodka glugs into his cup.

“So, where’s Wendy?” you ask, yet understanding the irony of their costumes and why Robin isn’t dressed as Wendy for the night.

“Oh, she’s my date!” Steve says, nodding his chin over towards a girl in brown hair dressed in a blue pajama dress that was only down to her thighs. “Brittany, you’ll meet her later! You’re gonna love her, I promise!”

“Can’t wait!” you say unenthusiastically, already having met many of Steve’s latest dates. You mix your own drink, knowing Steve will let you drink any of his alcohol.

You dance absentmindedly to Thriller, your eyes rolling as it plays at a Halloween party. By the time song #6 plays and your inhibitions are somewhat already gone, you’ve gone through two drinks and can feel some the affects of alcohol affecting your system.

You have your hand with the drink up in the air, side stepping to the beat now in a circle with Steve, Robin, and Brittany, and suddenly you feel an arm snake around your midriff. “Hi, my sexy little devil,” you hear low in your left ear.

You have half a mind to tell the mysterious man to back off because you had an awesome boyfriend who would kick his ass, but your train of thought was stopped in its tracks when it was him. Eddie was there, two arms laid on your shoulders, and you take in Eddie dressed in all his angelic glory. He had his hair slicked back into a ponytail, a white button-down shirt and a white pair of paints with a halo head band resting on his gelled up hair and a small pair of angel wings on his back. To top it off, he had some glitter on his cheek bones, and the only thing you see that’s normal about your boyfriend is his rings. Thank God he’s still wearing the rings.

“Jesus, who are you and where is Eddie Munson?” you ask, your words partially slurred. “Is that glitter on your cheeks?”

Eddie laughs at your slurred speech, astounded you were already so intoxicated. “One of my bandmembers LARPS in his free time, he has way more glitter than you could imagine.”

Your face is awestruck to this information. “That’s very resourceful of you.”

Eddie laughs, walking over to the table to pour himself a drink. He looks up anxiously, wondering if any of his classmates were giving him dirty looks. So far, so good. He pours too much baileys into a coke, wanting to get on your level, so to speak. “Well, give me ten minutes, ok? I need to catch up.”

“Ten minutes? Good luck with that.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you are dancing in the living room, both of your cares gone. He was right. It only took ten minutes for him to get as drunk as you were, but by the time he got there, you were another drink and a half in, your drunk competitiveness shining through. He has his arm wrapped around you and if he was sober enough to care he would blanch at the pop songs that seem to be exclusively playing through the speakers, but he only knew the beat and his thigh placed between your legs as you two grinded.

You can’t tell how much time goes by as you’re lost in the beat with him, noting the sweat gathering on his forehead and the light pain burning into your thighs as you stay half bent for a good while. You were lost with his hands placed on your ass when you hear from someone, loud and clear. “Why is the freak here? When Harrington said the rules, I didn’t think he was being serious! God, I don’t want to see that shit!”

Eddie, in his drunken haze is pulled out of the intoxication that was your body against his and scans the room quickly to find Steve going through his tapes. “Harrington!” He calls, his arm leaving your waist as he stumbles across. “Harrington!”

By this time, Steve Harrington is also drunk and, in his haze, had to keep his eyes from roaming to you across the room desperately grinding on what he wished was thigh, but was Eddie’s. Shit was getting complicated, and he was not a big fan. “Uh yeah?”

“You said point, ya? Point and they’re gone?” Eddie clarifies before making a fool out of himself.

It takes a moment for Steve to comprehend what Eddie was going on about. “Uh, yeah. Point, and they’re banned.”

Eddie points dramatically across the room to where one of the jocks was chatting up a girl dressed as a bunny (predictable) and raises is eyebrows at Steve.

“Oh! Shit, Okay gotchya.” Steve walks as confidently as he can over to the jock, even in his own drunken and confused haze, and grabs the over towering jock by the shoulder. “Get out.”

“Wait, what?” He asks, turning to face Steve.

“Get. Out.” Steve says, pointing to the door. “You knew the rules. You even so much as look at Munson wrong, you’re out. Out!”

“You were serious about that shit? He and his little slut girlfriend were grinding all over the room, you expect me to not say anything about that? Bullshit!” He yells, making a big scene.

Eddie saw red as soon as he heard him call you a slut. Yeah, he calls you a slut all the time, but that was for his enjoyment alone. He runs across the room to him, and his hands are in fists ready to throw punches.

“Hey!” Steve yells, pushing him lightly off the bewildered jock. “Let me handle this.” He looks back to the jock and holds back his own want to pummel him into the dirt. Steve doesn’t have good track record with picking fights, but each time it was for a noble cause, and this sounds noble enough. “Get the fuck out of my house. No more hook up parties for Bongo.”

Steve has a few other friends of his that were his age help him yank the asshole outside, now much easier with the help.

“This is almost too much power.” Eddie mumbles as people are no longer shooting him anything remotely close to a dirty look. He glances to you, and your arms are now across your stomach, and you’re hunched over. “Hey.” He mutters, too drunk for this he decides as he tries to calm you down.

“Hi.” You whisper, the gloss of a tear forming in your eye. “Does everyone think I’m a slut? Is that why you call me one?”

Fuck. Eddie shushes you, pulling you into his arms. “No, no. He’s an asshole with asshole opinions. I call you one because I thought it would be sexy and fun. I only call you one when we’re both enjoying each other, yeah?”

“Oh. Okay. Can we get more drinks?” You ask, missing the buzz you lost from the adrenaline of watching your boyfriend defend your honour.

“Sure, baby.”

The two of you down two more drinks each, ending up on Steve’s couch as Steve is telling a story about something that happened in the pool, he worked at with a shithead kid. “I’m telling you! This kid lived to make trouble. I had to beg our manager to let me ban him, but every time Don would come for evidence the kid was a fucking, well Eddie I guess.”

You and Eddie giggle as well as the ones who were listening to him. Logically, there’s no possibility you should be able to hear him with the music still bursting through the speakers. Yet, there were about nine or ten of you gathered on the couch and you could hear every word. You were sat on Eddie’s lap, stroking his hair, however gelled and gross it may feel while you were sober. You didn’t care.

Steve wrapped up his story, talking quietly to Brittany and Robin. You barely had spoken to Brittany all night like Steve had promised, but from the “eeugh” looks he kept giving Robin about what she would say you guessed you wouldn’t be getting to know her anyways.

You looked at your boyfriend, and noticed his brown eyes were turned downward at your red (smeared) lips. “See something you like, handsome?” you ask, voice low and feeling his boner underneath your thighs.

“I see a lot of what I like.” He mutters, and you swear in your drunken haze he is slowly getting closer to you. You feel your eyes close, and Eddie’s lips are on yours, his tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth, feeling electric as you move to straddle him. He kisses you with fervour, his hands finding their way frantically into your wild and teased hair.

Your hips grinds itself to his, and you hear a wolf whistle coming from a couch cushion right next to you. You look over, your red lips even more smeared and Eddie has his own share of it on his.

“Get a room.” Robin states, still only lightly buzzed and sipping out of her red solo cup. “Seriously I don’t wanna see this. Go.”

You look at Eddie, his lipstick-covered lips barely even registering to you, you’re too fucking horny and drunk for that to even register. You grab his hand and tug him up the stairs. You knock on three doors, each one of them someone yells out it’s occupied. Finally, you get to the one at the end of the hall, and no one answers when you knock.

You hesitate to open, scared to see some live action porn but Eddie opens it for you, impatient, and wanting your devil costume on the floor. He shuts it behind you and thank God there’s a fucking bed in here. The lack of light is providing a vision impairment, but you didn’t really care, your lips latched onto his like the answer to world peace is in the back of his throat. You frantically start unbuttoning his shirt, your intoxicated body stumbling through each one. You’re on the last button when Eddie rips off his shirt, the button rolling across the hardwood floor. He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress and letting it slide down your waist.

You step out of your costume, the tail going with it. You reach up to take out your horns but Eddie places his hand on your wrist, stopping you. “Wear them. They’re hot.” Eddie mumbles, leaning in to kiss down your neck.

“Does that mean you wear your halo?” You ask, giggling as you look at the sparkly overpriced pipe cleaner.

“How am I supposed to eat you out with this on?” He asks, pushing you to guide you towards the four postered bed. He hanks the halo off, tossing it with the busted button.

You lie down on the bed, your legs spread showing the lacy black panties you wore and the strapless bra for the strappy dress. You shivered in anticipation to what he was going to do to you, your chest heaving.

“Roll onto your stomach, baby.” He mutters. When you silently listen to his command, he slaps your ass lightly, causing a moan to escape your mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He slips your panties down your ass, and you hear his belt buckle and fly being zipped down. “Daddy is gonna fuck you for a little bit then I will make you cum, okay baby?”

Eddie slips into you, bottoming out with no time to let you adjust. “Holy shit, baby, you are so wet.” He mutters, already starting to thrust into you slowly. “Are you all revved up, my little devil?”

You nod, but Eddie barely sees as your face is pushed into the pillow, headbanded devil horns slightly too rough against your scalp. “C’mon tell me with your words.”

You lift your head, forced to use your hand as support. “Was so horny. You look so fucking hot. I love your cock, daddy, feels so good.”

“Love your fucking pussy, baby. So pretty, so tight, so wet, just for daddy. Fucking love my little slut’s pussy.” In Eddie’s mind he cannot stop thinking how much your wet heat just feels so good around him. He needs a taste, wanted to be drunk on your greedy little cunt. Without warning you his cock leaves your pussy, and he gives you a big lap down your pussy lips. “Holy shit, baby. Your pussy tastes,” he pauses, giving another lick to your wet slick. “Fucking good. Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue contacting your pussy sends pleasure waves down your body, despite your intoxication. You lean back into the pillow, moaning loudly so no one in the next rooms can hear you. Even with the pillow muffling you, he can hear you loud and clear, digging into it like a man starved. He wraps his ring-clad fingers around your thighs, grabbing onto them harshly.

As Eddie gets into your pussy and takes in every drop he can possibly swallow and you hike your ass up more and moan louder into the pillow, either of you hear a heavy set of footsteps walking down the hall and closer and closer to the unlocked door.

If you did hear what was transpiring, you would hear Steve Harrington knocking on his bedroom door, wondering if any of the couples had made his way into the room. He heard faint moaning, but he was too drunk to understand it had come from the other side of his door. He opened the door, seeing no light on and no other reason to think anyone was in there and walked on in, only to stop dead in his tracks. The sight of you bent over the very pillows his head was leant on thinking about you with his cock in his hand last week caused his already slight hard on to get harder, the sight of Eddie eating you out doing nothing to help his situation. He knew he had a light attraction to Eddie, something he had put off for years, but the sight of the two of you so emersed in it not to even notice him had him gawking in his doorway.

Eddie places his thumb on your clit, slowly rotating it on your swollen bud and Steve sees as your thighs tense up immensely and you can barely support yourself on your knees. Eddie moves his head back to rub his two fingers on your folds, watching as they caused more slick to gush out of your folds. Eddie is so entranced by his fingers against your pussy, he suddenly notices the light from the hallway and a very specific shadow in the doorway.

He looks back over his shoulder to see Steve Harrington, slips his two fingers into you, your ass hiking up in response. “Oh shit!” You yell into the pillow are oblivious to any light cascaded onto the bed.

“Hi.” Eddie mutters, fucking his fingers into you and shooting a darkened glance to Steve, who was unashamedly watching his limber fingers moving. He looks down to where Steve is watching and smirks. “She’s pretty, ain’t she?” he asks, licking his lips as he switches his glance between the two of you.

“Y-yeah.” Steve mutters, his hand moving to palm himself in his green Peter Pan costume. “Very pretty.”

“You wanna taste?” Eddie asks, somewhere a sober version of him asking what the fuck he was doing, but his inhibitions already flown away and not coming back until tomorrow.

“U-uh, what?” He asks, making sure he heard Eddie right.

“Her pretty little pussy. You wanna taste?” Eddie says and leans in to give a long stripe of wet up your folds.

“D-daddy feels so good.” You should in the pillow still unaware your pussy was on full display for the man who you’ve been accidentally dreaming about for a week.

