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#and i got so angry i rage quit
piplicious · 7 months
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ok guys weather report :
likely a few more days without art or much activity coming bc while i got used to juggling uni+job+job, i now have shit ton of documentation to do after unis teachinf practise shit fuck fuck penis fuck period and boy is it not fun.
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godzexperiment · 6 months
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me tagging sacrilege cw for the first time ever for the starter im typing up just like -gestures at nix- when you get angry, you really get angry
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kachowder · 2 months
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i need more of the pervy fanboy yandere content please i miss him bye I love your work
Rage Quit
Obsessed!Fan x Streamer!Gn!reader
summary: Collin’s favorite streams are the ones where you lose your cool.
a/n: Collins a creep, perverted behavior, parasocial relationship, nsfw.(S/N) “Streamer Name”
★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・
“No…no..no FUCK!”
Green eyes stared intently at the recording, watching as the content creator flopped back dramatically in their chair. Their eyes screwed in irritation, hands dug against the skin of their forehead as they dragged them down, exaggerating their expression.
Music played softly in his ears.
“Man…sorry guys I really thought we were gonna win that one..”
A ping went off, and Collins breath hitched, caught in his throat as he heard the little bot chime.
“BigRed donated 45$….‘Don’t worry (S/N), they just got lucky.’”
You snorted, that disappointed gleam in your eyes fading as you stretched with a groan. “You got that right Red, thanks for the Dono. I just wasn’t locked in, this next one guys, demolished. They’re screwed, royally.” You laughed, glancing at the chat wall, mumbling thank you’s and replies to other fans as you did, but he wasn’t listening.
His hand was to busy fisting the fabric of his gym shorts to listen, while his other sped across his keyboard. Click clack click clack.
His alt account.
“MushroomGhost donated 1000 bits….’Hey (S/C), it’s my best friends birthday…do you think you could say “Happy Birthday Collin”? That’d really make his day. Thank so much! Love the streams.”
He waited.
“Mmm….oh! Hey Ghost thank you for the bits..duh duh…oh, hey Collin! Happy birthday man hope you’re having a good day, thank you for the support! Love you lots!” Your hands curved together, a small heart formed in the gap as you grinned at the camera briefly.
His mouse clicked.
“Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Collin!”
“Fuck..” The saliva in his throat thickened, eyes watering as his cheeks burned red hot to the tips of his ears, his heart thundered in his chest violently.
His hand crept down. “Collin!”
Rewind.
“Collin!”
He gasped, lip ringing shining with the saliva that began to dribble down the side of his mouth, eyes fluttering. He felt like he was gonna pass out. He was sweating buckets but he didn’t wanna take the jacket off. It was your merch. It was signed. He couldn’t take it off.
His cock throbbed after being released from his shorts. Angry and red, swelling and pulsing as your voice rang and smashed into his skull.
“Collin!”
Rewind.
“Mmmmf- fuck…fuck..!”
He was being too rough. He whimpered behind the fabric of his hoodie, caught between his teeth and soaked in his saliva as his hand jerked so violently along his cock.
It wouldn’t take long. Never did with you.
But he needed to be quick. Your stream was almost over.
“Hey BigRed, what game should we play after this?”
“Shit!” White shot across his hands, sweatshirt, dripping onto the desk and floor as he heaved.
He cursed under his breath at the mess, but his vision swam and his head throbbed like he was drunk as his high began to crash back down again.
Number three.
Only 30 minutes left for number four.
“BigRed donated 100$….’Remember getting over it?’”
“Why do you always pick the ones that piss me off??”
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lucyrose191 · 3 months
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TAME THE WOLFF| T.WOLFF
Pairing; Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader
Summary; A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath
Warnings; angry Toto.
F1 Master List
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It was no secret that during a race weekend Toto could get a little….frustrated.
Okay, frustrated was putting it way too lightly, the man got way too passionate about his work and when things didn’t go the way they’re supposed to it was like a volcano was erupting in his mind and he just loses all sense of control leading him to his famous actions of smashing headphones.
The Austrian was already intimidating enough with his tall stature and the confidence he eluded but when he was angry he wasn’t just intimidating, he was scary.
The way his dark eyes seemed to turn almost entirely black and how the veins in his forehead throbbed were signs that had the Mercedes team shifting in their seats and the moment he started running his hands down his face was the moment the higher people in the team would get their phones out and call for help.
That help being you.
It had taken a long time for the team to acknowledge the effect you had on their team principle because he never got angry when you attended races but it was when you arrived to races later in the day that they started to see how things changed.
It was one particular day when Toto had arrived to the track already a bit frustrated, whether that was because of your absence or not they didn’t know but the pile up of disastrous events had lead to the team principle throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs.
Then you arrived.
You certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the garage and be greeted by your husband in a fit of rage and the entire team stood frozen like petrified animals but the sight of fear on their faces had upset you greatly, especially knowing that it was because of Toto’s, quite frankly unnecessary, tantrum.
You walked over to your husband, who hadn’t even noticed you amidst his anger, and gently placed your hand on his arm.
Any member of the team would’ve called you crazy in that moment, walking over to the beast of a man with no fear on your face when he could have easily turned around and launched you across the room without even thinking.
He had been ready to throw a fist at the person who had the gall to touch him before he saw that it was you, his beloved wife looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes even as he was acting like a brute.
The team had never seen him change personalities so quickly in that moment.
You didn’t say anything to him, instead you placed your other hand on his back and guided him away from everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to move him by yourself but he allowed you to guide him away with absolutely no argument.
You opened the door of his makeshift office, saying nothing as he strode straight past you without a glance, steam practically spilling from his ears, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.
Apart from his unsettled shuffling the room was filled with an intense silence as you shut the door, simply watching as his chest rose and fell harshly, you could see that he was trying to calm himself down now that he was in your presence but he was struggling to do so and that was only frustrating him further.
"Sit down," you gently instructed him, nodding towards the small sofa pushed up against the wall of the small room.
He wanted to argue but he stopped himself and did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa he buried his face into his hands.
You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his head, allowing him to lean into your stomach, you ran your hands through his hair.
"I understand you’re stressed and that things aren’t going the way you want them too but the way you’re shouting is unfair to the team, they are not your verbal punching bag but you’re treating them as they are."
Toto closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closer.
He knew you were right, you always were and that’s what he loved about you, how you were always there to talk some sense into him.
He didn’t say anything though, he just held you firmly but gently and used your presence to calm him down.
There were many things he needed to be doing right now but he couldn’t find himself to care, right now the most important thing was calming down and spending time with you, no matter how long that took.
When the Mercedes team heard the door to their boss’ office unlock and saw the man himself walk out completely calm with you following shortly after, they were beyond amazed.
It was that day that the members of the team who had your number put you on speed dial in preparation for when an incident like this happened again, which it no doubt would.
"It seems that Toto Wolff is beginning to get a little bit frustrated down in the Mercedes garage."
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary commentary that wasn’t helping in the slightest.
Your husband was getting agitated and the nearby team members were nervously glancing in his direction as though they were mentally preparing themselves for him to blow his top.
Instead of waiting for Toto to lose it, you stood behind him and loosely wrapped your arms around him, thumbing at the collar of his shirt.
Everyone around could see the tension immediately release from his body just from your comforting touch.
Toto grabbed one of your hands with his own, stroking his thumb back and forth across your skin, using the motion as a way to ground himself.
The whole garage went silent at the sight of both of their cars spinning off the track in turn 1. What once was going to be a promising race from starting second and third has turned into a disaster in such a short amount of time.
Everyone was utterly speechless as the entire team just sat there staring at their monitors in shock.
But then they actually acknowledged that it was silent and all simultaneously turned towards their boss with confused stares only to see you blocking him from the cameras that were pointing into the garage, leaning down and whispering, what they could only guess were calming, words to him.
Whilst the cameras couldn’t see his face, the team could and they could tell he was, rightfully so, furious as the situation, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things.
He definitely wanted to but he wasn’t.
You weren’t really in the mood to be in the garage today surrounded by so much noise to the point you could barely hear yourself think and the smell of fuel so strong it made you nauseous but you still wanted to support your husband as you weren’t able to accompany him everywhere he went so you settled in his makeshift office on what was possibly the worlds smallest sofa with your laptop sitting in your lap and your headphones placed over your ears to block out the noise from the team outside and the cars on the track.
It had been hours and you were content in the alone time you were getting, it was just you and your music playing in your ears that you didn’t notice the multiple calls you were receiving.
Unbeknownst to you, outside of his office, your husband was kicking off and nothing anyone did or said could calm him down.
The team had never witnessed Toto as angry as he was right now, the veins in his forehead more prominent than ever and whilst most didn’t understand the German words coming out of his mouth, they knew he couldn’t be saying anything nice.
Bono was trying to get a hold of you for possibly the twentieth time and he was still having no luck, he felt the pressure of the teams eyes on him, begging for the news that you’d be coming knowing that he was only one of a few that had your number and the means to find you right now but he wasn’t getting anywhere.
Poor Lewis and George were getting the brunt of the Austrian’s anger and even though they hadn’t a clue of what he was saying, they were starting to question the security of their jobs.
Luckily, a mechanic who had just entered the garage and was completely taken aback by the scene in front of him, awkwardly side shuffled to Bono and questioned what was going on. "He’s acting crazy! I can’t get a hold of Y/N."
"Didn’t she go straight into his office when they arrived earlier?" The mechanic asked.
Bono looked at him in shock and relief before jumping to his feet and wasting no time as he jogged in the direction of Toto’s office.
It was rude but he didn’t bother knocking, he almost cried when he saw you sitting there.
You got the fright of your life as the door burst open but the sight of a frantic Bono caused you to remove your headphones and look at him in confusion.
"Oh thank god you’re here! Toto’s gone mental!"
You released a sigh at his words and pushed your laptop to the side and got up from the sofa. "What for now?"
"I honestly have no idea but if he doesn’t calm down soon then Lewis and George might just start crying and Toto looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel."
The moment you stepped out into the short, narrow corridor you heard your husbands angry German shouting. "Mein Gott," you muttered to yourself.
Entering the main part of the garage you weren’t greeted by a pretty sight at all, Bono wasn’t overreacting in the way he described Toto, Lewis and George and let’s not forget about the rest of the team.
You headed straight for your husband, not acknowledging the looks of relief you saw build on everyone’s faces, especially the two drivers’.
You didn’t even need to say anything to Toto, you just stood in front of him and looked up at him with a stern gaze that soon got him to shut up but his eyes were still blazing with fury as he looked down at you, you knew his anger wasn’t aimed at you, he was just still pent up with emotions.
You nodded in the direction of his office and simply walked away, expecting him to follow after you if he knew what was good for him.
He followed you.
The moment you heard him close the door you turned to him. "This needs to stop."
He looked at you furiously, "how am I supposed to stop when I have two drivers that can’t even get through a lap without crashing into each other!"
"Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Torger!" Your voice cut through the air as you glared at him which soon caused his face to shift from angry to wounded as you scolded him.
"How hard is it for you to simply sit them down and give them a stern talking to, there’s no need for the way you completely blow your top, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum."
He was still beyond angry, you could see it in his eyes and the way he shifted on his feet and he was about to retort but you cut him off. "I don’t want to hear you right now, I want you to sit down in silence and calm down before a single word comes out of your mouth."
He pursed his lips, not at all happy but he did as he was told and sat down in the chair behind the small desk, you didn’t spare him a glance as you sat yourself back where you were before Bono came searching for you, pulling your laptop back onto your lap to finish what you had been doing.
It was a good 15/20 minutes later when you heard him get up from his seat and make his way over to you. He sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder causing you to roll your eyes but a smile grew on your face at his actions, you were glad he couldn’t see it though.
You continued to carry on with what you were doing, letting him decide how he wanted your conversation to go and so it remained silent for a few more minutes with you and Toto simply sat there, him resting against you simply soaking up the comfort of your presence.
He shifted and pressed a kiss to your temple before returning back to his position. "Are you mad at me?" He asked when you remained silent.
You closed your laptop and put it away before shifting the both of you so you were up straight and looking at each other. "No," you told him honestly, "I just wish you wouldn’t let your frustrations get the best of you all the time."
He looked down at your words before looking back into your eyes with a sincere look, "I’m sorry."
"It’s okay," you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back. "We just need to find a way for you to keep yourself together."
"You’re the way," he replied immediately which stunned you and he was okay with that. He pulled you into his arms and you both just sat there.
You could be quite the opposite at times but you were content with that because you would always be there to ground him whenever his emotions got out of control.
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cassie48 · 2 months
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• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 •
Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader
Pt 4
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
It had been almost 2 months since Paul had took over as emperor. Life was great, people treated you like a queen. You lived in a huge temple, with more handmaidens than you can count.
More importantly though, you had Paul. You no longer had to worry about him, as he was the most powerful man in the empire. Paul had been more colder, but in all honesty you didn’t care, because he never was to you.
Last night you and Paul were sat in your shared bedroom, laying together in your bed. Paul was always doting on you, and ordered doctors to check on you every day. Last week a doctor had said you should stay in bed when possible, and that the baby was due anyday.