“Holy shit.” Steve mumbles. He looks at Eddie and nods his head, and Eddie is suddenly put into action. He moves you easily so you’re on your back, and when you face the light and the man silhouette in front of you, your eyes take a moment to adjust to him.

Suddenly Steve’s presence is known by you, and you want to close your legs in embarrassment despite Eddie still having two of his fingers fucking into you. “Baby.” He says, crawling up your body. “Can Steve have a taste?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, starting at Steve who was palming himself and staring openly at between your legs. Despite your protests, Eddie feels your pussy gush and become wetter at the sight of Steve, and he understands your body wants what is immoral to have while you are dating him.

“Can Steve taste this nice wet little pussy of yours?” He asks kissing your neck to butter you up. “I felt you get wetter at seeing him look at you. It’s okay if you want it.”

“Yes.” You whisper, afraid he would get mad at you and claim to set you up as a test.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie grabs him and reaches in to kiss Steve harshly on the lips, his tongue colliding with Steve’s as soon as they start kissing, Steve starting to lead him, noting the lack of experience and confidence in kissing someone besides you for the first time. You watch them make out, your fingers latching onto your clit and rubbing it as you Steve and Eddie get lost in each other, Eddie palming Steve as Steve moans loudly.

“C’mon, have a taste.” Eddie mutters, grabbing Steve’s hand and escorting him to sit in-between your legs.

Steve needs no more encouragement. You shiver in anticipation as you had heard the stories of Steve’s expert tongue for the last two years, both from Nancy and the girls he had slept with when he realized nothing else was there for him.

He leans in with more confidence than Eddie, his tongue longer and wider in size. He licks a long stripe up your pussy, licking onto your clit hard, causing a red heat to burst from it and down your thighs. You hike your legs up and around his head, the shaking of your thighs uncontrollable and the moans from your mouth loud and sinful.

Steve’s hand makes it way up your body, latching underneath your bra and grabbing your nipple. “You taste so goddamn good.” He sighs, his hot breath erotic on your puffy pussy lips. “Way better than I even imagined.”

You open your eyes to see Steve’s eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, fully immersed in the taste and feeling of you. You look up to face your boyfriend who was jerking himself off at the sight of you and Steve together. “You have no idea, Stevie. Wait until she squirts all over your fucking face. There’s nothing like it.”

“Can’t fucking wait.” Steve’s other thumb makes its way into your asshole, something Eddie has never even thought to do.

“Oh my god” you squeal, your eyes opening wide in response. “Stevie feels so fucking good.”

Eddie makes his way to one side of the bed, his cock right by your face. “Suck on my cock, princess.”

You reach out, jerking him off and tugging him towards your mouth. Eddie pushes his cock into your mouth, fucking your throat slowly as you can feel a slow heat start to creep from your stomach and through your legs. “Holy shit, that mouth of yours you suck so well.” Eddie mutters, keeping eye contact with Steve lapping up the juices coming out of you faster.

Your hole puckers around Steve’s thumb, it takes time to adjust. He feels your hole start to cling onto it, as if begging Steve’s thumb to creep further in. “Little cunt is very greedy.” Steve comments as he starts to fuck his tongue into your pussy hole.

The raw feeling of Eddie’s cock fucking now relentlessly into your mouth, Steve’s thumb in your ass and his tongue fucking into you became too much to bear. “Oh shit.” You whimper around Eddie’s cock. “I’m close”

“Is she allowed to cum, yet Stevie?” Eddie asks, placing his ring-clad fingers in your hair harshly against your scalp.

“Has she been good?” Steve asks, huffing as he can feel your stomach tighten up and your legs tense.

“Such a good fucking girl.” Eddie mutters, still fucking your throat. You can start to feel tears threaten to fall down your face from the feeling of his cock becoming too much in your mouth and your jaw start to hurt.

“Okay.” Steve mutters, sounding almost bored, the very tone almost hurting your feelings as you’re so fucking overwhelmed by everything they’re giving you. Steve sucks on your clit harshly, the familiar feeling of a heat spreading from your clit, through your stomach and floating into your head and the same little voice tells you to let go. You gush all over Steve’s face, moaning around Eddie’s cock and careful not to bite down on how good it feels.

Steve licks his mouth, not expecting you to squirt on him right from the get-go, but loving the feeling nonetheless. “Holy shit. Ed, you were right. Nothing like it. I’m gonna fuck her now.”

“Tell me how the slut’s pussy feels, Stevie.”

Steve asks Eddie to bring his cock out of your mouth and yanks your ass, so your back is now right on top of your stain you made on Steve’s bed. “Oh, I will.” Steve brings his pants down to his ankles, and you drool at the sight of his cock. It’s bigger than what you were accustomed to with Eddie, but the very image of it made you pray he would put it into your mouth.

Steve lines himself up to your pussy, the slick from your squirting making you wet enough for him to slide right in. Your jaw drops as he enters, Eddie jerking himself off from the sight of it. Steve leans down to finally kiss you, and you attempt to lead him like you’re used to but quickly get scolded into Steve leading you. He expertly uses his tongue on yours, bucking his hips harshly against yours all the while, not stopping to do either one like Eddie might do sometimes.

“Jesus,” you mutter, your mouth hanging open as you can’t concentrate on kissing him.

Steve stops his movements. “Kiss me. You can do it, baby. Keep kissing me.” You do what he says, moans coming from a guttural place in the back of this throat as his holds his hand around your neck.

Eddie comes up beside you after watching this, almost perfectly content in this threesome becoming a twosome with him watching from the corner. “Baby I’m gonna fuck your ass.” You nod at him, letting go of Steve’s kiss and reaching for the familiarity of Eddie’s. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

Steve gets up, knowing Eddie won’t be able to properly fuck you if he’s lying on top of you. You whine at the loss of Steve’s cock, but he barely gives you a chance to even revel in the feeling of it. He grabs you by the hand, yanks you off his bed without any effort. The blanket is torn off as well, now covered in your slick, but he just wanted the light sheets instead of his heavy comforter.

Steve lies down, getting you to crawl on top of him. “Put my cock in your pussy so Eddie can fuck that tight little asshole of yours, baby.” Steve commands, soft and barely showing that any of this is affecting him like you and Eddie both desperately are. You do as he asks, lying so your ass is perfectly in perfect aim for Eddie to slide into and sinking down onto his cock. “That’s a good girl. Now Ed slide into that little asshole of hers.”

“Does she need lube or anything?” Eddie asks, watching and jerking himself absentmindedly as he watches you get fucked from below. He gets to fuck you every day if he wants to, but he never gets to see you get fucked quite like this.

“Oh my god you really were a virgin.” Steve says, hearing your moans loud in his ear as he continues to fuck you. “No just spit on that little hole and ram into her, she’ll adjust fine.”

Eddie listens, licking your asshole for a few moments, spitting generously onto it. You can feel him lining his nice cock to your second hole, and you close your eyes, excited to be filled by both men who have been in your fantasies in recent years. Eddie barely gives you time to register the head of his cock in your hole when he continues in, and you feel so full.

Full is a word, but it barely describes it. You are so filled to the brim that your body shakes and convulses, Steve stopping his movements to let you adjust to the feeling. “How’s that feel, baby?” Steve asks, looking in awe at your pleasure-stricken face. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You lean onto Steve’s body, his nipples peaked as one of your pinkies tugs onto it with out realizing. “Baby is so cock drunk she can’t even speak.” Steve comments, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie.

“Oh, she’s not that dumbed out on cock is she, Stevie?” Eddie asks, waiting until Steve tells him to start fucking you.

Steve chuckles, leaning in to kiss your neck with little kitten licks in between each bite. “Let’s find out.”

Steve’s hips start moving and Eddie takes it as the go ahead. If you thought you felt full before, it was nothing compared to the two men’s cock moving in sync, your mouth opening involuntarily at the overwhelming, all intoxicating pleasure they were thrusting into you. Every part of your body, every inch of your skin was covered in fire. You couldn’t even tell if you were close again or not because your body has never felt this good. Steve notices the slack jaw of yours, and places who of his fingers inside your mouth. “Aw, poor baby.”

“How’s her pussy, Stevie?” Eddie’s gruff voice asks, and by the look of his mixed-up face and stuttering thrusts Steve can tell he’s already close.

“Fucking fantastic. You should see her face. All fucked out. Never seen such a pretty little face.” He compliments you, bringing his spare hand to frame your face, tangling his hands in your teased hair. “Fuck you looked so fucking hot tonight. Whoever told you to dress like a devil I wanna fucking kiss them”

“Already did, Stevie.” Eddie chuckles, doing his best to hold back from cumming but doing a terrible job on his face.

“Eddie, you need to cum, baby?” Steve asks, absentmindedly continuing to fuck you.

“Mmhm.” He mutters, his hands fierce on your hips and even you can tell he’s really holding back in your dazed out brain.

“Then cum.” Eddie stops resisting, and shoots his cum right into your ass, a heavier load than you have ever received from him. Steve stops thrusting too, kissing you as Eddie finishes shooting his gooey white substance into you. “How is our fucked out little baby?” Steve asks, looking at you with half lidded eyes.

“Mm. Good.” You mumble kissing Steve back with more energy and enthusiasm than you knew you had in you still.

Steve sits up, silently commanding Eddie to leave your ass as he takes his own cock out of your pussy. “I’m going to eat you out and Eddie is going to suck on my cock,” he looks at Eddie, “and swallow every drop. Understood?”

“Yes.” Eddie says, already somewhat hard from being ordered like this.

“Good boy.” Steve moves the three of you effortlessly so he’s lying down on the bed, you’re sitting on his face, and Eddie is sucking his cock. You sit on Steve so you’re facing your boyfriend, watching as he’s jerking Steve off and about to suck a cock for the first time. “Has Eddie ever sucked cock before?” Steve asks, noting the hesitation.

“No.” You answer for him, watching as the same wonder you had staring at Eddie’s cock is on Eddie’s face.

“Baby, be a good girl and teach him, will ya?” Steve asks, latching his tongue onto your pussy lips without a second’s hesitation.

“O-okay,” you whimper, the feeling of Steve’s expert tongue already sending you fast over the edge. You take a moment to reel the heat spreading from your sensitive pussy, not sent over the edge from the double penetration but almost too fucked out to understand if you were.

“Teach him.” Steve barks out, running out of patience.

“Sorry.” You whimper. You look to your boyfriend, who looks up at you for all the answers. You sucked his cock well after all. “Okay. Take-ah” you take a moment to whimper as Steve rewards you by sucking onto your clit. “Take his cock into your mouth but be careful of your teeth. I don’t bite, but I do use my teeth to suck on your cock harder.” You whimper, Steve now building a slow rhythm as a reward. “Fuck, Steve,”

Eddie tentatively starts sucking on Steve’s cock, his cheeks hollowing out, copying something he saw from you, and understanding what you meant by not using your teeth to bite but to suck. As soon as he has the feeling of Steve’s big cock in his mouth, he looks to you for more help.

“Bob your head up and down but roll it almost for a really good rhythm.” You teach him more, as the coil starts to form in the pit of your stomach from both the feeling of Steve eating you out unapologetically and watching Eddie work hard on pleasing Steve. Teaching Eddie led to Steve moaning, which lead to a vibration being sent up your pussy. Steve’s hips start to move on their own accord, and you watch as Eddie struggles to regain his rhythm. “Eddie, let him fuck your throat. As soon as your hips start moving, I let you do all the work.”

You leant down to grab onto Eddie’s ponytail, holding on to it to help Steve fuck his throat better. You didn’t expect to be so turned on by it, but Steve could feel the juices leaking out of you, faster as you get closer.

“Fuck, Stevie, I’m close.” You say one hand still on Eddie but your nails clawing into Steve’s chest.

“Wait til I cum, baby. I’m close too.” Steve says, and for the first time since he walked in he sounded like he was enjoying himself.

It was just less than a minute of Steve thrusting into Eddie’s mouth when he finally finishes, giving no warning as his mouth was still on you. “Cum, baby.” He mutters, and the coil in your stomach finally snaps with what felt like an actual snap in your tummy. The orgasm is all consuming, and flutters all around your extended limbs and crosses your eyes. Eddie swallows around Steves cock, and you cum into Steve’s mouth as you watch him, Eddie leaning up and showing you all Steve’s cum in his mouth. You lean in to kiss Eddie, lapping some of Steve’s cum into your mouth, wanting to share the taste of him. Steve bites your thigh to get off his face and you and Eddie look up at him to show him what you’ve been doing.