Your head was on his chest, his hands wrapped around you. You were so tired, your body was overwhelmed with pregnancy. 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘄, you told yourself.
“Has the doctor been kind to you?” Paul questioned.
“He’s nice, he seems to know what he’s talking about” you say, your eyes closed.
“If he’s ever 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲 to you, tell me” he says placing his hand over your large bump.
You nod into his chest before dozing off to sleep for the second time that day. Paul laughed to himself, he loved seeing you like this. He was excited for his son to come into the world but, in all honesty he is gonna miss you being pregnant.
He was going to miss the sight of you full with his child, your reliance on him, your pouty lips and watery eyes when you didn’t get what you want.
He sighed kissing your head before slipping out of bed, to go back to work. He had been quite busy recently, due to only becoming emperor.
You awoke the next morning, looking to your side only to see no sight of Paul. Although you wished he was there it didn’t come as a surprise, he was so busy lately. You sat up slightly, only for your mouth to drop in shock.
You looked down to see wetness on the bed. Your water had broken.
You called your handmaidens who were in the next room. They immediately came to your side, one running off to find the doctor.
The doctor came and got you comfortable, telling you that you still had at least two hours before the baby would come.
You tried to stay calm as your contractions worsened, after an hour you started crying for Paul, the doctor said it was best to leave him at his work.
You didn’t listen and kept begging for him to be brought here. Finally one of you handmaidens agreed to tell him.
When Paul heard someone walk into his meeting room he was furious, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘂𝗽𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗿, he thought.
“Get out” he said coldly.
“My lord, it’s the empress, the baby is coming” she said quickly and frighteningly.
Paul’s eyes widened in shock, as he quickly left a room, not a word to the men sat all around him.
Once arriving to your room, he noticed the door closed for your privacy.
“My lord, it’s best for you to wait out here, birth is not a nice sight” A guard said.
“Are you telling me the empress is not a beautiful sight?” He growled.
“N-No my lord I simply-“ he started
“Oh I see, you do think she’s beautiful. How dare you be around her, she’s not a sight anyone like you should see. I command you open these doors” Paul yelled full of rage.
The guard quickly yanked open the doors, scared for his life. He had never seen the emperor so angry before.
Paul walked into the room full of power, shoving past people in his way.
“Paul?” A gentle voice cried out
He looked to his right to see you lying on the bed with tears in your eyes. He quickly made his way beside you.
“I’m here my love, why are you crying?” He said kissing your hand
“I thought you wouldn’t come” you said in a sad voice.
“I’d never miss the birth of our son” he said in a stern voice.
“My lady, the time has come for you to start pushing” the doctor said.
You nodded and began to push, this went on for minutes, blood sweat and tears included in the process when suddenly a high pitched cry entered the room, making everything else quiet too.
You began to cry seeing your baby, Paul sitting beside you helping you sit up a little as your baby was handed to you.
“Oh, my baby” you cried leaning on Paul’s side. You kissed your sons head, rocking him gently.
“What shall we name him Paul?” You asked with a smile.
“I think Duncan would suit him just fine” Paul said, smiling down at his little family.
You nodded, sniffling as your tears stopped eventually.
A few hours later, you had been washed and taken care of, and your room was cleaned also.
The doctor gathered his things, before turning the the couple.
“The last thing to do is for you to breastfeed my lady, let me show yo-“ the doctor began.
“Her handmaidens may show her, leave” Paul yelled in anger.
The doctor nodded before speed walking out the door. You laughed slightly.
Paul joined you in your bed once more, kissing your sons head, and then pecking your lips, the two of you had never been happier.
Man’s there it was,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
I hope you all enjoyed this four part story, I have a feeling I’m not done writing for Paul….
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A/N: Okay I have been playing Genshin for quite some time now, and I'm sure my eyes are hurting like a bitch, but this is a quick idea( and also a short story of a series I'm writing) since I have been reading SAGAU and Creator!Reader works a lot!
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Everyone thought, just like Creator!Reader did who played Genshin for hours and built the characters, that Mondstadt would be home. With the jolly people and freedom coursing through the air, and with Venti being the Spirit of Freedom, everyone would listen at least. You were just as terrrified yet also happy and confused as anyone could be, surely they wouldn't execute you, right?
Wrong, so painfully wrong.
Instead Creator!Reader was hunted down blindlessly, who only entered the city with a big smile but left it as soon as possible with a horrified look.
But instead... Razor and Bennett found the Creator!Reader, shivering in the cold with- Was that golden blood?
Razor, since he was raised by wolves, didn't have an exact understanding of the Creator but he listened to his family talk about Them, how they thanked Them with their howls for the food and family and shelter given to them and how they praised the Golden Blood of yours to keep flowing through your very being so that one day, you would come back to Teyvat.
Therefore he knew who you were but Bennett?
Poor boy grew up with the stories of yours! How you created new worlds where there were many different creatures, magic and every kind of ores... Or how you gifted them with many new weaponary and such, how you gave them life and what they have built so far.
How you let them live in peace through their Archon.
So, to see your body covered in Gold blood with a terrified look, their first reaction was to jump up and warm you immediately, patching up any wounds so that their Creator didn't suffer anymore.
But whatever the people must have done to you, had messed you up pretty bad because you, The Creator of All, whimpered in fear and pain, still shaking with your hands up defensively.
"P-Please don't hurt m-me... I swear I didn't mean t-to..."
So, that was how you were coddled up by these two babies while they wondered with rage coursing through them that who did this to you. They weren't stupid, since they were close to their City, they knew it was them and couldn't help but feel shame for their actions. Everyone had been expecting your arrival for quite some time, preparing feasts and what they would say to you in person and then they just...
Blinded by fake religion and ideas, tried to kill you.
How funny Teyvat was more like Earth than you ever imagined?
And they didn't even want to know what would have happened to Teyvat, how angry the Winds and the ground would be at the people for killing the Divine One.
You were still aprehensive as normal, not used to the kindness they were showing you but watching as Razor bring you a very pretty shaped stone with a happy grin and offered it as a token of friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart as one of the many wolves in his family laid around you protectively.
You asked why he was doing this, when he had no understanding of who you were, when his people were hunting you, but the only answer you got was a confused tilt of his head and a soft spoken,
"You are my lupical and I want you to be happy... They are not my people, they were wrong."
Now Bennett didn't know if he should correct Razor since he was actually talking to their Creator, warn him about not to refer to you so casually, but the big and wide smile on your face as you hugged them thightly to yourself with tears in your eyes which held the stars warmed them both so affectionately and lovingly that they knew you needed this.
You needed to have friends, not worshippers.
And as they, alongside with the Traveller, Klee, Albedo( who was glad he was pulled here by Klee and help you) and Amber who was convinced of who you were by the wounds you had and how you literally breathed life into one of the many burned and ruined forest and was horrified at learning what the Mondstadt did, healed you back and helped you hide, that was when you realized that you did a good job by loving those four and building them up as much as possible.
But those traits weren't the only ones who convinced them. It was how you saw Amber's ambition and praised her for having such a strong dedication to her job to which she bashfully thanked you and cried softly because how kind and generous you were to them even when your life was in danger.
And you didn't forget to tell Lumine to let others deal with commissions and errands, to give herself a rest, with a huge amount of Mora you really didn't know where you got from but was just inside your pouch ( since I chose her and believe the Twins need to hear this) and also about what was going on with her brother and promised to explain more in depth after you were safe to which she held your hand in her warm and calloused ones softly and answered with don't worry about us, Your Grace. Just focus on your life and that's all the gift that you can give to me.
But as much as they loved to have you here and listen to your world and jokes, they also knew you couldn't stay here for much longer. Yes, the forest was big ( and the nature seemed to be hellbent on protecting you) but they knew the Knights wouldn't stop until they got you.
What a surprise that the Crux came to the City, with a frantic Kazuha searching everywhere in the dock for what the Wind whispered to him.
"Our Creator needs help. Help them. Save them."
And that was how you started to wander the streets of Liyue with Kazuha next to you, also hellbent on protecting you especially after seeing the state you were in. The City was literally glowing, and no it wasn't because of the lanterns but you, The Divine Creator who stepped in the City which was raised and built in your name.
He knew there was a famous pharmacy named Bubu Pharmacy and the owner of it was able to heal pretty much every kind of this disease, so he took you there in hopes that the fever you had been suffering from could be solved there.
And it was.
Baizhu, as the usual self-sacrificing man he was, did everything in his power to help you. You knew how his hands were already full with both his own disease and Qiqi who quickly grew on you since she has been playing with you and telling you all about what she learnt about the herbs and the City( she couldn't explain why but she just felt so close to you, as if you were like a parent to her which her caretaker also shared kind of the same love for you) and you were grateful for what they had done to you, how kind they were.
They had shown you the kindness you expected to have when you first arrived, and it wasn't given by other.
Not the most known ones, but the kindest of them all did.
So, as a token, you touched the hand of Baizhu softly one day while he worked to pack you herbs and medicine you might need, stopping him and asking him why he was doing this when he casually( though his heart was beating hard at having you touch hım so softly) replied with a I'm a doctor and you needed help.
You looked at him for some time, then a smile so bright that it made the doctor take a while to stare at you softly overtook your face and you replied You're so strong for carrying such a burden like your disease but still help people, Baizhu.
That was when his suspicions about who you were was proven, since he never told about his disease to anyone (after realizing the golden wounds and how he seemed healthier in your presence) and he immediately went to kneel but was stopped by your gentle hands on his face, rubbing soft circles under his tired yet wide open in shock eyes, his heart almost giving out when your lips touched his forehead softly and blessed hım with your warmth.
Never bow to me, thank you for all you had done for me... Now, let me pay back.
After healing him back and yet once again running away from Liyue so that you weren't hunted down, making the Crux the enemy to Liyue since they were helping you (not that they cared, they loved being pampered by the True God with love, luck and food), a certain sea monster and the eartqueaks of Liyue almost destroyed the whole City for their disrespect so much so that Zhongli had to come back as Rex Lapis and he wasn't even able to stop it until the Wind carried your soft words to Liyue and Osial and made them stop.
Don't punish and destroy them, they don't deserve it...
-- A similar situation happened back in Mondstadt when Dvalin caused chaos after learning what they had done to Divine Creator, roasting the shit out of Venti for his mistake but also was stopped by your gentle caress even from Miles away, to stop hım from harming them. He gave them their lesson anyways, he only needed to find you to protect you as he left the people of Mondstadt in Terror and fear for what they had done.
The "they" in question was obviously the Crux, Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling and Shenhe who showed their love and care for you, who was logical enough to listen to you and see the truth for themselves. Xiangling who made you many delicious food you never ate before, Shenhe who was comforted by you about how she wasn't a cursed child and was loved dearly by everyone and most importantly you as she cried into your chest, who believed in her purpose to fit in with humans even with her tendencies, which you found to be a beautiful part of her...( not me reflecting my Shenhe love here ehe 。⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠。)
Asking "why are you doing this?" had become some kind of a test, like those in fairytales in your world, to see who was kind and sincere and who wasn't.
And you used it in many nations: Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine...
Inazuma was, of course, the WORST so far since Ei was obsessed with Eternity and the Creator, not even listening at all. But even if she didn't, the Kamisato siblings, Kokomi, Gorou, and Thoma believed in you from the very beginning, with many others soon following after them.
Ayaka and Kokomi were the first ones, with Ayaka seeing the sadness in your eyes at how restricted you were, how no one seemed to believe in you and how Inazuma seemed calmer and more happy as soon as you arrived( and how you reassured her to be herself and not live according to what people would say which made her love you and convince her brother to listen, who was glad she did if not... Well, he didn't want to imagine it.) and Kokomi hearing the whispers of the ocean who was the happiest, who cheered for you and didn't stop chanting your name, which lead her to see it for herself and welcome you to Watatsumi Island as the God she worshipped. Who was also praised by you for her smartness and how she worked hard for the Island even if her career plan wasn't this, but was warned to not to overwork which she blushed at and assured Creator!Reader.
Not surprisingly enough, Sumeru was the kindest to you since Nahida knew who you were even before coming to her nation and greeted you herself excitedly, showing you around as her people( Yes, even Tighnari and Al-Haitham who was known to be stern) smiled and offered you a new home.
Fontaine was probably the happiest you had been, after Sumeru, to stay. Furina, as much as she didn't believe in herself, saw right through you and knew who you were, providing you with utmost care and protection ever alonsgide Neuvillette who always hang around you, protected you and even became your friend! Maybe it was the dragon instincts in him, once the closest to you like Zhongli but also one who wasn't blinded like him, as he stayed with you when your fears and nightmares became too much to bear.
Who knew, maybe something more would happen?
And after all the nations realized their mistake, after you defeated Celestia and came to a peace with It, and restored Khaenri'ah who always believed in you from the beginning even years ago, they feared the punishment waiting for them. They didn't want to accept their mistake, blame Celestia for all of it... But they also knew they were blinded by hard and unlogical belief and almost did the most unforgivable sin ever.
They were ready for any punishment from you, even if it included never seeing you again...
But the only answer to their question was a letter written by you, which made them shiver.
The only reason none of the nations who wronged me are not punished severely was because of the names listed below. Shall any harm come to them, your nation would see the true wrath of the Creator.
Thank you to Razor, Bennet, Amber, Klee, Albedo and dear Traveller from Mondstadt.
Thank you to Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling, Shenhe, the Crux, Beidou and Kazuha from Liyue
Thank you to Kamisato Ayato and Kamisato Ayaka, Thoma, Gorou, Kokomi from Inazuma.
Thank you to Sumeru, Khaenri'ah, Fontaine and Natlan people for their never ending kindness and belief.
Eternal gratitude and blessings from the Creator, who you helped to gain confidence and power...
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loki-cees-all · 4 months
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Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}
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Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link
Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader
Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.
W/c : 6.2k words
Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position
Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!
18+ Only - Minors DNI
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This had to be a joke. 
Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 
Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…
But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 
The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 
Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.
“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”
The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 
You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 
He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 
“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.
It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 
But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.
“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 
You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 
Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 
“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 
“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 
She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 
“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”
“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”
“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.
The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.
“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”
The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”
Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 
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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 
If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 
By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 
“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 
Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 
“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 
“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 
The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 
Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 
Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 
You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 
And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 
As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 
It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 
And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.
A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 
You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 
And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 
You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”
“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 
You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 
“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 
Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 
Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”
He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 
You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 
“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”
Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 
“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 
“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 
Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 
“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 
“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 
“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 
“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 
“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 
How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 
The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 
You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 
Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 
Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 
The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 
It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 
All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?
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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 
A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 
He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 
But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 
“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 
“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 
Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 
It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 
“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 
No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 
Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 
You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 
Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 
“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?
“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 
Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 
His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 
“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 
“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 
You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 
“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 
“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 
Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 
“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 
“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 
You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 
“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 
This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…
And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 
The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 
Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 
Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 
“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 
“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 
“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 
Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 
That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 
“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 
“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 
Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 
“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 
Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 
Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 
Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 
“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 
Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 
You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 
He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 
“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 
“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 
You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 
“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 
Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 
You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 
The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 
There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 
The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 
Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…
Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 
Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 
A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 
Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 
You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 
The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 
You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 
“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 
You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”
“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 
Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 
“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 
Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 
Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 
Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”
His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 
You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 
Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
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vampyrsm · 1 year
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ꕤ 𝐀𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐫
ꕤ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ares!Bakugou x Aphrodite!Reader
ꕤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.8k
ꕤ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Female Reader, MDNI, 18+ content, reader is married, unprotected sex, no prep, reader is cheating on her husband (with Bakugou), implied soulmates, Bakugou is much bigger than you, pet names used (my love, sweetness, etc.), back-to-back orgasms, squirting, creampie, Bakugou is deeply in love (he's a sap), praise, breeding, talks of having a child.
ꕤ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: So I decided to stray slightly away from the Greek Mythology we know, as in I didn't make them all related lol, that's just very complex and something I didn't want to think too much about. I do keep it somewhat 'canon' to what we know of Ares/Aphrodite's love affair and the outcome of the affair. When the reader refers to Enji as father, they are not related in my story - it's just how the other Gods often talked to Zeus as he was the Allfather. A quick rundown of the people involved: Zeus (Enji), Ares (Bakugou), Aphrodite (You), Hephaestus (Touya), and Hermes (Hawks/Keigo). If you're confused as to what Bakugou is wearing, it's this. Anyway, enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes, I tried to proof read but I'm only human.
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Golden chalices filled to the brim with the finest of red wines clinked together, sloshing the crimson liquid onto the hand-carved marble table. It was always a grandiose event whenever the Gods were gathered, everyone in Olympus knew when they were in attendance. Mount Olympus was buzzing with anticipation for days and nights leading up to the event when the Gods would arrive to greet their King.
Though with all the theatrics, it was never a pleasant experience for some Gods. 
One of them was Bakugou, the God of War, who remained poised by the marble columns wrapped in ivy. His own wine had been long forgotten the moment it was given to him, he was never one to drink when such an event happened. He couldn’t trust the King as far as he could throw him – and Bakugou had quite the throwing arm. 
He was unusually angry tonight, his arms crossed tightly over his scarcely clad chest and he wore a deep-set frown as he glowered at the table. It was loud, as expected, with laughter and boisterous shouting whenever someone got a little too excited. But it wasn’t just the noise that was driving the God of War to madness, but rather it was you.
You, sitting at the table with your own chalice that was dainty and filled with a finer wine. You had always had a taste for the finer things, and Bakugou was no stranger to such things. You smiled and spoke when you had to, but everyone at the table knew you were amongst the strongest there – no one dared to make a comment on just what you got up to behind closed doors. 
Everyone knew about your lustrous adventures, perhaps it was just a side effect of being the Goddess of Love and Beauty – forever doomed to yearn and want more. You attracted far too much attention to yourself, yet you always revelled in the way people would worship you and beg. 
It drove Bakugou crazy. You had the ability to wrap people around your little finger with a bat of your eyelashes and a coy smile.
And he was tightly coiled around your finger like a snake, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite remember just when it had happened, but Bakugou knew that he was very much in love with you and he assumed he may always be in love with you until the end of time itself. 
But the world was cruel, even to the Gods. Bakugou may not remember when he had first laid eyes on you but he does remember the day he laid eyes on you when you were forced into a marriage arranged by the King. Enji had forced you into marrying his son, Touya – the God of Fire. Whilst that was surely a powerful title, Touya was neglectful to you and was often rageful when he discovered just what you had been up to. 
Touya was indeed in attendance tonight, and sat directly next to you with a distasteful look on his face as he glared at the other Gods who surrounded the table. His own chalices were empty consistently, and yet the effects of the rich wine hadn’t quite taken a toll on the God.
As soon as Bakugou had entered and seen Touya, he had wanted to turn around and leave immediately. But it was you who called out for him, much to the annoyance of your husband who grunted at you standing up hastily, leaning against the table and calling his name.
He could never resist the way you said his name, nor could he ignore the way you plead for him. 
So that’s how he had ended up brooding on his own, overseeing the event taking place whilst lamenting on how he could be working on war plans.
“And tell me, are you still meddling with the mortals?” Enji’s voice was naturally louder than the rest, demanding attention and he always got it. Everyone turned to look at Enji before they all settled their eyes on who was on the receiving end of such a question; you.
Not many people recognised anger in someone's eyes; a burning desire to turn to violence but Bakugou did. He lived off of that feeling, that desire to destroy was something that burned deep in his stomach daily. And he could see it in your eyes when you turned your gaze away from the mirror sitting in front of you.
“And do tell me, dear Father, are you still tricking women into giving you illegitimate children?”
There were a couple of gasps and a muffled snort of laughter from someone further down the table which you assume came from Natsuo. Everyone waited to see just how Enji would react, to see if he would bring down the weight of the world on you with just a flick of his wrist or if perhaps you’d be the one to strike first. 
Bakugou felt his muscles tense, shifting into a prime position to protect you, if it came to that. His eyes were locked directly on Enji. He watched as the wave of anger contorted his face, his scar unsightly in the light that filtered through the open windows and made him look more like his exiled brother than anything. 
“Perhaps it’d be wise for us to calm ourselves before another war is afoot,” Hawks spoke from his own seat, eyes shifting uncomfortably between the other Gods before settling finally on you. The God of Speed silently communicates with you to back down from a fight that surely will turn out ugly, Bakugou is of two minds when he practically sees the fire inside of you burn brighter. He wishes to see the wounds you’d inflict on Enji if you were to truly speak your mind, but he fears what is to come of it.
But it seems you have made up your own mind, and you rise from your seat. You level Enji with one long stare before turning away, ignoring the protests of your husband. Bakugou knows he’s not the only one who watches you as you leave, the sheer fabric on your body leaves nothing to the imagination yet you always hold yourself with a sense of dignity. 
The laughter and talking resume shortly after your departure, and no one is aware of when Bakugou slips out of the room in pursuit of you. Except for Touya, whose hand curls into a fist against his lap and pulls the scars taut until they threaten to rip. 
He traverses the long halls as if they were his own; he had spent many years in the place that the King calls his home, often talking of war plans. The red cloak he wears billows in his large strides, and the metal armour on his shoulders and shins clink loudly. He knows exactly where you would’ve wandered to, you always had a habit of returning to the one place where you felt in tune with nature.
Bakugou turns numerous corners until he’s met with the archway that leads out into the hidden garden. One would consider it overgrown with flowers and greenery, ivy clings to the cracked marble arch that Bakugou ducks under to avoid hitting his head. He follows the obscured path just as he had many times before, careful steps to avoid the thorn bushes that lay in wait for their next victim. 
He follows the sound of running water until he comes to a stop. There you are. Sat amongst the bed of flowers beside the running waterfall that falls off the side of Mount Olympus. Your back is to him, yet he knows you well enough to know that you’re very aware someone is watching you. 
Your hands still on the flowers you had been chaining together, though you don’t turn to face him just yet. You remain in place whilst he approaches slowly – like he was approaching a wild animal.
“Have you come to give me a lecture on why I shouldn’t start wars without consulting you first?” You speak finally, and Bakugou recognises the tone in your voice. You’re exhausted. 
“It had crossed my mind.” He says simply, settling down into the spot next to you which earns him a glare when he crushes one of the roses with the heel of his foot as he stretches his legs out. He shifts the iconic helmet that he often wears off to the side, the red feathered strip blowing softly in the wind. 
“Then tell me, my love, why have you followed me? You know that it’ll only anger him further.” One would think you were referring to Enji as him, but Bakugou knows you’re speaking about Touya. 
“I’ll show him the true meaning of anger, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or me.”
You hum in response to his words, not entirely believing him yet he doesn’t feel hurt that you don’t jump to his side in agreement. 
“Answer my question, Katsuki. Why did you follow me out here?” 
“Why did you return to our spot?” He always did this, answered you with a question until you huffed in annoyance and turned to look at him. He knew you could see the way his eyes lit up with your attention finally on him, and he bathes in the way you smile so delicately at him. 
“Because I knew you’d come. You always come.” 
His fingers brush along your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before the same fingers that have murdered thousands of men brush down along your jaw. He takes the time to admire your beauty, much to your delight, he traces the hollow of your throat with his thumb when his hand hooks around the back of your neck.
“I will always find you, my love.” Bakugou breathes the words simply before he’s surging forward to press his lips to your own. The feeling of butterflies exploding in his stomach, an odd feeling when he’s so used to the eternal lust for violence that boils his blood. 
His lips move in time with your own, a dance between the two of you that had been practised for hundreds of years. You lean further into him, your hands brushing against the golden skin of his chest and the strap that holds his armour and clock in place. His own hand curls further against the back of your neck, holding you in place as he has his fill of you. The taste of the wine on your lips is still present, and even more so on your tongue. It has him dizzy with the sweetness of it, the way it blends so perfectly with the natural essence that oozes from you. You always had a talent for stuffing his head with soft cotton and filling every one of his senses with you.
You were like the sweetest fruit he had ever tasted, perhaps it made you sweeter that you were considered forbidden and he couldn’t help but sink his teeth further into you.
You all but moan when he does in fact bite the plumpness of your bottom lip, and it’s enough to surge him on. He’s laying you in the bed of flowers, your hair sprawling out behind you in a way that even the most talented of artists would only be able to capture just a fraction of your beauty. 
His body is huge over your own, caging you in from the outside world and capturing you in the world the two of you had built for each other. You both had always felt so enamoured with one another, true soulmates you had once said. He can’t deny the fact that you were very much correct with that comment, his soul had always been tied to your own from the moment you had first met him. 
Bakugou is the one to break first from the kiss (as always), yet he doesn’t move far. His lips still brush against your own when he pants, leaning onto one forearm beside your head whilst the other freely explores along your throat, down along your collar bones before he lays a hand over your breasts.
The sheer material doesn’t do much to protect you from his feel, his callouses catch on the silky material as he brushes the tip of his finger over your budding nipples. He can feel the way your heart hammers away beneath your skin like a tiny hummingbird, you’re excited he knows but this type of excitement was adrenaline induced. It was intoxicating. 
“You’re as beautiful as ever,” and the way he breathes your name is unlike any of the followers who say your name in prayer, it’s invigorating that you can get a man of destruction and bloodlust to whisper your name in such a tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of your beauty.”
“And I’ll never tire of yours,” your fingers this time brush along his jaw, touching the scars that show just how dedicated he is to his role as the God of War. You follow along his jaw, his cheekbones and the crooked bump of his nose before you trace over his eyebrows with your thumbs. “I could admire you for all of eternity, and never grow bored of your comeliness.”
Bakugou chuckles, quiet yet you feel the rumble of it when your hand presses to the side of his neck. “You speak too much.” 
“Then perhaps you should change that.”
And he just grunts in return, before he’s diving back in to kiss you. This time with renewed vigour, a need to swallow you whole and devour the love you pour for him and only him. His fingers move to trace over your body once again, following invisible lines he had mapped out over the years of exploring your body so freely. It’s like second nature for him to drag his fingers over the fullness of your breasts before they dip down along your waist, your hips and across your stomach.
All the whilst you writhe beneath him, always one to submit to the lust first. Bakugou however wasn’t far behind you, his head span with the heavy scent that filled the air. Sweet like the richest of apples, delicate like the pink and white flowers that bend beneath the weight of your bodies tangling together. Yet there was always a tang underlying beneath the sweetness of it all, one that Bakugou had come to realise years ago was your arousal. So pure and so very intoxicating, it drove him forward once again.