Steve leans up onto his elbows, laughing in disbelief as he sees the two of your cocked out faces visibly and audibly swallow his cum. “Fuck. That went better than I could’ve expected.” Steve laughs, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

You climb off him, grabbing Eddie’s hand to do the same. “I mean, I pictured it, but never expected it to come true.” You admit, looking around in the dark for your costume.

“I knew you did.” Steve mutters, glad of the confirmation of the lingering touches that’s been occurring more often and more recently. “I fucking knew it.”

“What now?” Eddie asks, and you and Steve look at each other, a mutual agreement.

There was nothing past this. No lingering need for Steve to be your boyfriend and you, his girlfriend. The need and desire the both of you had was purely physical, and now you had it out of your systems. “Honestly, I think we both agree it’s physical.” You admit, hoping Eddie wasn’t ready for a full throuple.

“Okay good. I’m a bit relieved, then.” Eddie admits, also shallow enough to admit for him it was only physical to Steve. “Now I know you’re willing to bat for the other team though.” Eddie laughs.

“Ditto.” Steve retorts, stretching in his bed. “Alright. I’m going back downstairs. I’ll see you both later.” Steve gets back into his costume, fixes his hair and feathered hat in the mirror and gives you both a gentle forehead kiss to trot on downstairs.

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, looking for the light switch by feeling up the wall in the dark. “That was..”

“Intense.” You mutter, waddling into his arms, still naked.

“Any regrets?” you ask, the memories of your double penetration sharp in your mind and all the over stimulation that came with it.

“God, no. That was sick. Plus, not everyone gets to say within the first dozen times they’ve had sex one of them was a threesome.” Eddie chuckles, now scanning the room so the two of you can get dressed.

“Hate to break it to you, baby, but your hair is so messy.” You tell him, his baby hairs flying away from the jail of the gel on his head.

“Eh. They didn’t think we went up for snacks.” Eddie shrugs, passing you your dress and panties.

You mutter a thanks and the two of you get dressed back into your couple’s costume, and you wonder what he will think of next year, too. Every Halloween, you couldn’t wait until the one where you had your first kid, when Eddie is a middle-aged long-haired metal head and you’re passing out candies with all your teenagers out doing whatever.

It was a scary thought considering how new your relationship was, but it was intense and something you’ve never felt. The longing to be with someone. Forever.

The two of you went downstairs, your red lipstick now entirely gone, some of it on Eddie’s mouth, some on his cock. Some of it was even on Steve’s mouth. As you reached the couch, sitting the same way you were before but without hormones kicking in.

Robin sits next to you two and makes an astute observation as she just left a conversation with Steve for him to let Brittany down gently. “Hey, Eddie. Your lips look just like Steve’s. He has the same red on his-” Robin’s eyes widen and her mouth slaps across her face in astonishment.

“You didn’t!” she says, leaning in not to grab attention. As if it were possible, the party still going strong and the music bumping.

“Sorry Robin,” Eddie shrugs the back of his hand slowly rubbing against your lower back. “I don’t suck dick and tell.”

Robin’s eyes go wide at this, and she runs to go ask Steve the same thing for confirmation. The two of you don’t pay attention to their conversation, too wrapped up in a bubble of falling but not quite in love. You two kiss, the tension of wanting to fuck no longer there. Just, absolute care and affection. You swear you could hear Nancy fake gag as she sits next to you on the couch, but Eddie responds how he usually would.

A white painted middle finger high, not care in the world.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x y/n #steve harringon x you #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut

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buckgasms · 1 year

Note

PLEASEEEE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A PART TWO TO DADDY!BUCKY FINDS PRINCESS’ SPICY BOOK!!!! YOU HAD ME AT THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!!!!

Ok ok I cannot resist! Just promise to keep sending in ✨amazing requests✨

Part One

Also this went so off course but I hope you enjoy it 😂

Princess would definitely definitely buy a book about a millionaire with a sugar baby or an alpha hunting an omega because let's face it, princesses don't need to think much when they have an imaginative Daddy amiright?

But anyway.....

So while you read the highlighted sections, Bucky had you trapped on his lap, fingers in your folds and rubbing at your clit painfully slowly, tapping, pinching it when you stutter or pause.

"Didn't say stop did I Princess?" He whispers in your ear as he squeezes it hard again. You squirm and whine in his lap, hands gripping the book as you try to focus, the embarrassment boiling in your face. Only when you start reading again his fingers start circling slowly.

After a few more excerpts Bucky is starting to get restless. He is enjoying the little whines and pants coming from you, but hearing about someone being fucked is nowhere near as fun as fucking you.

📚

He carries you into the bedroom because your legs are too wobbly to walk. He vaguely remembers something about clothes being ripped off, so he takes the silky fabric of your skirt in his hands and rips it in half making you gasp.

He growls with approval when he sees your damp underwear and sticky thighs. "Such a filthy little slut aren't you?" You whimper and pull off your top to speed up the process.

"Daddy please.... Can't wait anymore" you pout, tears filling your eyes with desperation. He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss before gripping your throat and whispering, "You're gonna wait till I say sweetheart. I should be punishing you really for that trashy book shouldn't I? Am I not enough babygirl?"

"Daddy!!" You gasp and scramble upwards. You babble like crazy, telling him that he's all you want, better than any book, better than anyone. As you do you pull off his clothes, mostly his trousers and pants and kiss at his thighs up towards his heavy, leaking cock.

"Nothing better than you daddy" you mumble as you rub your lips over him. He runs a hand through your hair and smirks, "Prove it baby, show me what you really want..."

You wrap your lips around him and suck, taking him deeper and deeper on each bob up and down. Your fingers massage at his heavy sack and your eyes water as he gags you. "Fuck princess... More of a slut that that girl in the book hmmm? They couldn't write a slut like you could they baby?" You preen under his praise, releasing him with a pop before licking up and down. He groans as you resume your sucking, taking him all the way down and holding him there. He leans back and fucks his hips upwards, making you choke and grip his thighs.

"Get up Princess, show me that pretty pussy." You giggle as you crawl up his body. He goes to hold your hips but you keep crawling until your aching heat is hovering over his face. He chuckles as you giggle, gripping the headboard and sinking down to his mouth.

His hands spank and squeeze your ass cheeks and he pulls your heat down closer to his lips, sucking and licking until your legs shake. "Daddy...fuck...please?" He hums, as if debating what to do next, and it sends a shockwave through your body and you lose your grip on the headboard, squealing as you almost topple off him.

Before you know what's happening he's planted you on the bed, hovering over you, a giggle escaping your lips as he manhandles you, lining himself up and catches your lips in a kiss. He tastes salty sweet like you do and you moan in his mouth and he sinks in.

"Tell me babygirl... You gonna keep that book?"

"No daddy" you pant, watching as his cock slides slowly in and stretches you out oh so nicely. He pushes your legs upwards and produces said literature. He increases his pace and starts spanking you with the book, only gently but enough to make your walls flutter.

"I find another book like this I'll make sure you don't sit properly for a week, and I won't fuck you like this for two....."

You pout and shake your head, "promise daddy, I promise, no more naughty books..."

He grins and leans over kisses you again before fucking you properly, pinning your arms down and peppering kisses and bites over your neck, chest and cheeks. "My good girl" he growls as your peak comes ever closer.

"So close" you whisper as your arms wrap around his neck and dragging him closer to you, your lips dragging over his skin. "Come on baby girl, come for daddy now" he growls as his finger snakes down and rubs at your sensitive clit and his thrusts come faster and faster.

You cry out and dig your nails into his back as your orgasm peaks, walls fluttering almost painfully as you feel his hot come coat your walls. He fucks you through it until his release leaks out of your heat.

"Daddy.... So sensitive....please..so good" you whine and he chuckles, stilling for a moment and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Take a breath baby, gotta lot more in store than that...."

#💌#darling nonnie #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #daddy!bucky #princess!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut

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inoreuct · 7 months

Note

What if, in some circumstances which I cannot even think of, Sanji cannot cook himself and has to tell Zoro what to do.

And Zoro's sword skills are NOT equal to his knife skills 😭

Sanji also would use fancy chef vocabulary to give commands like "now sauté those onions until they're godlen-brown" or something and Zoro's like da fuck's a co-lander. why would you need like 5 different pans.

BADABING BADABOOM HERE YOU GO REG MY DEAR technically pre-rs but they act like they’ve been married decades. ANYWAYS enjoy 🤭🤭

Zoro swore as the knife slipped again, skidding flat against the chopping board with a dull scrape that made him wince.

In hindsight, this was all the stupid cook’s fault. Bastard just had to go and break his arm; Sanji had tried to do things one-handed for a while before he’d evidently gotten fed up and stuck his head out the galley door to scream for Zoro to help with lunch at top volume, apparently under the assumption that since Zoro was a master swordsman he’d be able to handle knives.

And by all rights, he should. He was the demon pirate hunter. He carried his best friend’s dream like a talisman in his pocket. He wasn’t going to let himself be bested by a fucking vegetables and a knife.

But Zoro was quite certain that barring his sense of direction, he had never been quite this bad at anything in his entire existence.

The garlic had been miniscule, the celery had been too fucking slippery, the onions had made his eyes burn, and now this stupid carrot kept trying to run away from him. He could handle rough chops, sure; but when Sanji was being all picky about—

“I said medium dice, marimo, not mutilate.”

“I don’t know what that fucking means, shithead,” Zoro gritted, not even bothering to turn around where Sanji was sitting at the dining table. He re-aligned the knife and felt inexplicably betrayed when it slipped again, slicing diagonally into the carrot. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken off a finger yet.

He felt stupid. Awkward and useless and out of his element, it was just cooking, for fuck’s sake—

“Marimo.”

“What,” he snapped, fingers tightening around a wooden handle. Sanji’s tone had gone soft around the edges and it rankled him, made him feel irrationally angry like a tiger pacing around in its cage, trapped and seething—

“This one’s on me,” Sanji murmured, coming around to hover by his side, something Zoro couldn’t identify in the set of his face. “Shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be good with knives just because you’re good with swords.”

The words sent a wave of panic through Zoro, stomach dropping fast enough that he ran his mouth. A need to please he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Desperation not to disappoint. “Shut the fuck up, I am, I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his teeth together hard. “Just… Give me a minute to figure it out.”

“You’re already doing better than I was, when I started,” Sanji said lightly, hair falling across his face as he tipped his head.

“You were a child,” he ground out. The knife clattered as he put it down to shake out his hands. “S’not saying much.”

The cook hummed, strangely gentle. “Still. It’s alright—”

“I don’t want your pity.”

And, oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Pity. Zoro felt like a dumb kid again, and it was so much worse because it was Sanji. And he didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so he sneered, “Don’t look down on me, shitty cook. You and your fancy-ass cooking terms and your hundred and one pans and—”

Sanji cut him off with a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back. His left arm was immobilised in a sling, tucked close to his body as he moved behind Zoro and reached around him to pick the knife up again. “Your brains must really be full of moss if you think I’m looking down on you. Come on.” He offered Zoro the handle, and the swordsman didn’t need to look to know that Sanji was smiling over his shoulder. “One last try.”

He worked his jaw for a second, and huffed through his nose. “I fucking swear, curly, if I get cut—”

“You won’t,” Sanji replied, resolute as he watched Zoro take the knife.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re not stupid and I’m not careless, especially not with you.”

The last part had been a little quieter, riding on a rushed breath, and Zoro eyed the cook pensively as slender fingers wrapped around his hand.

“Here. Like this.”

With Sanji’s help, he cut the carrot into lengthwise sticks and then neat cubes, chopping up a few more before dumping the whole lot into a bowl with most of what he’d already cut. Sanji shifted away, poking a chopstick into the oil he’d left to heat.

“See the bubbles?” he murmured, peering down into the pot. “That’s how you check if it’s hot enough.” He twisted one of the knobs down before grabbing the vegetables and dumping them in, shifting the pieces around with a wooden spatula as they sizzled gently. “This is a mirepoix,” he said, pronouncing it meer-pwah. “It forms the flavour base of a lot of dishes. The aim is to use low heat, cook it down really slow— so that it doesn’t burn and you bring out the sweetness.”

He was speaking softly enough that it could have been to himself, but the commentary was obviously for Zoro’s benefit, and Zoro. Did not like how that was making him feel at all.

They were quiet for a while as Sanji did his thing, and the swordsman crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. The sun filtering in through the window was lighting Sanji’s hair up gold, washing his features in a subtle glow that emphasised the softness of his expression, relaxed and so entirely in his element that it made Zoro’s chest ache. Made something press up beneath his lungs, made it hard to breathe, and it ached.

Impervious to his inner turmoil, Sanji continued, stirring frequently as the galley started to smell really good. “When the onion turns translucent, that’s the sweet spot—” The chopped (more mushed, if Zoro was inclined to be honest) garlic from earlier went in with a vicious sizzle, then a few dashes of different sauces and a good pour of chicken stock. “Could you get the black pepper?”

Zoro grunted, grabbing the grinder from the corner and putting a few good cracks into the pot as Sanji added salt, stirred one last time, and propped the lid on partway. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Sanji confirmed, smirking, but not unkindly. “Once that simmers down it’ll be our soup, and I’ll just have to cook some noodles. I was planning for mussels in a garlic butter white wine reduction and seared scallops with this delicious spiced pomegranate and herb glaze, but— I think that might have killed you.” Something must have shown on Zoro’s face, because the cook laughed, bright and easy. “You did good, marimo, all things considered. I’d probably be horrid at sword fighting. We’re even.”

Zoro scowled, fighting back against the spark that flared in the depths of his chest at that thought. Sparring with Sanji, in his element, giving the cook shit for it but also helping. Teaching. “Hurry up and get better, and we’ll see.”

Sanji groaned, rolling his eyes even as he chuckled. “You’re gonna kick my ass, aren’t you.”

Maybe. But even more than that… He thought about how Sanji had held his hand over the knife, patient but not condescending even though he could have been, the skin of his wrist cool against Zoro’s forearm. The look on his he face as he did what he loved and the way it had made something warm bloom behind Zoro’s sternum. The swordsman let his teeth peek in a lazy grin as his chin tipped up; an entire challenge. Half of the bite. “We’ll see.”

fin.

#zosan #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #op zosan #zoro x sanji #mirepoix was one of the first things i learned to cook this was so nostalgic #also zoro’s less repressed than i expected wowwwwwww #ronoroa zoro #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #ask box #ino’s ask box

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fuckmyskywalker · 9 months

Note

aaa!! love your stuff so so soo much. i wanna see Luke inherit his father’s skill for manipulation. obviously, with Luke, it’s from a totally kind-hearted place because he couldn’t bare to hurt you, but sometimes he needs to twist your mind a lil to get what he wants <4

CW: 18+, smut! Luke being manipulative yes, my babygirl. Oral sex (m).

a/n: HE TOTALLY DOES! This is for you my stargirl.

Seeing Luke cry was like an arrow straight to the heart.

“Don’t you love me?” He whispered, burying his face in his hands. His body was trembling, as if he was seconds away from breaking down, which was scary. Seeing every wall crumbling down just because of you, was terrible.

His face made you feel as if you were the villain of the story. The evil mistress who broke the young Skywalker’s heart. “Of course I love you.” You mumbled, staring at your own feet. His quiet sobs were painful. Taking shaky steps you stopped next to him, hesitantly sitting next to him on the couch. Touching him was like signing a death sentence.

And Luke Skywalker was the executioner.

“If you loved me, you wouldn't leave me” He raised his head just the slightest bit so he could peer at you from between his fingers. Those piercing blue eyes were enough to make your knees buckle— and thank the Maker you were seated, or else the floor would gladly receive you.

His hand reached for yours and you didn’t dare to let go. It was like a vicious cycle. Breaking up because his love was like a tight rope around your neck, smothering you and choking you, until Luke came back crawling and asking for forgiveness for pushing you away with his possessiveness and sudden bursts of emotions. You had no idea where it came from, and you always wondered if it had to do with the lack of attention he had from a formal parental figure or his gloomy upbringing.

“I'm trying to make things right Luke—” Your voice was soft, you hated confrontation and Luke knew it. It wouldn't be hard to convince you. “This… isn't fair for either of us”

Standing up and walking to your room was the wisest choice— but when it came to looking, all you could do to help yourself was allow him back into your life. It doesn't matter how many times you have done it, the situation repeats over and over until it feels more like a weekly thing, than something that should be avoided. Luke was aware of the fact. Anything of these was fair to you because he was doing it on purpose; from his perspective, he was just protecting what belonged to him. He never had much growing up in the hostile world of Tatooine… now— he has anything he wants, and he wants you.

His calloused hands, a product of hours of training to protect the galaxy— to protect you, squeezed your palm and enveloped your fingers tightly.

“Look… my love” His voice no longer sounded desperate, his face began to fall slowly. Almost acquiring a menacing frame. Though he tried to make his voice as gentle as he could; there was an unspoken venom that was hard to conceal behind such a thin façade. “You can’t leave me. We need to stay together. I… I love you. I simply cannot imagine my life without you, so— please stop all this nonsense of wanting to leave me”

There it was. The same old trick. Every. Single. Time. You fell into his trap. And today wasn't the exception.

Exasperation began to build up inside your chest. Deep down you knew this was wrong— but wait a minute, Luke made you feel so loved, he gave you everything you asked for, and he showered you with gifts or dates, or whatever kriff you wanted that day. So, was it a bad thing to forgive him? You weren't an idiot, despite Luke's attempts to brainwash you. This relationship wasn't healthy, it was far from stable,— was it starting to get old?

“Just listen to me, just once” You breathed, running a hand through your hair. “I can't keep doing this. I'm tired of always fighting and making up and feeling like I am the problem and—”

“Why should I listen to you when you clearly don't understand anything whatsoever?” Luke let go of your hands, cupping your cheeks and dragging your face closer to his. The same blue irises that you learned to love, were staring deep inside your soul, testing you, reading you. “It’s okay if you don't get it. I understand it can be difficult sometimes— You are not meant to do the things you enjoy, not while you are with me, I mean— You already have me, what else would you possibly need?” He wasn’t crying anymore, his eyes were puffy, and his cheeks were flushed.

Luke never had a problem with crying, especially when he wanted to; He begs, whines, and pleas… Completely fulfilling his desired act. To make you feel so remorseful you will bend under his will.

His smile didn't have any right to be so sweet, so bright. Luke Skywalker didn't have any right to be a ray of sun.

“Now you are mine” Luke’s voice was above a whisper. Whatever he was doing it was undoubtedly working. “You don't need to do anything else, my starlight. We can be together. Forever.” Such promise was supposed to be soothing until it wasn't.

His lips brushed over yours, having you right where he wanted.

“I'm just… protective” Your ex–or your boyfriend– or whoever he was now— continued. Pressing gentle kisses until your mind began to get foggy. Luke’s lips were like a drug. He never gave you enough to satiate that ich that the taste of his sweet mouth created in your body. “You couldn't understand because you'd never had someone love you as much as I do. Don't you see?”

Granting him with a soft nod, your eyes fluttered with what appeared to be desire. Luke could read you like an open book. His kisses began to be more slow, steady, and more intimate. He was testing the waters. He needed to prep you first.

“Don’t you see?” He asked again, running his hands up and down your hips, shifting in his seat. “I ask you to do all those things for your good. You are too blinded by your kindness that you fail to see that people out there are cruel. They are just trying to take advantage of you”

What if he was right? Luke had no… he had no reasons to lie to you, right? His weight on top of your body was comforting. This was something familiar, his closeness was soothing. Luke was there—your Luke.

Yes! He was right! People were cruel, mean. Your friends were making fun of you behind your back, just like Luke said. Your friends were a bad influence, just like Luke said. You were just too blind to see it because you often only choose to see the good side of people, unlike Luke. He knows when something is wrong. He always knows. And, as your boyfriend he is allowed to take care of you.

Luke’s kisses became more desperate, eager. His tongue explored your mouth and his fingers gripped your skin as if you were about to leave. “I’m just doing what’s best for you, princess” He moaned against your lips, as his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed with his strong hands. “Soon you’ll see how much I worry about you, once you see that, you’d understand the truth. Because in all reality… you’re just being silly. Aren’t you?” His hands slid inside your blouse, snapping your bra open and wasting no time playing with your nipples, rolling them and pinching them. “Aren’t you silly, my beautiful darling?” Luke hurried you, moaning quietly when he heard you whine his name and arch your back.

Yes, Luke was obsessed. And he was proud of it.

He guided you kindly, forcing you into a state of mind where all you could think of was him. The power his words held was surreal. Your brain was mush, just like Luke wanted it to be. Helping you untie his belt, he watched with amazement how your mouth lowered on him. He loved to see you like this, after he cried you always felt guilty and did anything he asked for in order to cope and ease with your remorse. Luke hates seeing you cry, and he firmly believes what he is doing is for you; He is truly worried. You are the only good thing he has in his life, so of course he is going to do anything in his power to keep you by his side.

He moaned your name as your tongue licked the sensitive head of his cock, tasting him and rolling your eyes at the taste. Luke’s breath hitched, buckling his hips and whining when you began to take him inside your mouth. His length felt thick and heavy inside your mouth, giving him head was one of your favorite things to do.

“This is what you want, right?” Luke whispered, brushing hair away from your face and keeping a hand over your head to control your movements. It didn’t take you long to grow at a steady pace, and for Luke to become a teary-eyed, moaning mess. “You want m—me…”

You wanted to answer but his dick in your throat was preventing you from; A simple whimper came from your mouth and Luke groaned at the sound buckling his hips faster, basically fucking your face. You gasped for air when he yanked your hair and rubbed his wet cock against your cheek, smearing your spit and his precum, your chest heaving with difficulty. Luke took his time to slap the swollen tip of his cock over your lips, your cheek, enjoying how your eyes seemed to go hazy with pleasure at the feeling.

“Say it” His voice is soft, massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “Say you are mine. Say that you will never leave.”

The words choked in your throat, he was again asking you to tie yourself to him and you weren’t sure if you truly wanted that.

But you did it anyway.

“I belong to you; I will never leave you. I love you.”

The smile of relief that danced across his lips swelled your heart. Luke was happy.

So you were happy too.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader smut #luke skywalker blurb #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker x y/n

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sparrowrye · 22 days

Text

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 26

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 26: So it begins

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was trapped in a chair. Something was clamped around my head and kept it firmly tied to the back of the chair. My arms and legs were completely immobile, not a centimeter of space left. I could feel Alastor's panic. I let out a scream as I pulled hard against the chair, completely helpless.

Burning pain ran along the sides of my head. I screamed louder, harder, and fought tooth and nail for my magic just barely out of reach.

Next thing I know I'm running through the forest. I was in my Dragon form, my large claws clearly in view as I jumped across streams and weaved through the trees. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

I came to a clearing and stopped. Standing across was a man in all white. He spread his huge bird-like wings and pointed a finger at me. A moment later I was on my side, shaking from pain, as he stood over me with clenched fists.

He lifted one fist and brought it down on my face.

My head jerked back and I gasped. Alastor flinched awake, eyes snapping open and scanning the room for danger. My own eyes remained locked on him as wide as they could go. I couldn't take a deep breath.

"Another nightmare my dear?" he asked sweetly, hand coming up to cup my face. I couldn't move. He noticed and pushed his mind further into mine than usual. He lowered my heart rate and loosened my shoulders. He moved down my body until the tip of my tail was no longer tense.

"A vision," I breathed. "Something was wrong. I was trapped and something was happening to you."

"I won't let anything happen to either of us, my darling." That was what he always said after my nightmares.

"But what if something does happen?" I pressed.

"Darling," his tone was firm, "we don't know when these events will occur or if they can even be considered visions. You have yet to discern between a vision and dream. This could be your fear creating nightmares."

I let out a short, terse sigh and sat up. I couldn't see but I knew he was rolling his eyes and sitting up as I slipped out of bed.

"Darling--"

"I don't appreciate you discounting me like that. Six surface Overlords are gone, Blackwater is creating an empire through word of mouth, and we barely survived getting away from him last time. How are you not concerned?" I faced him with my arms extended in exaggeration.