Your legs all but part for him when he pushes forward, your knees bending to press into his sides whilst his hips settle against your own. He’s unsurprised to be met with the warmth, and wetness, that lies between your legs. You had never been one to adorn material that restricted you in ways, and he is thankful to have attended in his full attire for the party. His Pteruges does nothing to stop you from feeling just how hard he was already.
Bakugou continues to dominate the situation, just as he does with any task. Your hands paw uselessly at the metallic belt holding his pteruges in place, whilst your calves brush against the bareness of his thick thighs. He chuckles against your mouth, breathing in for the first time in what feels like an eternity. His eyes crack open just enough to see the look on your face; needy and wanting.
“Anyone could find us here.” Yet Bakugou makes no move to leave, his hips roll against your own to elicit the most beautiful of sounds from your throat.
“That’s never stopped us before, I need you Katsuki–.. Please.” You whine, finally getting your fingers to hook against the metal before it falls loose between the two of you. All he can do is smirk down at you, using his free hand to push the skirt-like attire down his thighs before kicking it off to the side to join his helmet.
Then he sits up on his knees, watching as your eyes immediately drop to stare unashamedly at his length. It droops against his thigh, thick and leaking precum profusely. He makes a show of unbuckling the large leather strap across his chest, shouldering off the heavy shoulder pads before his cloak flutters down with it. 
Bakugou remains on his knees as he watches you draw the sheer material covering your shoulders down until it falls apart around you, falling behind you like a sheet for the both of you to lay on. You’ve always been open to displaying your body before the God of War, dragging your fingers along your own breasts to toy with your nipples before you grow bored and move further down. 
Bakugou can’t draw his eyes away, following the invisible lines you trace down… and down… until they rest between the apex of your thighs. You spread yourself lewdly, uncaring for the squelch that tells him just how aroused you are at this very moment. It has him groaning deep in the back of his throat, his blood boiling just like it did before a fight. You’re another thing he must conquer, put you back in your place beneath him.
“You’ll drive me to madness,” Bakugou whispers, not intending for you to hear but you apparently do. You smile, yet you do not reply, clearly determined now to see just how quickly you can drive the man known for his courage and valour into the depths of chaos. 
Your fingers dance between your legs for a moment, brushing up and down along your soaked lips before they swirl and circle against your clit. The level of just how wet you are helps with the easy glide, easing you further into your delirious state of lust. 
Bakugou feels like he’s bewitched, eyes unable to blink away from the sight of you toying with yourself. It was nothing new, he had in the past made you masturbate in front of him for his own enjoyment. It was something that filled his chest with a sense of power, that you were doing all of this for him — it made him greedy for more.
“But perhaps madness would not be so bad, if you were by my side.” 
“I will forever be by your side, my sweetness.”
Sweetness – a name only you could use on a God like Bakugou Katsuki. Only you could call him something so gentle when he had witnessed enough bloodshed and war to fill four lifetimes. Only you could make the otherwise stoic man smile, and crumble like the weakest defences. His heart thunders in his chest when he dives back down into your space, the warmth of his bare chest against yours is all-consuming. 
He feels himself lose himself to the rhythm of your bodies, his hips rolling against your own once again but this time his cock is free. It catches against your lightly sensitive clit, drawing out a breathy sigh from between your bitten lips.
“Give yourself to me,” you mumble against his lips, your fingers moving from their previous position to thread themselves through his golden wheat-coloured hair, holding softly at the roots to keep his face just in front of yours. “All of you. I want all of you.” 
“Then you shall have me.” 
His lips press into yours as an effort to stop the volume of your voice when he breeches you with the thick head of his cock, whilst he would’ve loved to divulge in foreplay and excite you further he knows it’s too much of a risk to spend that much time alone with you. He already suspects soon someone will come seeking you, and that will only lead to more unfortunate events unfolding.
You don’t protest however to the way he splits you in half, your thighs fall apart further to accommodate him the best you can despite the sharp pain that fills your pelvis. Bakugou openly groans against your panting mouth, a low rumble that sounds like he’s in great pain when he finally bottoms out in you. 
It had been far too long since he had last fucked you. You had been sent away from Mount Olympus more and more often until it was once in a blue moon that he’d lay eyes on you. His soul yearned for you every single day, and the only way he had been coping with that loneliness was to become more ruthless with the men he commanded and the mortals who worshipped him. 
The two of you remain there, encapsulated in the little world the two of you build for each other when you come together. His forearms lay on either side of your head, his thumbs brushing delicately against your temples whilst he admires your features so close. Your own hand plays gently with the hairs at the nape of his neck, whilst the other strokes along the broad expanse of his scar-ridden shoulders.
“I’m in love with you,” it’s you who whispers it, and he wonders if you plucked that thought directly from his brain. It has him smiling once again, a rare occasion to happen so often in quick succession.
Bakugou leans down the short distance, his thumbs brushing into your hairline before he presses his lips to yours in a short yet fulfilling kiss, “I know.”
He so desperately wishes to declare his love for you but it would be no different to declaring war. It hurts his heart to not tell you just how much he loves you, yet he knows you understand this much. You don’t frown or get upset with his choice of words, not when he lays another kiss that lingers against your forehead before his hips roll once again.
It’s a slow pace at the start, sensual and it’s enough to convey his true feelings for you. A man who could crush another man’s skull in his bare hand holds you with such a delicate embrace, his hips don’t hammer into your own with the strength you know he harbours. He always took his time at the start, savouring the tightness of your walls when you clench around him as the tuft of the hair nestled just above his cock brushes against your clit.
He continues with this pace until one of his hands wanders down along your body again, retracing the same path until he finds your thigh. He takes a gentle hold of it, and the largeness of his hand squeezes as much of your thigh as he can before he’s hooking the same thigh over his forearm. 
It’s the only warning you get before he’s leaning back from you, it leaves him open to your eyes as you watch his muscles work with the new pace he sets. It’s more aggressive, more like the God of War that you know. It has your tits bouncing harshly with each rut of his hips, the slapping of skin against skin is loud in the otherwise silent garden.
His golden skin glistens in the sunlight, the sweat that gathers in the hollow of his throat expands all the way down to his adonis’ belt. His biceps bulge and tense when he rolls his head back in ecstasy, exposing the bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallows hard before his lips part in the most beautiful of moans. 
It wasn’t often he was so vocal in his pleasure, only reserving that right for you. It doesn’t go unnoticed either, you squeeze around him deliciously to pull another note from his throat that sounds a little more strangled. You giggle beneath him, only to be cut off by a particularly harsh slam of his hips against yours. The tip of his cock bullies its way through your walls, ramming against that one spot that only he seems to be able to reach. 
“You dare laugh at me?” He bares his teeth, quite the vision of the fearless God yet he shows no true malice behind his words. If you were to put a word to it, you’d say he was being playful.
“Never,” you manage to breathe between your moans, eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay open as you watch the man above you work as hard as he can to push you closer and closer to completion. “I-I would…” you trail off, and this time it’s Bakugou who laughs at you but it’s broken into a low groan. 
“Hah, drunk off of my cock already, my love?” He’s always been crude with his words, it makes your stomach do flips along with the added term of endearment. “How long has it been since you were treated like the Goddess you are?”
His words sting, unintentionally digging into wounds that grow old, tearing them apart for his prying eyes. You meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowing to show just how much his words hurt – the truth had always hurt the most.
“Too long,” you moan when he hoists your hips up just a little higher, both of your legs now wrapped around his waist whilst his hands grip harshly at your hips. He fucks into you harder at this angle, impossibly reaching deeper and deeper into you until you swear he’s going to touch your very soul; though perhaps that is his goal.
Bakugou doesn’t offer a reply, but rather a grunt. His thumb rolls down over your stomach before he reaches your clit, and he plays with it cruelly. The pressure is harsh, and he’s unrelenting in the speed at which he toys with you. He only has one thing on his mind right now, and that is to make you cum for him in a way only he can make you cum. 
“Give it to me,” he grits his teeth, jaw working as he tries to fend off the urge to fill you with his cum. “Cum for me.” 
He commands you, and you wordlessly obey. It feels like you’re freefalling from the top of the mountain you’re all perched upon, your head falls back into the plush bed of flowers and your mouth opens up in a scream of pleasure. Your eyes roll back until you see nothing but white, and Bakugou doesn’t let up in the way he’s fucking you.
He fucks you harder in fact, inflicting a tingling-like pain between your thighs. He not only works you through your orgasm but forces you right into a more intense one, it has your legs tensing and shaking. Your hands curl uselessly into the grass beside your head, tugging at your hair when you moan his name loudly. Perhaps he should’ve worried about how loud you were becoming, but a deep part inside of him wanted everyone to know just who you were devoted to. 
His thumb is replaced by two fingers, he swipes aggressively against your clit until you’re struggling to catch your breath. Your chest expands with the effort, whilst your knees try to crush into his sides fruitlessly. Bakugou has never shied away from the fact you were more of a generous lover when it came to orgasms, he beamed with pride whenever you blessed him with one such as this. He’s uncaring for the way your juices squirt against his pelvis and drips down his muscled thighs, if anything it encourages him to fuck more out of you.
“That’s it, such a good girl.” He praises effortlessly, fucking you through the intensity of your orgasm until his hips roll to a gentle stop. His hands that were once in a vice grip on your waist gently massage against your thighs, soothing the tensed muscles until you finally relax as best you can in the position he still holds you in. 
He lowers you carefully down until you’re flat again on the floor, and his hands effortlessly roll you over onto your stomach. Those same hands smooth over the expanse of your back, pressing into your lower back to ease the ache he knows often builds there whenever he bends your body to his will. 
Bakugou carefully raises your hips once again, positioning himself over you and you don’t protest when he pushes himself back inside of you. You rest your head on folded arms, angling your head just so that you can see over your shoulder at the mountain of a man who fucks into you slowly once again. He bends easily at the waist, pressing a delicate kiss to your shoulder.
“I’m not done with you yet,” is all he offers before he’s fucking into you again in earnest. You moan into the crook of your arm, eyes still narrowed in his direction to watch the way his mouth falls open and his eyebrows crumple together. The angle he holds your body in is sinful – your thighs squeeze together to make it impossibly tighter around the thickness of his cock. 
In this position, with your hips raised and head in the flowers, Bakugou can’t help but feel the rush of power that fills his body. To have such a powerful Goddess such as yourself bending under just a flat palm to your spine is driving him to fuck into you hard. Too hard perhaps, as he knows he’ll be leaving bruises on the back of your thighs and ass by the time he’s done. But he can’t help himself, this need to cover you in marks – his marks – was growing to be too much. 
You were his, and only his. He didn’t care what the fuck Enji nor Touya said. You were designed to be with him, you were his opposite, his other half. He’d die before he gave up on you. He’d do anything to ensure you were his, forever.
The idea hits him in the gut like a spear, it makes him grunt deep in his chest and fingers flex against the fat of your hips before he squeezes hard. He knows of one way he could secure you to him for the rest of your lives. 
“I should fuck a child into you.” He groans, the words pour from his mouth untapered whilst his mind runs haywire on the idea of you being round with his child – a child born from two Gods such as yourselves surely would be enough to kick Enji from his throne. “A son. Fit for the throne.” 
You watch him over your shoulder, and he meets your gaze easily. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration for you, you know a child would definitely bring the two of you together forever. The idea alone has you nearly crushing him between your thighs, enough to cause him to grunt and come to a stop buried to the hilt.
“I take that as a yes, my love?” 
“Yes, Katsuki. Please.” You plead, and the ash-blonde God doesn’t have to be told twice.
He fucks you now with a new purpose, to breed you. His hips slap against the roundness of your ass, his fingers reaching to grasp and grope at you. Bakugou is unashamed in the way he marvels at your body, pulling your cheeks apart with his hands to watch the way your pussy swallows him whole despite the size of him.
His balls ache with the need to cum, he yearns for it every single time he’s with you. Yet he was never granted permission to do so; given you were the Goddess of Reproduction, he knew his seed would take to you – which would’ve caused many problems in the past. But now, he’s uncaring for the problems that may arise. He knows he would wage a thousand-year war for you as long as it meant he got to call you his. 
“Katsuki, cum for me, my love.” You moan, panting hotly into your arm in a futile attempt to muffle your whining. 
Bakugou has always been unable to ignore your pleas.
He cums, and hard. His hips stutter at first, fingers curling harshly against the skin of your ass. His hips rut down into your own, hard enough to make you yelp and bite at your arm. You can feel the way his cock jumps and throbs in the depths of your walls, the white seed he spills is molten hot, just like the fire that courses through his blood. 
Bakugou doesn’t stop the roll of his hips until he’s truly spent, both of his hands come to slam into the ground on either side of your head. His panting breath brushes against the sticky sweat on your bare shoulder before he lays kiss after kiss on you. 
“I love you.” He whispers against your ear, pressing his nose into your hair just enough to smell the delicate soaps you use to bathe in. 
“And I love you, more than anything.” You reply just as easily, turning just enough to let his lips brush against your own. The kiss you have now is just as it was at the start; it’s filled with adoring love and underlying longing.