"Last time he lured us into a trap." He stood up and ran a hand through his messy hair. If I wasn't so upset I might've considered it attractive. "He is nothing against me in a full scale battle. He cannot harm you or this Haven while I am here." He crossed the room to place a gentle hand on my cheek. My tail came around to wrap on his ankle. "Let me worry about this, darling."

I was quiet. There were a lot of things I wanted to say to him. I wasn't some useless weak mage, not anymore. My magic was getting better with every day and I was doing a lot in the Haven to get it more fortified and help with morale. And why wasn't he showing even just the slightest bit of concern? He could've died last time we ran into Blackwater. He was building an army as we spoke. Alastor was good but even he could be overrun if there were enough of them, especially if they had Overlord magic.

Alastor brought his other hand up to hold my face in both hands. He tried to catch my eyes but I forced my head down. He moved his hands to my shoulders and gently squeezed them, trying in every way to get me to look at him without forcing it. I kept our minds separate but allowed him to press along my shields like he usually did.

He succumbed to hugging me instead. I pressed my cheek into his chest while his arms folded over my shoulders and behind my head. I took a long, slow deep breath of his cedar wood scent. I had the urge to cry. I knew it wasn't from just this one nightmare. I've been having them steadily now and each time he told me they were nightmares, nothing more. He could help sooth the nightmares but that didn't prevent the effect it had on me during the day. It was getting overwhelming.

I rubbed my face on his soft black long sleeve. He brought a hand up to my head and ran his claws lightly along my scalp. I let out a hum of satisfaction, the muscles in my arms loosening around his waist. He pushed further on my shields and I finally let him in, melting our minds together. I felt warmth seeping through my body and relaxing all the tight muscles. I was surprised to see how much of an effect my physique had on my mentality.

How did he always manage to relax me like this?

"I will take extra precautions, my love," he finally said, chest vibrating as he spoke. My arms wrapped tighter around him and I smiled.

"Thank you."

"Can I have a kiss now?"

I tilted my head back to look at him, finally meeting his gaze. "Is that all you were looking for?"

One of his ears fell to the side. "It wasn't an attempt to manipulate you."

I laughed, bringing my hands up to his face and pulling him down for a brief kiss. "I know, Al. Thank you for listening." My ears picked up on a certain sound. My tail moved up his leg and the sound grew faster. I noticed his smile wobble a little but before I could make a comment he kissed me again. My tail continued up until it found his own tail. It had been wagging. I laughed into the kiss and tried to pull away but he refused, hands holding my face firmly against his so I couldn't say anything.

I tried moving my body to pull away and one of his hands came down to wrap behind my back. He pulled me flush against his body as his other hand moved to the back of my head, lips parting mine and long tongue slipping through. I made a surprised noise and gripped his shirt in my fists. He hummed into the kiss, making me moan.

I pulled away finally, shocked at my own actions, and quickly looked at anything other than him. His chuckle was deep in his chest. He planted a kiss on my cheek then on the side of my forehead.

****

"What do you mean he's missing?" I asked Althea, struggling to find a way to put our healer at ease. Vivian and Vilcin were also trying to talk to her but she was pacing like we'd never seen her do before. Vilcin was visibly upset at their friend's behavior, concerned owl noises bubbling in their throat. Vivian was the better of us three, trying to make conversation and pull out information from anything and everything.

"He's gone. My brother he's...he's just gone. No note, no word, no nothing." She grabbed random things off her shelves and pretended to busy herself. "The guards haven't seen him all day, either. Where could he have gone? He doesn't just disappear."

Althea had been reunited with her brother only recently. Husker had lead a group to save more fighters from the rings and it took mere seconds for Althea to find her brother as she surveyed them all for injuries. He joined the guards as most of the fighters did and any time he wasn't on duty he was in his sister's hut. To be honest, I was often jealous of their close relationship. Even after years of being separated, they came back like no time had passed.

A funny feeling settled in my chest and not a good one. Part of me worried if it was a trap of some kind but it wasn't as if I couldn't not help my friend. I was always the one who went out and searched for angry runaways with worried friends and families.

Althea was so upset. She wasn't thinking in her usual calm way. I had to do something to help her, even if that meant pushing past my own nerves. She was my friend, after all. One of my first friends in the haven.

I reached with my magic to see if Alastor was up at the house. I wanted to let him know that I was going out but he wasn't anywhere on the premise. That made me even more worried, however, that did mean I didn't have to argue with him over leaving the grounds. He would probably argue against it.

"Let me try finding him. I'm good with things like this," I said. Althea finally stopped moving. She turned to look at me as did the others. I waited a moment longer before turning and leaving the healer's hut. They all knew, especially Althea herself, about my worries of Blackwater. I had confided in them about my nightmares since Alastor wasn't the greatest when it came to the aftermath of those.

"Wait!" Althea called, "Let me go with you."

"Huh? Why?" I came to a stop as she ran up.

"At least you'll have someone with you out there. And I want to make sure he's okay when you do find him."

"I'm not sure, Althea," I admitted, "It's easier for me to move by myself as a Dragon. And we need to make sure our one and only healer is safe."

"You also need to be safe," she argued, "If anything happens to you, happens to Alastor, we're nothing against Blackwater."

"You have Charlie. She's pretty powerful. Plus her father is the King of Hell. He'll come to her aid."

"I'm not sure from the things she's told me." She glanced around to ensure no one was listening.

"Maybe we're reading too much into this," I tried, "your brother might have just gotten separated and lost. I'll be careful. I'm also powerful, you know." I turned away and started for the border before she could say anything else. The guards at the edge watched me but said nothing as I passed and morphed into my dragon form, quickly slipping into the forest.

I moved along the tree line until I caught wind of his scent. It was faint, obviously from the night before, and followed it further into the forest. I could smell others which told me he had been with a group. I felt my adrenaline surging through my veins. I missed moving through the forest like this, thinking of the scent and only that, and my claws kicking up dirt behind me. Even the wind slipping under my wings felt great. I felt free.

His scent grew stronger around certain areas. He must've stopped with the group a few times. Then at one point his scent diverted from the group. My nerves went up and reached out with my magic. Everything was on high alert now.

It took only a few strides before I realized something was up. I felt a presence nearby. It wasn't Alastor's and it wasn't Blackwater's. It didn't even feel normal; didn't feel natural. This had to be Blackwater's work. This was a trap. But I couldn't turn back. Not now. I had to save Althea's brother. I couldn't wait for Alastor either. Blackwater might be trying to extract magic from her brother this very moment.

I came to a clearing and dug my heels into the dirt. Standing on the other end was a man in white. He noticed my presence almost immediately, spinning around and extending huge golden wings.

My vision. It's happening!

His face was all black with sharp yellow eyes and teeth. He had black claws and horns. What kind of Demon was this?

"Well well well, nice to finally meet the bastard he spawned," the man said.

"Who are you?" I demanded as I shifted into my Demon form.

"The name's Adam. Like Adam the first man."

"First man?"

"Ch-yeah. I'm the Adam. From the Bible." He planted his fists on his wide hips.

"The Bible?" I deadpanned.

His toothy smile disappeared. "Do you seriously not know what the Bible is?"

I shook my head. "No. I've never heard of it."

"How? It's literally the most popular and controversial book in the whole fucking world."

"So what are you?" I asked.

"I can't fucking believe this." He crossed his arms. "I'm a fucking angel."

He talks weird.

"You look like a Demon, though." I knew Angels existed, being half of one myself, but I had never actually seen one. I thought they might not have a way to cross onto the surface like Demons did.

"Angels don't have a demonic look so I took that into my own hands. But here, let me demonstrate so you actually believe me." He pointed a single finger and a gold beam shot out. I barely moved off the line of trajectory and was thrown backwards into a tree. Stabbing pain throbbed in my shoulder, the smell of burning flesh reaching my nose almost immediately.

I looked down at my shoulder to see a large, steaming hole straight through it. The burning spread from the wound and went down my arm and seeped into my chest. Panicked, I immediately healed the wound and stopped whatever it was from reaching my heart.

My eyes looked up at him through my hair.

Game time.

There was no going back.

I moved to all fours as he spread his wings out. I waited, wanting him to make the first move. And he did. He flew at me at insane speed, barely giving me enough time to roll out of the way. His wings weren't obeying the laws of gravity.

I went into the woods and kept him at a distance with the dense trees. Where was Althea's brother? Where was he keeping him?

I came around a tree and uprooted it as he flew by. He slammed into the roots and crashed into the next one. I jumped on him and pinned his wrists to the ground, claws covering his to prevent him from using his death ray. I used my wings to pin his to the ground as well with surprising ease. I felt bigger. I felt deadly. I felt powerful. What other magic could this Angel do? Surely I was superior because I had both types of magic.

"What a position you've put me in," Adam smirked, "does your soulmate know you do this to other men?"

"Where is the boy?" I demanded, ignoring his remark.

"Like I would fucking tell you." His laugh was cut short when I sank my teeth into his shoulder. The taste was sweet on my tongue but my adrenaline was overpowering the urge. It actually made me uncomfortable to taste anyone else's blood other than Alastor's. "You little bitch!" he yelled as I lifted my head. "Is that how we're playing?"

He twisted my wrist funny and his yellow beam shot through my hand and hit my nose. I fell back and rolled away, clutching my face. He kept shooting at me as I fled among the trees. I uprooted the ground beneath him just to get him to stop.

I casted wind through the trees and sent him tumbling head over heels. I covered my bleeding face and healed the injury on my nose. My shoulder still ached from the first time he hit me. Maybe he didn't have the magic I had as a Demon but that beam of his was incredibly deadly. He could kill me if it hit my head.

I shuddered as Alastor looked through my eyes. I suddenly lost sight of Adam and panicked. I picked a direction and ran, weaving in and out of the trees. Where had he gone? I had blinked and he was gone. That wasn't possible, surely.

Something hard hit my face. It snapped my head to the side and I fell hard on my injured shoulder. I rolled once and slammed my face into a tree. I attempted the 'force field' Alastor had been teaching me. It was short high wings really close to my body to keep anything from reaching me. Though it probably couldn't do anything against his death ray.

A hand gripped my hair and slammed my face into the ground. Adam stepped on my wings and brute forced me onto my back, effectively popping my wing out of its socket. I cried out as he straddled me and closed his hand around my throat.

I felt Alastor reaching for me through our bond but something else, something bright, stopped him. I felt my soul being torn from my body. The pain wasn't physical but no words could describe such a horrible feeling. My mouth opened in a silent scream as it felt like stitches were being popped out the further my soul came from my body.

I shot my magic through my own soul and into Adam's. I pictured grabbed his throat with my own black claws. He suddenly let go and my soul snapped back into my body. My connection with Alastor wobbled.

"I'm done playing these games," he growled, standing up but not removing his feet from either side of my injured form. I was shaking uncontrollably. "You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough."

He finally stepped off my wings and I rolled onto my side. He knelt beside me and grabbed my shoulders. A moment later everything felt as light as a feather.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

What's gonna happen? Who knows? All I know is that this is the 51st PART! That's so many! And you've been with me since the beginning <3

Next part will come Wednesday morning at the latest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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wintaerbaer · 3 months

Text

icebreaker (jhs)

summary: When you get stuck in a walk-in freezer with your work nemesis, he has a rather...unconventional idea to ensure the two of you get through it without being frostbitten.

pairing: Hoseok x Reader

rating: generally sfw (mentions of ass and boobs though)

genre: enemies to ??

word count: 1.3k

prompt: Hobi + "Would you for once stop being a bitch!" + close quarters trope (for @animeniacss! <3)

MASTERLIST

The metal of the door is painfully cold against your fingers where you scramble at it, desperately trying to force it open.

It should be unsurprising–given that you’re literally in a walk-in freezer–but the panic setting in at the prospect of being trapped in here (and with him no less) is absolutely scrambling your brain.

No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.

“It’s stuck?” Even the mere sound of his voice makes your blood boil on cue. If he keeps it up, you could probably survive in here indefinitely.

“Nooooo.” You draw it out as sarcastically as you can, pairing it with a dramatic eye roll for maximum snark. “I’m keeping us here for fun. Because there is nothing I would rather do than be locked in a freezer with your stupid ass.”