He slips from you easily, but not without hoisting your hips up once again just enough to ensure none of his cum leaks from you. You laugh, but don’t stop him. 
“You truly wish to have a child with me?” You ask once he lays down in the grass next to you, tugging his red cloak from somewhere to the side over the naked expanse of his lower half. 
“Have I ever lied about something I want? Of course I want this.” 
You hum in response to his words, eyes finally fluttering shut to bask in the warmth of the sun and the tranquil feeling that slowly settles over the two of you. Bakugou continues to lay next to you, an arm behind his head whilst his free hand strokes through your hair to play with the various flowers embedded there.
“Then I hope you’re ready for everything that comes with a child.” You smile when Bakugou laughs, opening an eye to look at how he practically glows in the sun. 
“Woman. I have commanded armies of thousands of men, I have killed Gods with my bare hands. You think a child would bring down the almighty God of War?” 
“Maybe that’s your weakness.” 
“Madness,” he rolls over onto his side, brushing away the hair that’s fallen into your eyes before he kisses your eyebrow gently. “You are my weakness, my love.”
And all the whilst, neither of you is privy to the set of burning blue eyes that watch from the archway of the door. And neither of you are aware that Touya leaves to talk to his father – but not to demand you be humiliated for your adultery but rather for a divorce.
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drcranessweetestdoe · 3 months
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hi, how are u? i have an idea for a smutty fic...
OK, hear me out:
dom!stepdad!cillian with sub!stepdaughter!reader who punishes her for sneaking out to go to a party
hii, I’m good! thank u for requesting I love this idea xx
Bad, bad bunny
warning: minors dni! stepcest, dom!sub themes, mentions of cheating, power play, daddy kink, age gap, dub-con (but not really? reader is into it), dumbificaton, Cillian only starts lusting after her once she turns 18!
pairing: dom!stepfather Cillian Murphy x sub!stepdaughter Reader
summary: Y/N sneaks out for a party, and her stepfather, Cillian, makes sure it never happens again
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She was always such a good girl. Always obedient, always listening to him without talking back. Maybe that’s why he felt so drawn to her.
Her mother, Mrs.(Y/L/N), and Cillian married when (Y/N) was only 14, just a clueless girl back then. Everything was lovely in the beginning, her mother acted nice and lovey dovey until he married her. Cillian regretted it the second he slid the ring onto her finger, when he saw that certain look in her eyes. But, at least it made Cillian promise something to himself, he will keep little (Y/N) safe and innocent. He won’t let her become the spiteful whore her mother was. He knew she was cheating on him and their marriage, going out late in the night, taking advantage of the fact that he was working so much. There were times when she was out for days, and then she eventually stopped coming home, she sneaked in when her husband and her daughter were asleep, took her stuff and fled right out of their lives.
Cillian was more relieved than anything. He filed in for a divorce and also filed for custody, he wasn’t going to leave the poor 15 year old girl on her own. He moved them away, bought a beautiful house in Dublin. It had a big garden, a pool, even a personal library. He loved seeing that look in his stepdaughter’s eyes, when her big eyes sparkled with adoration.
He made sure to spoil her, give her anything she asked for. Thankfully, she never became a brat, she was always so grateful for him and the pretty things she enjoyed.
As the years went by, Cillian watched the girl grow into a gorgeous little thing. He noticed how she started filling in her clothes, how they became tighter on her body, and it excited him. He always found her beautiful, but in a way a father would find his child beautiful. Now, he felt arousal pool in his stomach when he looked at her, his lovely bunny. When he watched her swim around the pool, while he was making dinner for them, he would really see how her body evolved. Perky breasts nearly spilling out of her white bikini, her nipples would harden up from the water and they poked through the light fabric. Her hips widened, he found himself wanting to grip on them as well as on her round butt.
He loved the girlish style she developed, her wardrobe contained lots of pink, lace and silk. It brought a sense of pride knowing that it was all bought with his money, her clothes, her room, basically anything she touched. She was all his. She cared for him as much as he cared for her, such a sweet girl. She did well in school, she always ran into his arms with a giggle when she got her usual good marks.
Everything was perfect. Her 19th birthday went by and he found himself more attracted to her than ever. One night, he was on his way to give her usual good night kiss, but he was confused when he opened the door to an empty room. He was sure she would be sleeping already, given the fact that he stayed up quite late tonight. Her bed was made, her pyjamas folded up beside her pillow. She wasn’t in her bathroom, however he could smell her perfume.
His body filled with rage when he noticed her window open. She sneaked out, his dear bunny sneaked out. For good knows what. He sat on her bed in disbelief, he was very angry with her. Until, he looked sideway, he saw an pair of her panties, hanging from the side. He squatted beside it and snatched the used lace. Back on her bed, he thumbed the area where her intimate parts rested against, he felt the sticky substance. He felt his cock stir in his underwear when he felt her sweet scent fill up the room. That is when the idea hit him, and a wicked smirk fell upon his lips. He would make sure that his little bunny never disobeys him again.
He waited her for her to come home, he sat on her vanity chair with the lights turned off. It wasn’t even an hour before he heard her noises outside, he smirked proudly. He saw her sneak in the window again and he waited for her to turn her lights on and he spoke up when she did.
“Did you enjoy yourself, bunny?” He stood up and made his way to her. Her eyes were wide and her lips were open. He couldn’t deny, she looked stunning. Her pink dress hugged her figure, her soft hair adorned a matching pink ribbon, as it always did. He couldn’t stop thinking about what was under her dress.
“I-I…”
“Sit down on the bed, and explain what you were doing.” She did as she was told, with her gaze planted on her lap.
“I was going to a party. I’m sorry.” He felt his anger rise within him again.
“Look at me.” He said sternly. He was glad to know that she was ashamed and that she felt bad for playing him like that. “Was it worth it?”
“No… I know I shouldn’t have. I just…” Tears began to form in her eyes. He came closer and stood infront of her, making her look up at him with those pretty doe eyes. He signalled her to continue. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. But I didn’t like it! All I could think about was how much better it would be if I was here with you, I was only there for half an hour.” His eyes softened at this, his sweet girl was so eager to come back home to him, he caressed her soft cheek with one hand.
“Did you drink?” She shook her head. “Did you take anything from anyone?” She did it again, then he questioned what he feared the most. “Did you do anything with boys?” He was relieved when yet again, she motioned ‘no’ with her head. “Good.”
He felt her nuzzle her cheek into his palm, but suddenly he gripped her face harshly. “Your actions have consequences. You need to be punished, so in the future you will behave like the good girl I know you are.” He pulled her up by her hair and his dick throbbed when she whined. He left her standing there dumbly, while he took a seat on her bed. “Strip.”
Her eyes widened, she had some mascara marks at her waterline already, she will be a mess by the time he is finished with her.
“W-What?”
“Dumb little girl. Strip for daddy, show him what you have under the dress he bought for his little princess.” The word ‘daddy’ seemed to have woken something in her, her eyes got a desperate look in them and she started to follow his orders.
She let the dress fall off her frame, now she stood in front of him in lingerie. He knew she was innocent, he always made sure to shoo the boys away from her. She bought lacy underwear simply because she found it pretty, he did too, but only on her. How he wanted to mark up her untouched skin. Touch it, kiss it, suck it, bruise it.
He motioned her to come over with two fingers. When she stopped in front of him, he made sure to take a moment and be delicate with her. He let his hands wander across her hips and waist, a shiver ran up her spine at his warm touch. “Across my lap, bunny.”
She kneeled beside his thighs, but he grabbed her hair tightly when she was about to lay down. Instead of a whine, she let out a moan, she felt the pain transform into arousal and go right to her cunt. He pulled her face close to his, the slut in his arms closed her eyes and sighed at the scent of his cologne, he smelled like… a man, her man. His scent mingled with her sweet one in the air, the perfect mix of two opposites. He whispered into her ear. “I expect to be answered. And I expect you to be thankful that your daddy is trying so hard to keep you in line, little doe.”
“Yes, daddy, I’m sorry. Thank you for being so good to me.” With the hand that wasn’t used to hold herself up, she caressed his neck and smiled in a sweet manner.
“Good girl.” He helped her get comfortable across his lap, and continued caressing her skin. He kneaded her round ass and gave it a light slap to test the waters. He knew she could feel his erection against her tummy, he wanted her to know how much he desired her. The ribbon was slipped out of her hair and around her wrist. “You will count for me, and thank me for every spank.”
She wasn’t expecting the harsh slap that he did across her ass, she moaned loudly and somehow whimpered out. “One, thank you, daddy.”
Smack! “T-Two. Thank you.” Smack! “Three. Thank you da-“ SMACK! “DA—“ SMACK!
He kept striking the red skin of her ass, every spank more painful than the other. She stopped counting, she just let her face mush against her floral sheet and she whimpered. Tears mixed with mascara were running down her cheeks, and there was a little pool of drool on the fabric, where her mouth was dropped open.
Despite her behaviour, he felt the heat against his palm radiating from her warm pussy. He suddenly stopped, her whiny sounds were filling up the room. “Did you learn your lesson, bunny?” She just nodded into the sheet, so he gripped the reddest area of her butt, hard. “Pardon? I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, daddy! I learned my lesson. I won’t do it again, I won’t do anything bad again. I’m sorry.” She looked back at him with a pleading look in her teary eyes. God, he thought she looked absolutely beautiful, so messy and fucked out. He couldn’t wait to see her like that on his cock, but he will have to wait for that, she deserved to be treated gently.
“Good girl. My good little bunny.” He undid the ribbon around her wrists and spun her around in his arms. She hissed when her butt touched his thigh but relaxed the second he wrapped her in his arms. “There, there. You did so good, little doe, you deserve a treat now.”
He slowly slipped his hand down to her cunt, and clicked his tongue when he felt her wetness. He massaged her entrance for a hot second before bringing her slick up to her little nub. “Eager, are we?” She was whining when his fingers started to do little circles on her clit. Her pretty face was hidden in his neck and her fingers wrapped themselves in his hair. Her leg twitched when he sped up his movements.
“Oh- Daddy!”
“I know, little one.” She came on his finger with a whiny moan and then relaxed in his arms. He saw how she was sleepy and exhausted. He stood up, carrying her in bridal style and he made his way to her bathroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up for bed. Daddy loves you so much, bunny, he just wants to keep you safe.” He whispered
She gave him one of her sweet smiles and she snuggled more into him.
“I love you too, daddy.”
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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Guardian angel pt.2? I'm already addicted to and love your stuff. Thx! :3
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Guardian Angel
Part 2/3 Part 3
A/N: Can anyone guess how I’m gonna end it?
Even if Adam wanted to bring (Name) to the light, which he didn’t, the task would prove nearly impossible anyway. Because Adam was coming to learn that (Name) was quite the little sinner. In only one week, she exhibited each of the 7 Sins.
She got in a fight with her best friend and refused to apologize, even though it meant sacrificing their relationship. Pride.
She spent over a hundred dollars in one sitting online shopping for shit she didn’t need. Greed.
She spent ten minutes going through another girl’s social media page, making snide comments about her as she went. Envy.
She broke a lamp in a fit of rage over, well, Adam didn’t even know what her temper tantrum was about. Wrath.
She kicked Adam out so she could have some “Self Love Time” as she called it. Lust.
She was a glutton not of food, but of weed and alcohol, never satisifed unless she was not sober at least once during her day. Gluttony.
She would spend entire days rotting in her bed, neglecting all responsibilities. Sloth.
Long story short, Adam was pretty certain that were (Name) to die, she had herself a one way ticket down to Hell. The thought bothered Adam, and he realized that it really was up to him to make sure she got into Heaven.
“You’re sinful,” Adam blurted out one day while (Name) was listening to CPR by cupcakKe. (Name) paused the music. “It’s the song, isn’t it.”
“No… well, yes, but not just the song. I’ve seen you commit every single fucking one of the 7 Sins just this week. How do you expect to get into Heaven like that?”
“I don’t,” (Name) shrugged, going to unpause her music.
“You don’t care about going to Hell?” Adam was flabbergasted.
“Not particularly.”
“Well I’m your guardian angel, sweetie, so it’s my job to help you get into Heaven.”
“Really? Cause I don’t even know how you made it into Heaven. Their standards must be pretty low, I have a chance.”
“Oh eat shit,” Adam snapped, narrowing his eyes.
(Name) smirked.
“Have you heard of the Seven Heavenly Virtues?” Adam asked. (Name) looked bored. “I’ve heard of them… don’t know what they are.” “Well you’re going to do something that encompasses each one this week.”
And Lucifer be damned, Adam managed to get her to do something for every virtue.
She apologized to her best friend and they began to repair their relationship. Humility.
She gave a bunch of clothes she didn’t need to her younger cousin. Charity.
She left positive comments on that girl’s social media page. Kindness.
She did breathing exercises the next time she got angry instead of destroying her surroundings. Patience.
She stopped her copious amount of weed and alcohol consumption. Temperance.
She stayed on top of her responsibilities and began taking her job more seriously. Diligence.
Adam was proud of both her, and himself for getting her to do these things. Maybe she had a chance to get into Heaven yet.