Hoseok levels an annoyed look your way but doesn’t respond, sidling up to try the door himself. It doesn’t budge even a hair, and he pulls back with a shake of his hands, trying to circulate heat back into them. “Shit.”

This being a shit situation might be the first thing you’ve ever agreed on. Ever since you both started working at the restaurant a year ago, you as a waitress and he as a bartender, you’ve been at odds–trading verbal jabs, dirty looks, and loathing the times when, like now, you either open or close together.

Honestly, you don’t even remember what started it at this point.

Your breath comes out in a thick cloud, fogging the space between you. “When is Namjoon coming in?”

“I don’t know.” He rubs at his arms; the thin, black cotton of his button down is likely doing close to nothing as far as warmth goes. “Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“How long does it take for frostbite to set in?”

“Why the fuck would I know that?!”

The annoyed expression he aims at you is downright lethal, and you find yourself jumping on the defensive. “That big, dumb brain of yours has to be good for something, right?”

His eyelids drop, disappointment painting his face more than anything. “Wow. Good one.” But somewhere in his posture, you think you might see…

Hurt?

No. No chance.

He whips out his phone, holding it up towards the ceiling as he peers at the screen. “I don’t have any service, do you?”

A tiny “x” sits in the corner of your phone where there should be bars. “Nothing.”

The vapor of his own breath billows between you as he turns, inspecting the confines of the freezer. “Do you think there’s a hole or something you could squeeze through?”

“What?! Why me?!”

“Because it’s your fault we’re in here!” he exclaims, raising the pitch of his voice in a poor, hyperbolic imitation of yours. “Waaahhhh, Hoseok, I can’t reach the bins on the top shelves because I’m short!”

“I am not squeezing through a hole,” you sneer. “You’re just looking to get a nice view of my ass.”

He laughs, but the tips of his ears go pink, too quickly to be from the cold. “You wish.”

With no other options for escape, you try the door again, bracing your shoulder against it and leveraging all of your weight. Hoseok quickly joins in, pressing both of his hands at the space next to you, biceps bulging.

The two of you fall back with a huff when the door continues to refuse any kind of movement. You shiver, curling your arms around yourself as he frowns.

“What do we do now?” you ask.

He sighs. Runs a hand through his dark hair. “I guess we have to wait it out.”

“We’re going to fucking freeze.”

“I…” He falters, gazing at you with nervous eyes. “I saw this thing one time. Tips on staying warm in subzero temperatures…”

His eyes fall to the floor, and you snap your fingers at his hesitation. “And?”

He gulps, shifting on his feet. “Skin-to-skin contact.”

“No!” you shout. “No, no, no, no. Now you’re just trying to get my clothes off.”

A toss of his hands as he groans in exasperation. “Would you for once stop being a bitch?!”

You feel yourself flush at his use of the word, hot rage climbing up the threads of your veins. If you had a dime for every time you’ve taken a verbal shot at each other, you’d actually be able to afford to see your favorite band in concert. But never, until now, has he dared to call you a bitch.

“Look, I know it must be hard having to go through every minute of your life with an entire tree up your ass,” you snap, “but that doesn’t give you the right to call me a bitch, asshole.”

He flinches, the movement rippling its way through his body like he’s resetting–teeth clenching and joints stiffening before he sheepishly rests his hand on the back of his neck.

“Look, I’m…sorry. Okay? You’re right. That was out of line.”

Suddenly, you’re not frozen because of the literal freezer you’re standing in, but because you never thought you’d hear those words leave his mouth.

He’s sorry?

“I know we got off on the wrong foot and that you hate me, but I am truly just trying to look out for both of us here.” He nods his chin at you, a hint of cavalier mirth slipping back into his expression. “That being said, I need you to take off your shirt.”

You’re still incredibly suspicious, but his apology has taken you off-guard. Could it be that you’ve partially misjudged him this whole time?

Could there really be a scrap of a heart somewhere underneath all that ego and contempt?

You suck your teeth, accepting the inevitable as the chill begins to work itself deeper into your bones.

“You first.”

Hoseok chews on his lip, looking unsure of his plan now himself. But then he’s reaching for his collar, winding his fingers in a downward line to undo each button of his shirt until his torso is bared to you, goosebumps erupting over his skin.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he gasps. “Okay, now you.”

You grit your teeth against the chill and the fact that you’re really doing this, raising your hands to undo the top button, then the second and the third and then–

A woosh and a cough.

You whirl around to find Namjoon standing in the doorway, looking utterly disgusted.

“In the freezer? Really?” He clicks his tongue at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, we keep food in here.”

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as both you and Hoseok hurriedly button your shirts back up. “It’s not what it looks like! We were–”

“I know what you were doing,” he scoffs. “Do us all a favor and save it for outside work hours, okay? Now get back out here. I need help checking our liquor stock.”

And then he spins on his heel and leaves.

You rush to catch the door before it closes, Hoseok only a step behind. The warmth of the restaurant envelops you like the toastiest blanket, and the two of you stand there for a moment rubbing the heat back into your skin. It’s such a relief that you don’t even feel entirely horrified over Namjoon thinking that you and Hoseok are sleeping together.

And speaking of Hoseok–

“Well,” he says with a clearing of his throat.

“Well.”

“That was fun.”

“Not in the slightest,” you reply. “Though I can’t believe I got you to say sorry.”

He winks. “That was just to get your shirt off.” You stand there, frozen, as he strides off down the hallway, spinning back towards you at the last second.

“Nice boobs by the way.”

a/n: as always, please consider liking, reblogging, replying, and/or dropping an ask if you enjoyed! :)

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok imagines

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Yo! I cannot get enough of dad!dream! Can you write something with reader and Morpheus bonding by her taking him around and showing him what she did while he was trapped and Morpheus lamenting about being gone for so long and missing his child’s (because he absolutely accepts that that is his kid. No ands ifs or buts) milestones.oh! Maybe a scene where he shows her around the dreaming while he’s repairing it and she gets to see what it looks like it it’s full glory!

Star Collector

Dream of the Endless x Fae!Reader (tho tis mostly Dream & his fae!baby girl)

Summary: Your daughter grew up loving flowers. One day, a strange man comes to her whist she was playing in the garden, and she immediately offers him some buds from her collection.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, fae!mother & daughter, girl dad!dream, CUPCAKE BABY GIRL!daughter, fluff, angst?, typos, etc.

A/N: lol u sent this before i even got back to you. update: IM FINALY GETTING BACK TO YOU. I THINK IM IN A DAD!DREAM STREAK. I had a little problem with continuity and feasibility of the kid, well, being a child after dream was trapped for a nearly a century, so i made them fae! hope you dont mind. anyway, i hope you like it, and i hope it was worth the wait my love love love Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

The sky was a lilac and orange color today. The sun was lowly kissing the mountain ranges from across our domain. The dusk left a pinkish haze in its wake. The fireflies were at the start of their debut.

The balmy breeze embraced my daughter as sweetly as I would as she gathered all the flowers in our front lawn to her heart's content.

And I had been in the middle of a chore when I felt a ripple of dread rush through me. The spoon in one hand and the jar of honey in the other quickly left my grips as I ripped my chiffon skirt up and dashed over to the open door by my kitchen. I had a complete view of my baby mere moments ago. Now, she was not at all eye shot.

So as I ran outside, my heart raced; my bare feet galloped across the grass and dirt of the garden.

Then all at once, the air was stolen from my lungs and my movements come to an abrupt halt. He stood there, a tall, dark figure, starkly contrasting the fauna and the tiny, bright baby next to him.

Her voice was small and soft, and her hair tie was loose around her hair. She raises a flower bud and grins from ear to ear.

He bends down and takes the flower bud from her, muttering a gracious thank you.

When he turns to me, a shiver runs down my spine.

I am in utter disbelief. I only realize it was indeed real after he walks over to me and says my name.

I gasp for air, "Dream?"

The next moment, I am in his arms, embracing him tightly.

"You came back to us," I speak against his chest, eyes water.

He presses a kiss on the side on the top of my head, "I apologize I did not come sooner."

I pull away from him shaking my head. I take his face in my hands, grunting softly when I feel the stickiness of the honey in my fingers. I retreat my hands, as not to spread the thing on his cheek, but he presses his hands atop mine, holding me back. His palm covers the back of my hand as he pushes my hold back on him. He sighs at the contact.

My lips quiver at the sight of him. The next moment, I pull him into a kiss, still reeling from the fact he was here and that I could do this.

I wonder if it was me, him, or the time between us, but it felt different. The feel of his lips were both longing and loving but there was feel to it that I could not identify.

When we break away, I take his arm and lead him back to the girl. I look at her then look at him, smiling as I did, "she is a collector, my lord. She has only bore witness to 4 planetary alignments and yet she knows more flowers than I."

I turn to him, wondering if he remembered that that was how our folk counted our age, and that I meant the alignment of the five planets, which, on the basis of other creatures, happened every 19 years.

I do not get to respond or note on how he gulps at my words.

It was blistering reminder that it has been that long.

Dream nods, "she has named many flowers to me," he mutters and smiles, "she is as enchanting as her mother."

I chuckle and lean into him, "but she is as stubborn as her father."

He turns to me furrows his brows at this.

I release his arm with a chuckle and crouch down, beckoning the child over. I call out her name and she turns to me idly. "Come, my love," I wave my hands toward me.

She turns back to her flowers and continues to put them into her basket.

I let out a soft sound and stand. I turn to Dream, "the spitting image, as you see."

Dream's expression hardens. He is not stubborn. He furrows his brows tighter and looks down at the child, calling her name out with authority, making her turn to him. She stills as she looks up at the man, who says, "your mother is calling for you."

She merely blinks at him.

I laugh, shaking my head. I crouch down and lean on my knees. I call out to her again, beckoning her over in a higher pitch, and at last, she finally comes over, although visibly reluctant.

I laugh at her and take her into my arms, peppering her cheeks with kisses as I do so. She coils up and giggles and grins because of this.

Dream watches the exchange and feels his chest tighten.

I turn to him with a smile then back to the child, "my sweetling," I mutter to her, "do you know who this is?"

We turn to Dream at the same time. When I turn back to her, she purses her lips and looks with her wide eyes. She turns back to me, "sandman."

I break into a laugh and nod at her, "yes, my bright star. That is the sandman. He commands dreams."

She turns back to him and leans into me, casually observing the man.

I rock her in my arms and kiss her head, "that's your father, my love. You asked me before why you didn't have a father-"

Dream clenches his jaw.

"-I said you did-"

Because she does.

"-and this is him, darling," I explained.

Immediately, the girl perks, eyes widening even more than they already were. She mutters questioningly, then points, "sandman?"

I nod at her words, "yes, child, sandman is your father."

"Father?" she repeats incredulously, "he is my father?"

Dream feels as though he was kicked in the teeth.

My baby turns to me and whispers, "father?"

I give a sad smile and nod, "yes, baby. Father."

She turns to him and points, "you.... father?"

I turn back to Dream with a smile that is quickly stunted when I see the expression on his face. Dream looks like he was devoid of all color, more so this moment than a while ago.

I release a breath, rocking my daughter in my arms, "my dear, do you want to go to your father?"

The girl turns to me then back to him. She does not speak and only reaches out both her hands to Dream.

Dream instantly stiffens, visibly taken aback by the eagerness of the child. Yet not a second too late, he reaches out for her and takes her in his arms. In that moment, I swear I saw his being twinkle as she leaned into him.

The girl was so little and soft against him. He felt the need to hold his breath, as somehow the act would have been offensive to her. He would never do anything to offend her. It had been so long since he had held something so... so frail, so tender, so delicate in his arms. The moment she placed her clammy palm against his chin, he decided he would die for her. The moment she blinked at him then smiled, his insides scorched with a familiar protectiveness; he would never let anything happen to this creature so long as he was.

"Father," she mumbles through upturned lips. There was apparent splendor in her eyes. He would willingly be put through imprisonment again if only it ascertained that she never loses this gleam.

She smiles from ear to ear, "I love you."

Dream's soul is crushed.

No. He will never be imprisoned again. The thought of never beholding the sight of her sparkling face is the worst punishment anyone could ever muster.