“Why is it so important to you that I get into Heaven?” (Name) asked one night at dinner. Adam paused eating. “Uh, cause it’s my job, bitch.” (Name) rolled her eyes. “Yeah but you didn’t start doing your job until recently. What changed?”
“Maybe I never want to have to say goodbye.”
(Name) hadn’t been expecting such a confession. “You want me to go to Heaven… to be with you?”
Adam scowled, embarrassed. “No.”
They fell into awkward silence.
“For what it’s worth,” (Name) said. “I wouldn’t mind spending eternity with you.”
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robin374 · 3 months
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alastor x daughter reader angst If you do, you will be very happy. The reader does not know that he is his father and when he finds out, Alastora will be very angry. PLSSSS
ehem thanks <3
𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔢
ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 : Alastor x Reader, platonic
𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: Hola. I got too carried away sorry if it's too long. BRUH I JUST FINISHED AND I PASSED THE WORD LIMIT, let me just do a part 2 LMAO
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Back when you were alive, you were an orphan. You couldn't remeber who your parents were, but you were angry. You were angry at everything and everyone, if they didn't love you when you were born why didn't they kill you? Was it necessary to abandon you? You didn't want to meet them and start over again as a happy family like your friends at the orphanage dreamed. You wanted to meet them so you could make sure you never talked to them again. Then, when you died, you wandered around Hell. You didn't exactly have a house, you just strolled around the city, maybe even killing someone to let your rage out. For someone who had deer resemblace you were quite agressive, to be honest.
You had died young, in your 17th birth to be exact. You bumped into a group of drunk men, they were drunk enough to pick a fight against whoever crossed paths with them, and you happened to be there. You just didn't survive. You may had born crying knowing nothing about life, but you died with that youth rage and you blamed it on your unknown parents.
One day, you were sitting on the floor reading a book you stole time ago when someone stopped in front of you. You didn't lift your head, you just flicked your gaze to the black dressing shoes and red pants that the person was wearing. "What do you want." You didn't ask, you demanded. "I...I have been informed that you were alone and homeless. So, I've decided to give you a room at my hotel, The Hazbin Hotel!" It was a girl's voice, the Princess of Hell's voice. You recognized her from seeing her singing around the streets not long ago. "Why would I want to go there?" You asked closing the book and putting it inside your bag. "It's just a hotel with a porn star and a pathetic victorian snake. I would prefer to sleep next to a rat with rabies than that, so, thank you but no, thank you." You started to walk away from her, you didn't even want to see her face. You knew you just had been mean to Lucifer's daughter, but she didn't even seem like it. You scratched a spot near your antlers, since you became a demon you didn't manage to get used to them. Then, a shadow appeared out of nowhere and it transformed into a tall man, who smiled at you.
"Now, that's not the best way to talk to someone, sweetheart." He said, his voice was accompanied with a stereophonic effect, it sounded like the radio you used to have in your room when you were alive. "Do I know you?" You said as you straightened your back to look more challenging. He just laughed, which clearly offended you a bit. "You should."
How did he manage to smile for so long? You couldn't remeber the last time your lips drew a genuine smile on your face. You were always with a frown on your face, angry, furious. "You seem to be quite the rebel, aren't you?" He said and before he ruffled your hair you flinched away. "Don't touch me." You hissed. "Ooh the fawn is angry," he laughed causing you to frown even more. "Where is your mother? Did a hunter shoot her?" He smiled even more -if that was even possible- you clenched your teeth and your ears curved downwards, you were trying so hard to not to hit him right then and there, who did he think he was? "Okay, let's calm down. How about you come to my hotel, stay one night and then you decide if you want to stay or not?" The princess smiled, her smile was kinder. You scoffed, "if that means that you won't bother me anymore, alright." They started walking down the street with you, it was the first time you walked with someone by your side. You expected it to be a silent walk but you were wrong, the blonde girl talked you about how she planned to redeem a lot of demons when she got the proof that they were able to do it.
While you were walking up the hill that led to the hotel, your gaze fell on the radio tower coming out of one side. You didn't pay attention to the strange Zeppelin or the huge letters that spelled 'Hazbin Hotel' you just looked at the radio tower. You heard a radio static near you, you didn't pay attention to it though, thinking that it was the coming for the tower. Once you were inside, you were greeted with more people that you thought. Of course, the porn star Angel Dust was there and wasted no time in flirting with you not even knowing you gender. "Oh you're the quiet type? Let me see what that mouth does, pretty please." He pouted and you raised your brow. If that was what he wanted, he would get it. "Get the fuck away from me." You said, shoving him away. Then, you heard a deep chuckle and you turned to your side, you noticed a black cat with wings laughing at the white spider. He had a bottle in his hand. Charlie, made you greet everyone there, but her brows frowned in confused way the moment she didn't find someone called Nifty.
You were about to walk towards the bar when you hit something with your foot. You heard a high pitched voice laughing and telling you to hit her again. You stepped back from the small woman with a scared face and your ears curved downwards. "Hi! I'm Nifty, I clean." She quickly climbed up your body and stopped at your face, her big eye looking intensely at you, you swore she could read your mind. "You are very young to be dead, what happened to you? Oh! What's your name?" She shook you, she was surprinsingly strong considering her small body. "Tell me everything." She growled. "My name's Y/N." You said, and ignored again the radio static, had it been sounding this whole time?
After greeting everyone, you told Charlie that you wanted to rest and she showed you your room. You closed the door and let your body fall in the bed. Even though you didn't want to admit it, you had the feeling that this couldn't be as bad as you thought. It had an old-fashioned aura that made you feel at home, somehow. You hadn't felt like this for a long time, you were always running away from demons that wanted to kill you, harass you, make a deal with you... You were at peace here.
PART 2 HERE
I AM SO SORRY
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Teenage Dirtbag
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader
Summary: Ingrid just doesn't understand you
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Mapi had never met you before.
She's met the rest of the Engen family. She's met the family pets. But you'd never been around she visited with Ingrid, like your family had put you as far away as possible when she met them.
Like you were something to be ashamed of.
It's a bit of a bad first impression to make when you're shipped from your boarding school, back home and then straight over to Spain to live with her and Ingrid.
She doesn't even get to introduce herself before Ingrid's laying into you.
"Again?" She demands as soon as you're safely in the back seat of the car," Expelled...again?"
"It's not a big deal," You mutter, slouching in your seat and pulling your hood over your head.
"Not a big deal...Not a big deal?! You've been kicked out of school! You've been kicked out of the house! Oh, but it's not a big deal?!"
Mapi's never seen Ingrid so angry before but you're taking it like a champ, looking out the window and generally ignoring your sister even as she snaps at you.
"Are you done?" You ask in the most bored tone you can manage.
Ingrid takes a breath. "Ye-" She catches sight of you in the rear view mirror and whips around to face you. "Is that a hickey?!"
"Do we have to do this?" You groan," You ask me if I've got a hickey. I give you an answer you don't like. You yell. Can we just skip to the bit after you scold me?"
Ingrid's practically bubbling in rage sitting in the passenger seat and Mapi's left scrambling trying to diffuse the tension.
"So..." She says eventually," You like football?" It's a weak redirection but it gets an amused scoff out of Ingrid as she rolls her eyes.
"I'm not into exercising willingly," Is your answer," It's alright from a distance. Even better when a girl's doing it."
Ingrid groans louder now and swats at your knees but it's teasing and it's like all of her anger from earlier has melted away. "Don't," She says warningly though a hint of amusement is still present in her voice," There'll be none of that here. You're here to focus and to study and to better your grades."
You send her a lopsided smile. "How am I supposed to improve perfection?"
It's that evening after you've retreated to your room that Ingrid is left in a slump over your grades and your truancy records.
"I don't get it," She says to Mapi," She misses almost every class but she has perfect marks. It's like she doesn't even have to try."
Mapi shrugs. "Maybe she doesn't," Is her response," Some people just get school better than others. To be honest, if it's this easy then that's probably why she never turns up."
"And the hickies?"
"She's hormonal?" Mapi doesn't really have an answer to that as she's handed your transcript.
"And this?"
Ingrid slides Mapi a picture. It's of one of this out buildings that every school has that they swear is temporary but never go unused.
"That's..."
Mapi stares at the side of the building. She stares at the colours on the wall, at the way they weave expertly in and out of each other. She stares at the shading and the light.
"I know," Ingrid says, her face all scrunched up and Mapi gets the idea that they're not on the same page.
"It's brilliant."
"It's disrespectful."
They both spoke at the same time. They exchange a confused look with each other before turning their gazes back to study the picture.
It's clearly spray paint, the mural that you've done on the side of one of your school buildings. Usually, Mapi would see tags on railway lines out of spray paint. But, somehow, your mural is hyper realistic (Mapi would even go so far as to say photorealistic).
It's...Well Mapi doesn't quite have the words to explain it.
"I'd love to see what she could do with a pencil."
"Mapi!" Ingrid hisses," Don't encourage her!"
"No, no," Mapi backtracks quickly," I get it, totally. She shouldn't have done it there. It's wrong and it's bad but Ingrid! Look at it! People dream of having talent like that!"
For the entire night and the coming days after, Mapi thinks about the mural you did it on your school.
She ends up asking Ingrid for your Instagram during the lunch break at training. Ingrid gives it to her with a confused look.
"If you're going to use it to try and work out where this behaviour is coming from, it's useless," Ingrid says with a defeated sigh," I've already gone through it all."
That wasn't what Mapi was planning to do at all so she just offers Ingrid a little smile and a promise to see what she could find. To her disappointment, no more of your artwork has been posted on your main account.
She scrolls through your following list, all the way to the bottom, to find an account that she's positive is your secret one. Its username is a bunch of random letters followed by dot-art and its profile picture is the mural on the side of your school building.
Mapi feels like she's hit the jackpot as she scrolls through it (feeling pleased with herself when she notices a bunch of your school friends follow this account too so it must be you). You've got hundreds of posts up, detailing murals you've done around your hometown and your school. There's a few still life drawings and a huge oil paint piece on a massive canvas. There's an image of a drawing that's clearly done in pen on someone's arm.
It's photorealistic just like your spray paint piece and, if you were older, Mapi would probably beg you to be her tattoo artist.
When she and Ingrid get back to the house, you're napping at the kitchen table.
Ingrid swears under her breath, rousing you from your sleep. "I told you to do your school work," She says.
You shrug. "I did." You shove your notepad towards her. "It's not my fault that it's not difficult."
"You've done the bare minimum."
You shrug. "I'm not into doing more than I have to."
The tension in the air is practically electric as you both stare each other down.
"Lose the attitude," Ingrid says," I'm trying to help you here. Mum and Dad won't let you back home until you clean your act up."
You mutter something under your breath and Ingrid goes rigid.
"Don't say that!" She snaps," They want what's best for you! We want what's best for you!"
"They want what's best for them!" You snap back. In the few weeks that Mapi's known you, you're the most laidback teenager she's ever met. You've never once really bit back at Ingrid, no matter how hard she pushed you.
Ingrid's tough love had seemed to be working. You napped regularly, yes, but you got all of your schoolwork done. You don't come home with hickeys and no strange murals have appeared in Barcelona by your hands.
She must have hit a sore spot for you.
"You're smart," Ingrid says," You're so smart and I don't understand why you don't apply yourself more! If you worked properly, you could graduate early and be at university already!"
"There's nothing at university that interests me," You mutter," It's a waste of time."
"It's not a waste of time!" Ingrid retorts," What are you going to do when you finish school, huh? Do you even have a plan?!"
Mapi sees your eyes dart to where your sketchpad sits a few feet away. She can see the cogs turning in your head.
You stay silent.
Ingrid sighs, hands clenched into two shaking fists. "I love you," She says," But you need to get yourself together." She shoves your papers right back at you.
"I've already finished it!"
"You've done the bare minimum." She swipes your sketchbook off of the table. "Sit down. Do it properly."
"Give it back!"
Ingrid's tall and, even though she's your sister, she's still tall enough to hold your book over her head so you can't reach it. "You get it back when you do your work properly."
"Give it!"
"No!"
"Ingrid, hand it over!"
"Do your work!"
"Urgh! I hate you!"
"Well, too bad. Because I love you!"
You slump into the seat with a scream that makes Mapi's ears ring a bit but you grab your pen and start on your schoolwork again.
"Come on," Mapi says softly, drawing Ingrid into their bedroom and shutting the door.
Ingrid throws your sketchbook onto the bed and paces, pulling at her hair in frustration.
"What-What did she say?" Mapi asks, her mind playing that moment when Ingrid went stiff over and over again.
"She said that she wished Mum and Dad got rid of her when they had the chance...you know...when she was..."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Ingrid groans. "I-I just don't understand her! She's so smart! She has her pick of everywhere! Mum and Dad can get her into medical school! It's like she has no ambition!"
Mapi types into her phone. "Have you considered that, maybe, going to medical school and university isn't exactly for her? I mean, you went straight into football."
Ingrid sighs, the tension draining somewhat from her body. "Mapi...It's different. I had a passion for football even when I was younger. I practiced every day. I knew what I wanted."
"She practices something every day," Mapi replies," And she's so good at it. Honestly, Ingrid, it's a little annoying that you and your family haven't noticed."
She turns her phone around, to a post on your secret Instagram account. It's tagged as a city a few hours away from your old boarding school.
On the side of a crumbling house is a spray paint mural of Norway's women's team. It's got everyone on it, photorealistic like all of your other murals. Ingrid's in the middle though, beaming a smile that you can see reaches her eyes.
"What?" The real Ingrid asks, brow furrowed.
"Your sister did that," Mapi says," She's done a lot of them." She grabs your sketchbook and flicks though it. You'd shown her all of your pieces a few days ago when she asked to see them. "Ingrid, she's so good."
Ingrid flips through your book. There's pencil drawings in there. There's watercolour and acrylic and oil. There's a pastel study of your cat back home and an inked version of Bagheera. There's a stunning piece in charcoal of you and Ingrid when you were younger.
Her fingers hover over your squishy baby cheeks, like she could reach into the picture and touch them.
The next few pages have pictures of your own arm with tattoo designs wrapping around them.
"Ingrid, she's so talented," Mapi says," And, yeah, maybe she shouldn't skip class or leave her work to the last minute but she's found something she's passionate about and loves. How would you feel if your parents didn't support you in your football and made you go to medical school?"
Ingrid wipes the tears out of her eyes when she flicks to the last picture you've drawn. It was from last week, when she rewarded you for doing all your work before the weekend with ice cream. You had taken a picture with Mapi and Ingrid, tongue poking out and cheeks pressed together.
You've replicated it perfectly on the page and scrawled a little heart at the bottom along with your signature.
"Jona...Jona said they're looking for someone to do a mural on the back wall of the Johan Cruyff," She says eventually, flipping the book closed," We...Er...We..."
"I'll call Jona," Mapi assures her," Go and save your sister from work she's already finished."
Like Mapi said, you've already finished all of your work and you're sitting stubbornly at the kitchen table, rolling a piece of lint between your fingers.
You're taken completely off guard when Ingrid pulls you in for a hug. Usually, it takes an hour or two for her to calm down after yelling at you.
"I love you," She says as she pulls away, cradling your face as tears run down her face," I love you so much."
"Ingrid? What's going on?"
"I love you," She says," And I want what's best for you. If you promise me that you'll try just a bit harder in school then I swear, I'll make everything better."
"Seriously, you're freaking me out here. What's going on?"
Map appears over Ingrid's shoulder with a dopey smile. "You should thank your sister. She's just sorted you out with a job."
"A job? Ingrid, no offence, but you don't even like me out of your sight. I can barely get by in Spanish. You want me to get a job too?"
"The Estadi Johan Cruyff needs a mural done-"
"Several murals," Mapi cuts in.
"-And you're doing them."
You blink in shock before a grin splits your face wide open. "Seriously? Are you joking?"
"Keep trying hard," Ingrid says," And I'm sure me and Mapi can sort you out with so much more."
982 notes · View notes
kittykattropicanna · 4 months
Note
would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.
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Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 
Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3
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TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3
PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist
Regular masterlist
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I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…
I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 
One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 
It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  
This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 
He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 
The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..
Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 
He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 
He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 
Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 
These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 
It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 
But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?
I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?
Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”
You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 
First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 
But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 
Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!
Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.
They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 
You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 
Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 
Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen
After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 
Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 
Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 
Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 
Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 
So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..
I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(
Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 
When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 
But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”
I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 
Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 
But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)
After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 
“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”
His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 
You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…
Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 
When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(
“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 
And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 
Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((
You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(
You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 
After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 
Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 
Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least
When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((
Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 
His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 
He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((
You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3
Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(
He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(
That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.
Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 
You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!
Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(
Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 
His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….
He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….
In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(
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Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)
!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)
Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune
Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors
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janeyseymour · 5 months
Text
Bridge Over Troubled Water
Request by: @iloveyall-18
Summary: You're Melissa's aide, and she's working you to the point where you think you might have to quit.
WC: ~7.3k
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Ashley got fired. Or... Melissa threatened that if she ever came back, she would wish she hadn’t. Either way, the aide wasn’t coming back, and the redhead was back to teaching two separate grades on her own... not that she wasn’t doing that before, but now it's official. She’s back to being on her own. 
“I don’t need another aide!” the teacher huffs at the principal. “I do just fine on my own, and I swear to you... if that little-” she cuts herself off before threatening Ava, “If Ashley comes back to me, I will retire early and leave you to handle two separate grades in one classroom.”
“You won’t!” Ava challenges.
“You wanna put money on it?” Melissa spits right back. She storms out of the room, not bending her knees and clearly very angry. Anybody could see that. What they don’t see is the absolute mess that her former aide had left for her. 
The room was currently in shambles. The progress monitoring papers weren’t organized in the slightest, the decorations were randomly hung with no sense of order or reason at all, half the desks were out of sorts, and the kids were still singing that stupid body song that Ashley had taught them while pounding on their desks. She still had to finish doing reading benchmarks with her third grade- or maybe it was second grade? Melissa has no idea at this point- all she knows is she’s about two seconds from taking a bat to her filing cabinet to get out her rage. 
“Alright!” she shouts into the room, her voice booming. Almost instantly, the kids stop. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, my little eagles. We’re taking quiet time a little early today so... So Ms. Schemmenti can get this place in order.”
A few of her kids help her organize the desks while Melissa does her best to organize the progress monitoring papers, as well as the other papers she kept on file for each kid. It doesn’t go well- she keeps confusing which students are in second grade and which students are in third grade. It doesn’t help that she has a few sets of siblings, and she had most of her third graders last year as second graders. She eventually just gives up.
“Line up,” the woman sighs in defeat. “We’re going outside.”
“Extra recess?” Maddie, one of the second graders, asks hopefully.
“Yeah, hon,” the redhead smiles down at him gently. “Ms. Schemmenti needs some fresh air, and hopefully a walk around the block if Ms. Teagues is outside too.”
“Do you think you need a hug?” the little girl asks. “Sometimes when I’m frustrated and need fresh air, I need a hug too.”
The teacher’s heart nearly melts. “Yeah, kiddo,” she says softly. “I think Ms. Schemmenti could use a Maddie hug.”
The second grader embraces her teacher for a few seconds before pulling away. “Feel a little better?” she asks hopefully.
“I do, sweetheart,” Melissa promises. “Thank you.”
As the combined second and third grade class makes their way down the hall, they stop at Janine’s room. “We’re goin’ outside. You comin’?”
“O-oh, yeah,” Janine looks shocked. “Yeah, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Melissa smirks to herself. “Alright, kid. Don’t be too long now.” It was looking like she was going to get her walk around the block that she had hoped for... and maybe a water ice or a hoagie from Wawa to cheer her up even more.
That was a few days ago. Melissa was floundering with the two grades again. She hates to admit it, but Ashley had some sort of way with the kids that could keep them occupied while she handled the bulk of it. And even if she wasn’t usually helpful, having some sort of distraction so she could focus was useful.
“Okay,” she storms into Ava’s office. “So many I could use an aide, but I swear to God, it better not be-”
“Melissa,” Ava cuts her off in an oddly serious tone. “I’m in an interview.” Only then does the redhead stop her tangent. She looks at the chair across from Ava, and there you are. You’re terrified of this woman to be quite frank- just storming into the room and knowing exactly what she wants. And she’s... wow. She’s really pretty. And the way that her- get your head out of the gutter.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Melissa fumbles her words. She’s too busy looking at you too, not that she would admit that to anyone. “We’ll talk late-”
“Well, Ms. Schemmenti,” the principal laughs. “Because I am such a great owner of this school, I decided to take initiative and find you a replacement aide after you so... rudely... let Ashley go. This is Y/N. She’ll be your new aide.”
You bite your lip. You have no idea how you’re going to work with her when you already have the hots for her. “Hi,” you say shyly and stick your hand out.
She shakes it. “Schemmenti. Melissa. Let’s get goin. I gotta pick the kids up, and then I need to finish their reading checks, so you can just hang back for the afternoon and observe and get to know the little monsters.”
You hesitate to move, and she glares at you. “C’mon, what's the matter with you? You need a special invitation?” She shakes her head, clearly not approving you, and stalks down the halls. You sigh, grab your bag, thank Ava quietly, and head towards your assigned teacher. You easily fall into step with her.
She collects the kids from music room and directs the line leader to take them all the way down to the classroom. Once the kids are settled in their seats, Melissa allows them to grab their snacks from their bags before she turns on a read aloud from Storyline Online- one of your favorite websites to use with the kids. She notices that you’re still standing awkwardly just inside of the door.
“C’mere,” she rolls her eyes. You quickly go to her desk. “Yes, Ms. Schemmenti?”
“First off,” she huffs. “It’s Melissa. Ain’t no need to be formal with me, you got that?” you nod. “Second, that back table is your new desk, but you do anything too stupid to it, I will take it back, and you’ll have to stand all day. Y’understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you say rigidly.
“Still too formal,” the redhead tells you. “C’mon. Just say my name.”
“O-okay, Melissa,” you whisper. She smiles at you, just barely. But you know you want to see that smile again. You see the way her eyes sparkle just a little differently when you’ve done something that isn’t pissing her off.
“There y’go, hon,” she smirks. “Now... for today, like I told you, I’m just monitoring their reading and checking progress, and I’ll probably be doing that for the next few days since my last aide spilled all of her gatorade over the first few kids’ work I already did. Use that time to just settle in- maybe get to know the kids a little bit.”
  You nod and head back to where she told you your station was. You immediately see a bunch of thick water rings on the wood, presumably from the incompetent aide before you. You see the way that some parts of the desk are still sticky with... is that gum? And there’s paint all over the desk. You walk back over to her desk, and she finally looks like she's at some sort of peace. You hate to interrupt it.
“Do you have cleaner? That desk is a mess,” you request softly.
“Bottom cabinet by the sink,” she tells you. “Paper towels are down there too.”
“Thank you,” you smile at her as you walk away. She almost instantly falls in love with your smile. She always wants to see it.
You clean the desk and have your things relatively set up when the story is over, and she turns the lights back on.
“Alright, my little monsters,” she smiles as she stands and makes her way around her desk. “As some of you know, Miss Ashley is gone, and Principal Coleman was able to find us a replacement, so this is Ms. Y/N. Don’t rip her apart, you hear?”
“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti,” They say in unison. She has a smirk on her face though. 
“Ms. Schemmenti has to do some more independent reading with youse, so if I’m not working with you, your choices are to-” she opens her marker and starts writing on the board. “Read independently, work on any papers in your unfinished work folder, or do math fluency. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti.”
“Since this is all independent work, should I be able to hear your squeaky little voices?” Melissa asks them, a smile on her face.
“No, Ms. Schemmenti.”
“Alright, kiddos. Start working. I’m gonna need Maddie first.”
As the kids start to get out their materials, and Melissa takes to work with a student at the table connected to her desk, you stand. You might as well make yourself useful and make sure the students are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You start circulating the room quietly, making sure to redirect a few students who aren’t doing what they should be. 
You even sit down with a student who seems to be having trouble with their reading and start to help them decode words that aren’t sight words. You help them sound the word out and use their context clues to figure out the meaning of the word. 
Your assigned teacher starts calling other students, and you can’t help that she’s haphazardly throwing the progress monitoring sheets onto her desk. You look around the room. Every student is doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You walk over.
“Can I help you organize those?” you ask shyly. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but I would love to help in any way I can.”
She glances up at you, and there are those sparkling green eyes again. “You know what?” she mutters to herself. She pulls two separate class lists out along with some folders. “Knock yourself out kid.”
You smile as you take the materials and bring them back to your table. You’re able to sort through the papers and get them in order in no time. 
“Do you have a filing cabinet, or maybe bins for this to go in?” you ask as you bring the stacks back over. “Any other papers for me to file?”
She just points over at the bigger piles on her desk. You grab them and think about how you want to organize all of this for her. She has different colored folders, manilla folders, and a filing cabinet.
You assign each color folder a subject and put one of each color folder in a manilla folder. The manilla folder has the student’s name on it, and then that goes into the filing cabinet. This way, if Melissa needs to pull information for a certain student, it’s all in one place. If she needs to pull from a certain subject, she’ll know what color folder to pull for each student. You’ve used this system before. You know it’ll work just fine for the redhead so long as you leave her with a key for the colored folders. 
While you do this, you still manage to make sure the students are staying on task and are remaining relatively quiet. You go between organizing her papers and tending to the students seamlessly. Melissa can’t help but look at you in wonder. Maybe she got lucky having you join her class.
After a bit of time, Melissa pulls the class back together to do a whole group math lesson, a new concept for the second graders and review for the third graders, and while she’s teaching you continue to silently organize. When the time comes for the students to practice, you circulate the room in order to make sure students are grasping the concept- they should. The redhead taught it very thoroughly and very explicitly. 
After math, the students head out for lunch. You settle in at your desk, ready to nibble on the granola bar you brought for the first day- eating in new places always made you relatively nervous. You promise yourself tomorrow you’ll bring a real lunch.
“Hey, Y/N,” Melissa comes back into the room after dropping the kids off at lunch. “You got a lunch?” You raise your granola bar in the air as you chew, a hand over your mouth. “We got a staff room if you’d rather eat there. I’ll be there for the lunch period, and then I’ll be back to grade those worksheets.”