Dream opens his mouth, wanting nothing more than to repeat and reassure his love that he, in fact, loved her too, but somehow, it did not feel right. It felt out of place, it felt cheap. He did not feel worthy to repay her affections when he knew his words were not nearly as genuine as hers. For he was jaded and cynical and so utterly lost.

He is glad that she leans into him, holding him in a tight embrace. He did not have to speak anything it seems

The sight of the father-daughter duo brought tears to my eyes.

I watched as Dream rubbed her back and tightened his hold on her form.

He releases a breath and mutters lowly, "would you like to see my collection, daughter?"

Immediately, his daughte pulls back and perks up. Her lashes flutter in intrigue, "do you-" excited heave, "do you collect flowers?!"

Dream presses his lips into a smile and shakes his head, "I collect stars."

The gasp that leaves her is one of astounded enchantment, "y-you WHAT?!" The girl turns to me with eyes the size as saucers, "mother! HE COLECTS STARS!"

I return her expression with shocked amusement.

Dream brushes her hair back, "I keep them in my coat."

The girl immediately turns to his coat, watching it so intently.

"If you like, I will give them all to you."

She does not hesitate and readily nods in excitement, "I DO, I DO, IDO, IDO, IDOIDOIDO!"

Dream laughs, "then, I say, all the stars in the sky are yours, my love," he announces softly, "however... I am embarrassed to admit, I have just regained my strength. I have yet to finish rebuilding my domain, so I cannot call the heavenly bodies and introduce you as their master for I have nowhere to invite them."

She stays silent upon hearing that. Then after a moment, she looks up at him, "we can invite them to here."

Dream presses his lips into a smile, "a generous offer."

"I can show them my flowers!"

I coo at the girl's sentiment.

"My daughter, bringing a star to the land of the Fae would be unwise," he gently explains, "instead, I will hasten my reconstruction of the Dreaming and bring you there promptly after."

She raises her hand, "I like dreaming!"

He is momentarily taken aback by this. Dream knows well the tide and currents of a child's mind, ever-changing and wild. Their words at times were here then there. It similar to that of dreams. And yet hearing this from his child was similar to having your heart clenched.

"I am honored by you," he adjusts her hold on her, "... would you like to watch me rebuild our Dreaming then?"

She opens her mouth then turns to me. I offer her a smile and nod instantly. She turns back to him and blinks slowly. She hums before she speaks, "I help mother cook, so I help father re-bill our dreaming."

Dream feels those words tug at the very fibre of his being. He gives the faintest of retorts, for he is afraid he would break if he spoke any louder, "thank you."

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dad!dream of the endless #dad!dream #girl dad!dream #papa bear!dream #the sandman blurb

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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years

Text

My Guiding Lights (Tommy Shelby x reader)

Summary: Tommy does not handle being out of control well, it claws at him like street cats, fighting and biting until he cannot handle it anymore. So when you are giving birth to his first child, he takes matters into his own hands.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 300 followers celebration! Congrats again!

My prompt was: the one with the birth

Quick disclaimer: I am not an expert in birthing practices during the 1920s nor am I Romani. For this story I did some research on both topics but not extensive, so please forgive me if I get anything inaccurate or misrepresent the Romani practices. I know I took some liberties because of what we have seen in the show.

Warnings: reader giving birth (if you haven't picked that up by now), mild language, brief mention of past violence, Tommy's mind and control freak tendencies.

Words: 4700

Tommy paced the snug of the Garrison, the few paces it consisted of. His feet guided him as his thoughts twisted and tumbled over one another. His strongest asset under attack. Stinging wasps infiltrated his mind. Fears plagued him. Stinging. Tormenting. Worry echoed with each footstep.

Back and forth.

Back and forth he paced.

He should have been utilizing these past few hours properly. The power-hungry businessman within him demanded it. Making plans for further expansion into and around London. Listening to the whispers of gossip and the hidden morsels of truth in them. Anything. Even cracking a few heads and bloodying his suit because someone looked at him wrong. Anything other than this useless pacing.

But the concern and fear kept an ever tightening chokehold around his throat, refusing to relent. So he paced.

Back and forth.

By the time he was done, there would certainly be a permanent groove embedded the wood floor.

Never more had he felt a predator trapped in a cage. Staring through the bars, eyeing those who stared warily at him, waiting….just waiting to sink his teeth into someone and shred them, just to momentarily sate the burning fear that choked him.

He stopped his pacing to throw back another glass of whiskey before resuming his relentless pacing. His suit jacket had been discarded within the first hour of his arrival at the Garrison. His sleeves were now rolled up, the top two buttons undone on his dress shirt. His hair most likely looked a mess with how often he had run his fingers through the dark strands. He knew this was a side of him rarely seen by the population of Birmingham. Thankfully so. For when Harry opened the door into the snug, to bring in their newest bottle of whiskey, he had physically recoiled when meeting Tommy's icy eyes. The gangster wondered how much of the manic consuming his mind bled through into his gaze, making him seem more crazed predator than human.

And so he paced.

Back and forth.

"Tommy, sit down." Arthur chuckled, throwing his cards down on the table. A groan left his lips when he realized that he lost another hand in the poker game Tommy was supposed to be playing with his brothers to distract him. Instead he was pacing.

Tommy ignored his older brother. His feet never stopped.

"C'mon, Tom." John smirked as he pulled the winnings closer to him. "You know Pol's takin' care of her. Esme's there too. She'll be fine."

"Not wot you was saying when your first was born, eh?" Arthur pointed out, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before draining it. "Puking behind the Garrison, you were. Drinking like a fish then to puke it all up from nerves. Me and Tommy almost put you outta your misery, knock you out cold. Fuck. Was planning on it when Ada came running' and screaming' about the baby being' born. Then you could barely walk back to Watery Lane, reeking of whiskey and vomit. If Martha wasn't holding a baby in her arms, she'd probably have hit you with her favorite pan. Yeah, that bloody heavy one too."

The corners of Tommy's mouth tilted upward as Arthur spoke, taking a moment to reminisce. He remembered Ada and Finn's births as a child himself. He could remember finally being allowed to return home after hours of being forced to stay outside while his mother screamed and cried with bringing new life into this unforgiving world. Yet with John's first, he had been a man and had a better understanding of what was going on. Of how precarious and difficult giving birth could be for both the woman and child. How there was no guarantee that both would survive. That a new life could just as easily rip away the one guiding it into the world. And all the blood and screams….

With that thought in mind, Tommy started pacing and chain smoking again. Fears renewed and clawed at him until he wanted to smash his head against the wall to just make it stop.

Right away this morning, before the sun even graced the sky and he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong.

Tommy always woke up before his wife, usually before any other Shelby member since he was a child. There was something about waking up before the rest of the world, in taking those minutes of silence and peace to allow his mind to fully awaken and his body to restart. To just be….until he put on the suit and firmly tightened the stoic mask he wore and became what he needed to be.

Once he met you, the love of his life, and convinced you to start regularly sleeping in his bed, he was now not as quick to rise and greet the sun. He would be awake, but instead of crawling out of bed like before, with a cigarette in hand and searching for a glass of whiskey to toss back, he would linger. His hand might trace lightly over your exposed skin or listen to your breathing there in the morning gray. His thoughts would writhe and twist like normal, scheming and planning before he had even rubbed the sleep from his eyes. But with you in bed next to him, he remained just a little while longer, soaking up the peace he only found with you nearby. His wife. The one who truly saw past his mask and drew out the hidden, compassionate side of him he had thought long dead and buried.

So when he woke up this morning, finding himself alone in the bed, only the first rays of sunlight hinted in the sky….he knew something was wrong.

Dressed only in a pair of knickers, Tommy rushed downstairs to find you washing the dishes you had been too tired to finish last night. Your nightgown hung loosely over your frame, but clung jealously tight against your swollen belly. As he opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, you froze, hand gripping the edge of the sink with an intense look of concentration. After two deep breaths, your eyes focused back as if waking from an uncomfortable daydream. It was then you noticed him. A beguiling smile lit up your face as you spoke softly.

"We're having a baby today."

And his whole world imploded.

Apparently, your contractions had started the hour prior and because of them you could not sleep. So instead of waking Tommy, which he was quite unhappy about and made sure you understood, you had snuck downstairs to do some chores while you waited for your contractions to progress. He logically knew it took hours until it was time for the baby's arrival, especially with the first. It did not mean he liked the idea of you suffering alone, even if you assured him you were fine.

Eventually Polly arrived, took one look at you and stated, "I had a feeling when I woke up it'd be today." Then she eyed Tommy in his undressed state, since he refused to leave his wife alone, and forcibly commanded that he get dressed and get to the betting shop. This was women's business now.

Yet while at the betting shop, he could not think. Worries gnawed away at his mind like filthy rats. Panic and despair whispered their half-truths into his ears. In his distressed state, all he could do was stare at the green doors. Knowing on the other side was his beautiful wife in labor with their first child. A baby they were both thrilled to have. Now anxiety reminded him what you must endure to bring his child into the world, to place it in his arms. And how easily he could lose both you and the already beloved baby.

Only after two hours of being open, Arthur and John shut down the shop for the day and dragged his arse to the Garrison. They kept Scudboat and Lovelock back to maintain presence at the betting shop and announce that it was a Birmingham holiday.

Hours late here he was. Still pacing. That ever tightening chokehold of fear made it hard to breathe. The heavy stone of anxiety threatened to cave in his chest. There had been no word of how you were doing. Or how the babe was. So his mind conjured nightmares to fill in the void of information. He wondered if the combination of terrifying thoughts and excessive whiskey would send him puking his guts out behind the Garrison. Now he felt a stab of regret for teasing John so ruthlessly after his own turbulent experience.

"Tommy," John murmured again, an undertone of understanding in his voice. He met his older brother's eyes, compassion shining as he spoke words of reassurance. "She'll be fine. She's strong. Pol won't let anything 'appen."

Tommy nodded silently, letting his brother's words flow over him like a cool breeze.

"Think the babe will look like Tommy?" Arthur asked, rearranging the cards in his hand. Clearly attempting to break the tense air stifling the snug.

"I fooking hope not. Poor child will be teased if he's that ugly."

Tommy lightly smacked the back of John's head, even as John just smirked and swatted him back. For a moment, the despair lightened like the sun breaking through storm clouds.

Arthur laughed loudly. "Yeah, probably best the babe takes after y/n. A beauty she is. Poor girl can't go anywhere without men just staring at 'er."

"That's me wife you're talking about." Tommy growled but without any sort of heat behind his words.

"And the perfect wife for you!" Arthur raised his glass in a toast before tossing it back. John quickly followed suit.

Tommy made a mental note to ask about who has been staring at his wife. Then he started pacing again.

Back and forth.

Finally, the storm swirling in his chest reached its peak, battering against his resolve until it lay decimated like a ship against the merciless rocks. He had to do something. Anything. If he continued pacing, drowning himself in whiskey and cigarettes, he was going to lose what last pieces of sanity he still maintained.

No one wanted to see the consequences of that.

Without a word, he grabbed his suit jacket and yanked it on. Even before his arms were fully in the sleeves, he had thrown open the door to the snug and raced out like the devil was on his heels. From behind, he could hear Arthur and John calling out to him but he kept moving. His fears, his sudden terror, growled at his heels like vicious wolves. His need to know, to see his wife, propelled him onward.

Tommy was a man who had always liked to be in control. Who held all of the cards and could play them as he pleased. Who was three steps ahead of everyone else. It was not arrogance when he could confidently say he was the most intelligent man in Birmingham. Ever since he was a child, he had always been more clever and smarter than his peers. When others could only see a straight line, he saw multiple, twisting lines that got him farther and with more resources than that single straight line everyone else saw.

Beyond that, he needed that control as much as the air he breathed. For without it, he felt like a rowboat lost at sea, tossed about by waves and praying it would not capsize. Bad things usually happened when Tommy was not in control.

But in this situation….he had none. There was nothing he could do. There was no one he could pay for the right information. No way to be ahead of the game. He had no control over childbirth. Over the pain his wife would endure. No control if everything went to hell. There was not a goddamn thing his hands or his mind could do to solve it.

And that very simple fact terrified him down to his core.

Without a care, he threw open the front door to 6 Watery Lane and stalked in like a predator on the loose.

Almost immediately, Esme popped around the corner from the parlor. Shock initially crossed her face before morphing into confused annoyance. She crossed her arms over her chest, dark eyes narrowed at him. "You can't be 'ere."

"It's me own home."

"You can't be here!" Esme practically snarled. "You'll bring bad spirits with you!"

Tommy approached his sister-in-law, his movements smooth, not giving away the way he felt his bones vibrating with agitation and concern. He stopped just in front of her, towering over her smaller form, his voice cold and clipped when he directed his question to her. "Where is she?"

Before Esme could respond, Polly stood behind her, an almost matching scowl on her face.

"You shouldn't be here, Thomas. This is women's business. You'll make the birthing further unclean if you come in."

"And bring bad spirits with you." Esme mumbled, still glaring though.

Tommy raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, willing himself to take a deep breath and not yell at the women in his family. He knew they still clung to many of the Romani beliefs and superstitions. Something he had never truly believed himself. All those notions about luck and bad spirits and fate….as a young boy he had disregarded it and continued to ignore them for the most part. The only thing he did believe in was curses.

When he no longer felt the urge to rampage through his own house, looking for his own wife, who was going to give birth to his own child, he lowered his eyes back to the women folk. Slowly he enunciated his next words, allowing his frustration to bleed over every syllable and hopefully make them realize how serious he was. "Where. Is. My. Wife?"

"Tommy, you can't–" Polly stopped and looked back into the parlor room, clearly listening. With a grumble, she rolled her eyes and stepped to the side just enough to indicate her begrudging willingness for Tommy to enter. "She's asking for you."

With a nod at his aunt, he crossed into the parlor room, unsure exactly what he was stepping into but knowing he needed to be here. For both himself and you.

What he saw both made his heart race and blood turn to ice. There you stood in front of the fireplace, still dressed in the loose nightgown. The firelight danced across you, highlighting your swollen belly and the sweat on your brow. Your hands tightly gripped the back of a wooden chair, your eyes pinched shut and a pained grimace on your face.

"She's close. Won't be much longer now." Polly softly said, shifting to stand by Tommy's side.

He nodded mutely at the same time your eyes slowly opened and turned to him. A stab to the gut, a bullet to the shoulder, anything would have been less painful. For it was the pain still obvious in your eyes and in every bead of sweat dotting your skin, that hurt to bear witness to. The worst was the small, shaky smile you gave him, the reassurance he needed when it should be the other way around.

"Tommy…." You barely mouthed before pinching your eyes shut again and your lips pulled back in the grimace as the next wave of contractions slammed into your body.

Immediately, Tommy moved. He shucked his suit jacket off, tossing it carelessly onto the couch. In the next step, he moved behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "What can I do, darling? Please tell me I can help."

With the short reprieve between contractions, you leaned back, resting your head on his chest. "I'm fine."

He snorted. "You're in labor." His hand absent-mindedly ran along your side and towards your back. "How can I help?"

A soft sigh escaped you. "Right there. My lower back."

His hand returned to rubbing soothing circles and applying pressure against your lower back. In the next moment, you were leaning forward, gripping the chair with a death-like hold.

He turned his focus onto his aunt, a new layer of fear and worry dripped into his blood like poison. "Shouldn't she be….screaming?"

"Some women handle pain, even labor pains, differently." Polly stared thoughtfully at you, someone the matriarch had stated was family even before you married Tommy. "You remember when she fell and got that gash on her arm. It bleed so much, I worried she'd pass out, but the whole time she never cried. Even when I stitched her up. Brave, foolish girl."

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek as the memory swept over him. It was before your relationship became concrete, when the two of you were just friends but he wanted so much more. The story you had shared was that you tripped and fell. Later, he learned the whole truth from one of the Peaky boys. That a drunkard had knocked you down and spat on you because in his intoxicated state, he confused you for his wife who was coming to retrieve him from the bar. The next day Tommy and his brothers paid the man a visit, educating him on what happens to those who hurt persons under the protection of the Peaky Blinders.

"I need to check her." Polly said, drawing Tommy out of his memories and back into reality.

Once the contraction ended, Tommy stepped back to roll up the sleeves of his shirt again while Polly checked your dialation.

The matriarch smiled up at you. "You're just about there. You're doing so good, love."

You nodded, already leaning forward with the next onslaught of pain.

"Tommy shouldn't be 'ere, s'not right." Esme said, taking a random scarf laying around and sliding her fingers through, making sure there were no knots.

Tommy glared at her, his voice ice cold. "I'm not leaving me wife while she's in pain."

With a huff, Esme got up, muttering under her breath continuously as she stomped over and rummaged through her bag.

Tommy swung his gaze back to his aunt. "Don't force me to leave. Please." He whispered. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a little boy. A vulnerability that had been shattered under the impact of his father's fists and the realization that the world did not care for lowlife scum like him and his family. But for this….for you, he would beg to not leave your side.

Polly hesitated but something in his gaze, in his words, made her inhale sharply and nod. Perhaps she caught a glimpse of that long lost boy she had watched vanish before her eyes. "Alright, Tom, but when it's time, you do what I say. No questions asked."

"Yes, boss."

She rolled her eyes, even as the corners of her lips tilted up. "I'll get the hot water and cloths ready."

As Polly headed towards the kitchen, Tommy returned to his spot behind his wife, rubbing your lower back and whispering encouragement. He knew enough from helping horses that nature would take its course and all one could do was wait.

Esme came to his side, holding a comb. "Let me brush her hair, can't have any knots. It'll help bring luck."

For the next several minutes, Tommy and Esme worked on you. His fears continued to fester. It was obvious each contraction seemed to worsen. The few times a whimper escaped your lips, he pressed his face against your head, wishing he could take away your pain. He would give anything to alleviate your pain, to take it upon himself. But he could not. So he did what he could to help, even if he felt useless. Which irked him. Made his skin crawl at his own uselessness. Those stinging thoughts in his mind transformed into vultures, circling, circling, waiting to feast on his decaying sanity.

What chewed away most at his confidence was how unresponsive you became as labor continued. He could still hear your breathing, could feel your heartbeat. But when Esme directed a question at you, it took several tries of your name before you responded.

He could not help but wonder if your continued silence was better or worse than screaming.

After some time, you stiffened. Your head shot up to where Polly had been standing, watching you with a hawk-like precision.

"I pushed….I–I didn't mean to. It just happened–"

"Good girl, it's alright. That just means it's time." His aunt said calmly, then directed the others like the general she was. "Tommy, help her around. Sit down in that chair, I want her squatting in front of you. You'll support her. Esme, prepare the cloths."

Tommy helped his wife quickly as his aunt directed. He sat down and spread his legs wide for you to squat between, facing outward. Pain seemed etched onto your beautiful face, your breathing shallow. Sweat coated your body. As soon as you were in position, you grabbed his hands, your arms over his thighs. He clutched your hands in return, hoping it brought you some idea of relief.

Polly knelt in front of you. "Alright, love, push when your body tells you too."

Time was irrelevant as you worked and fought to bring your child into the world. Your grip on his hands was borderline crushing but he never thought to complain or try and pull away. He continued to whisper, his lips against your temple, tasting your sweat, embracing what pain he could, to try and take it from you.

"I can't, Polly." You whimpered out after some time. The first words you had spoken since Tommy walked in a couple of hours ago. "I can't….I'm so tired."

His heart shattered like a glass window listening to you. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He wished he could offer you some comfort, some relief, but this was your battle, and he was stuck on the sidelines.

Polly's dark, knowing, eyes met yours. "Yes, you can. I promise. I can feel the head. You're almost there, love. A couple more pushes then you can meet your baby. Think about that. You can meet your babe in a few minutes. Don't give up."

You nodded before giving a grunt with the next contraction.

"One more! The head almost came out!"

Tommy pressed his lips to his wife's ear. "Let's meet our child, eh? My strong wife. Let's see our baby."

He wondered if you heard his words, if that was the encouragement you needed. For in the next instant, you let out a pained cry as your body shuddered.

"Yes! One more! I've got the head!" Polly said, with her hands underneath your sweat-soaked nightgown.

"Hear that? One more, my sweet darling. One more." Tommy crooned.

Then he heard it. The squelch. The flush. The sound of life entering the world.

Immediately, you sagged in his arms, all energy drained, like a puppet with its strings cut. He grabbed a hold and fell with you to the ground, cradling you in his lap. Blood stained your dress and legs, soaking into his clothes but he did not even notice. His sole focus was on the rapid breathing of his wife, your eyes closed and lips pressed together.

"Oh love, he's beautiful." Polly cooed as she cradled the bloody bundle in her arms. She used a different cloth to wipe away his face and head, a beaming smile on her face.

At her words, Tommy felt his heart miss a beat. A son. He had a son.

"Open your eyes, love. Meet your son." Polly carefully knelt down, holding the baby. She placed the newborn on your chest.

Even as shivers rocked through your body in response to the trauma it just experienced, your hands reflexively stilled as they cradled the newborn against you.

"We need something of Tommy's to wrap him in!" Esme cried.

"Me coat." He mumbled, eyes locked onto his son. Yet relief waited at the threshold, not quite ready to enter in and erase the fears and worries Tommy still harbored.

Esme grabbed the coat, bringing it over and gently laying it over the baby and his wife's bloody, sweaty body.

While you gazed lovingly down at the baby you had brought into the world, Tommy watched his aunt and Esme turn your body carefully and reach back under your nightgown. After several long moments, the faintest hint of concern slid off Polly's face.

She glanced up at him, most likely feeling his gaze locked on her. "The afterbirth is out and her bleeding is already slowing down. She'll be alright, Tom. I promise."

And with that simple, reassuring promise, the foul air that filled his lungs with fear was knocked away with a swift kick. Relief finally crossed the threshold and anchored itself into his mind. His arms tightened around his still trembling wife. The emotional turmoil he had warred with throughout the day seeped out, leaving him emotionally exhausted. Yet through it all, he had never felt more alive. More hopeful.

His focus dropped down to the baby on your chest, his little mouth opening and closing slowly and his tiny fingers twitching. A sense of awe and wonder crawled up his spine to twist around his heart. You, his beautiful wife, had given him a child. A single tear escaped his watery eyes and dropped into your hair but neither of you seemed to notice, too absorbed in the miracle you had created together.

"You did it." He croaked out. "We've a son. Our son."

"Our baby." You murmured.

As if hearing your words, the newborn opened his eyes….and Tommy thought he could drown into the vast blue of them. For they were his eyes staring back at him.

At that moment, he knew he would do anything for his son. He thought he knew love when he gave his heart to you, when he allowed himself to be completely vulnerable with you in ways he had never been with anyone else. But this….staring into his son's eyes. It was a far different feeling than he expected. For you, his wife, he would sell his soul to the devil without a second thought to take care of you. But for his son, for this new babe in your arms that with a single look shook the foundations of his world, he would storm the gates of hell and rip the devil's heart out himself if anyone dared harm his child.

"I love you." Tommy whispered as overwhelming emotions welled up in his chest, clinging to his throat, and threatening to escape in sobs of sheer relief and devotion. Instead he placed a kiss to your temple and ran a single finger over the top of his son's head.

"I love you too, Tommy." You glanced up at him, from where you reclined against his chest, before turning back to your baby. "And we love you. Mummy and daddy love you so much."

Tommy stared down at his family, the love of his life and his newest reason to be better, to do better. His heart stretched and strained, trying desperately to fit the love overfilling it, just trying to accommodate it all somehow.

As he continued to gaze down at his son while Polly helped you to try and feed him, he knew one thing for certain. What ruthlessness people thought he harbored was nothing compared to what would be unleashed if anyone dared to touch his family. A peaked cap or a bullet to the brain would be the least of their concerns. He would overthrow governments to keep his family safe. He would break countries to keep his family protected. Nothing was outside of the realm of possibility he would do. For as his love grew to encompass his new son, his need to see him and you safe mirrored it. Whatever it would take. He would see it done.

For his wife and now his son were his guiding lights and he refused to allow anyone to put them out.

Tag List:

Peaky Blinders- @slytherinicequeen @geekandbooknerd @lilyrachelcassidy @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @minxsblog

(lemme know if you wanna be added or deleted from the tag list)

#mzwrites #peaky blinders #bbc peaky blinders #by order of the peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #aunt polly #esme shelby #ems300

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