You just nod quietly and settle into your seat. She lingers at the door for a few seconds before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”
You finish your lunch relatively quickly. During the lunch period, you manage to write your key for your filing system, finish filing their papers, and grade the third graders’ papers. You set them neatly on her desk with a sticky note that says, Hope you don’t mind.
“I have no clue who she is or where she came from,” Melissa sighs into her lasagna. “But she’s like a walking angel on this Earth.”
“Oh?” Barb pops an eyebrow.
“In the hour she’s been in my room, she’s cleaned the mess that Ashley left, came up with a filing system for me and started putting it together, made sure the kids were on task while I progress-monitored for reading, and helped Shyane with her decoding. This woman isn’t real, I swear.”
“That’s great to hear, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “You deserve the help after what... she did to your room. And what’s her name?”
“Y/N,” the redhead says. 
“You actually know her name?”
“I figured I should probably learn it,” the second and third grade teacher shrugs. “Lord knows I yelled Ashley’s name enough. It woulda helped if I actually knew her name the first two weeks I was yellin’ at her.”
Barb just laughs. Their lunch period ends, and Melissa finds herself almost excited to come back into the classroom to see you.
You’re sitting at your table, head down as you type furiously on your laptop. You’re trying to finish up this paper to submit for your graduate program. It isn’t due for another three days, but you want to be finished with it so you can attempt to settle into your new job.
Melissa silently meanders her way over to her desk where she sees everything you’ve done. Her eyes widen as she realizes just how much you had completed for her. She opens her filing cabinet and looks at how you’ve organized everything before taping your rather aesthetically pleasing legend to that portion of the cabinet. 
“You didn’t have to do all this, hon,” she says softly. “I appreciate it though.”
You wave a hand in dismissal and continue writing your paper. “I had the time, and I didn’t mind. I hope you don’t mind that I graded the third graders’ stuff for you. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do with it though, so I left it out.”
“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I really do appreciate it. You just saved my Saturday.”
“Of course, Melissa,” you reply, eyes still glued to your computer.
“You workin’ on something important over there?” she asks.
You stop your typing to look up and smile at her. “Just trying to get ahead on my paper for my one graduate class.”
“You’re in grad school?”
“I am,” you say softly. “I used to teach third grade out in the suburbs of Philly, but I decided to take a leave of absence to take some classes over at Temple. I don’t know if I could handle all of the aspects of teaching while taking four grad classes at a time.”
“Four?” her brows furrow. “That’s a lot of work.”
“It’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I’m trying to get it done as quickly as I can so I can get back to teaching.”
“So how’d you end up here?”
“I could use the money, and all of my classes are at night anyway, so I have time during the day to keep in touch with my inner teacher.”
“What’re you going for?”
“Masters in reading,” you chuckle.
“So that’s why you could help Shyane with her reading and make it make sense for her,” Melissa catches on.
“Yup,” you chuckle, popping your ‘p’. “I can always help with progress monitoring too, if you’d like.”
“That would be greatly appreciated. And your classroom management is amazing,” she compliments.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you blush.
“That’s the quietest my classes have been since... the second week of school,” the redhead tells you as she starts grading the second graders’ work. “Give yourself more credit, rookie.”
---
That was two months ago. In the past two months, your graduate classes have really picked up. During any moment of downtime, you’re doing schoolwork. In this time, Melissa and you have grown close. You’ve come to realize she isn’t as tough as she likes to play- she’s actually quite soft for you. She’s also realized that you truly are an amazing teacher. The two of you are practically co-teaching the two different grades at this point, and she’s given you almost complete control of both grades’ reading workshop times. The two of you actually changed the schedules so that you could direct your full attention to both grades for their reading. While one group is doing their reading workshop lesson on the carpet, the other grade is doing independent work, and Melissa either circulates the room or is doing work at her desk.
You feel like you’re doing all of the work of a teacher at this point, without the pay of a teacher. She’s even asked you to come in for conferences to help explain certain aspects of the day to the students’ parents. At the rate you’re going, you would’ve been better off just staying at your old school and dealing with the parents and students there. You’re drowning. You are absolutely drowning. You don’t think you can do this anymore. 
You have to tell Ava you have to quit so you can focus on your classes again. You don’t want to leave the second and third grade teacher with her classes all by herself again... and you honestly don’t want to leave the redhead. She brings a spring to your step and makes you feel like you’re always doing amazingly. But you just... can’t handle doing this anymore. You're beyond stressed, and the only way you function at this point is with copious amounts of caffeine in your system at any given time. It’s unhealthy, you’ve lost weight from the stress and the fact that you barely have time to eat anything, and you need to... you need to leave while you’re on good terms with Melissa. You need to leave before you disappoint her because you’re falling behind.
You enter the classroom early like you always do, setting your things down at your table. Usually, you take this time while Melissa is in the staff room to continue working on a paper or researching, but instead you walk down to Ava’s office.
“Hey, Ava,” you knock gently on the frame of her door. “You have a minute?”
“Hey, girl,” she doesn’t even bother to glance up from her phone. “If you’re looking for more cleaning supplies, Mr. J took them all to-”
“I was actually hoping we could talk,” you say softly. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Are you finally filling out a relationship form for you and Schemmenti?” the principal asks as she looks away from her phone, leaning forward. 
“What?” you ask, flabbergasted.
“Oh please,” Ava laughs in your face. “Don’t act like you two haven’t been sneakin-”
“Ava, I’m here to quit,” you get out before she can say anything else.
“W-what? No, you can’t do that,” the principal argues. “That classroom hasn’t been in better shape. Melissa hasn’t been angry walkin’ through the halls since you showed up.”
“I don’t want to leave, but I have to in order to keep up with my grad classes,” you tell her. “I can stay through conferences, but then I really have to focus on my own classwork.”
“But you're just an aide,” Ava tells you. “Surely you can handle it.”
“At this point, Melissa and I are co-teaching, and I’m only making an aide’s money. My grades are starting to slip in grad school, and I have to focus on that,” you tell her. “I’m running myself into the ground. I can’t keep doing this.”
“What if I just don’t accept your resignation?” she challenges. 
“Ava!” You fold your arms over your chest. “I’ll stay through conferences to help Mel, but then I have to focus on myself for a little.”
“Mel?”
“Not the point, Principal Coleman.”
“What if I offered you a contracted position?” Ava tries to bargain.
“You and I both know that’s not possible,” you sigh. “I’ve seen the budget, and Abbott is already pushing the limit.”
She groans. “You have to tell your woman though. There ain’t a chance in hell I’m telling her.”
“She’s not my woman,” you roll your eyes, but you exit. You suppose you’ll tell Melissa today during your prep.
You return back to your classroom, and those striking green eyes light up when she sees you. 
“There y’are,” she smiles at you. “I was hopin’ you would be here. I wanna talk to you about your thoughts on the field trip for the spring.”
You bite your cheek but nod. She doesn’t need to know you won’t be there for the field trip just yet. And if you tell her right now about your plans, she will flip. There’s not enough time to discuss that before the kids come in. So you wait to tell her. You discuss the different ideas for field trips to maybe do in the Spring. You suggest Longwood Gardens, while she thinks of the zoo. You have the idea to go to an arboretum, and she tells you maybe they could go to the ‘water zoo’, as one of your students loves to call it.
You teach your lesson while she progress-monitors for the other group, and then both classes have their special. 
“Ms. Y/N?” the teacher asks. “Would you mind walking them down to the gym while I run to the bathroom?”
You nod, and the kiddos all line up for you. You walk them down and are headed back into the classroom before you’re ready. The redhead falls into step with you as she leaves the bathroom.
“They’ve been pretty good today,” Melissa notes quietly as she walks with you.
“Yeah,” you sigh softly. You start to play with the hem of your shirt nervously as you come to terms with the fact that you have to tell her you’re leaving in three weeks.
“You okay, Y/N?” she picks up on one of your many nervous habits. “You need another pick me up? I can make another pot of coffee for us, although I do think you might benefit from something other than coffee.”
You start to pick at the imaginary lint on your pants. “I think we need to talk, actually.”
“Oh?” she looks at you with eyebrows knit in concern. “You need someone to sign off on your papers for grad classes?”
“N-no,” you chuckle nervously as you close the door. “I uh... I actually need to talk to you about after conferences.”
“Sure. hon. You got another brilliant idea?” She takes a seat at her desk, taking off her glasses and setting them on top of her hair. 
You sit on the edge of her desk and take a shaky breath. “Mel, after we hold conferences... I’m done.”
“Y-you’re what?” she freezes in her place.
“After conferences, I have to be done here,” you say softly, and you can’t look at her.
“You’re leavin’ us?” she whispers. She sounds heartbroken. “Leaving me? Just givin’ up on Abbott?”
You shake your head quickly. “No. Melissa, let me explain. Please.” You finally gain the courage to look at her, and you can see the tears in her eyes. You didn’t think leaving would affect her like this.
“Go ahead,” she says, tone full of ice. Her hands are on her hips, and she refuses to look at you. “Tell me why you’re leaving us. Giving up.”
‘Melissa,” you whisper and set a gentle hand on her arm.
“Don’t touch me,” she bites out. “Just explain yourself. How you’re too good for Abbott, so you’re going back to fancy, rich school out in the sub-”
“Melissa, I’m burning out,” you cut her off as you stand and start pacing her room. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to look out for my own well-being.” The redhead goes to open her mouth, but you continue. “I love Abbott more than you could ever imagine, but at this point: I’m running myself into the ground. I’m a full time grad student, I still work my shift at the restaurant on Sundays-”
“You never told me you did th-”
“-And at this point, I’m co-teaching with you. I don’t mind co-teaching with you; I actually love it. But I don’t have the time to plan out lessons, grade papers at home, or help you respond to parents when we’re off the clock. I’m only getting paid the aide’s pay, and I’m drowning in my own school assignments at this point. I-” you choke on your own breath. 
All of this is finally spilling out, and you can’t stop the tears that spring to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were. 
“I barely sleep, I barely eat, and I can hardly afford my rent at this point,” you admit so quietly. “So I think I- If I had known this is what being an aide was going to be like, all the responsibilities of a contracted teacher without the teacher pay, I would’ve just stayed at my old school. I- I can’t do this anymore. I’ll stay and help with conferences, but after that... I told Ava I was done.”
The redhead looks at you and the way that you’re shaking, just barely breathing and trying to catch your breath. Her heart breaks for you. This was her fault. She expected too much of you and worked you into the ground. 
“Hon,” she stands from her chair and walks around her desk. She pulls you into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? You could’ve told me.”
“Didn’t wanna- didn’t wanna disappoint you,” you shrug as you practically cling to her.
“Y/N,” Melissa pulls back to look at you. “Are you kidding me? You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. You have natural talent when it comes to all of this, and even if you gave me just 25% as opposed to your usual 110%... It would be more than enough.”
Again, you shrug. “You kept asking for help, and I didn’t want to say no,” you mumble. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I wanted to make things as easy as possible for you- especially with the two different grades.”
“Hon, I’m a Schemmenti. I was made for tough situations,” the redhead chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “You, however, are not a Schemmenti. You’re close, but not quite. So you gotta tell me when you’re struggling and need some support or leniency, because I’d rather have a little more on my plate than usual while you’re still here with me than have everything on my plate and not have you here... or worse, have Ashley come back.”
You inhale deeply, finally being able to catch your breath, and you wipe your tears. “I- sorry. I don’t usually get like this, but I’m-”
“Please don’t leave,” Melissa practically begs you. “I don’t know if I can go back to having all of these kids to myself.”
“Mel, I’m working myself into the ground,” you tell her, and you sit down on one of the desks. The tears in your eyes just continue to well and fall. “I really don’t think I can keep doing this... It’s getting bad again.”
“What’s getting bad?” she asks as she mimics your actions.
You run a hand through your hair. A decent clump comes out as you comb your fingers through. You make sure the second and third grade teacher sees it before you throw it out. You sigh a shaky sigh. You suppose you can admit everything now that you’ve burst into tears. “When I get really stressed... I don’t know how to stop. I just keep going, but it affects m-my everything. My hair has been falling out because of my stress. Since I’ve started working here, I’ve lost fifteen pounds because I just don’t have the time to eat, and when I do... I just end up going to bed. And even when I do that, I still only get a maximum of four hours of sleep a night because I know I have things to do for you and the kids. I- I can’t keep doing this to myself, and I know it’ll get to a point where I’m just useless to you. You and the kids deserve so much better than what I’ll be giving you if I keep going. So, I’d rather be able to leave on good terms with Abbott and you before I ruin everything.”
You’re telling her the truth. This is all happening, and you really don’t want to leave on bad terms. You don’t want to disappoint Melissa. You quite literally think your heart would break if Melissa were ever disappointed in you. Over the past two months, all you’ve wanted to do is please Melissa and make her happy- make it easier for her in any way you can.
Somewhere in the middle of being her teacher’s aide, you found yourself falling in love with her. You don’t know it, but she’s head over heels for you too. You make her days so much brighter. Even just your presence and the soft smiles you throw at her occasionally keep her calm, cool, and collected. She would rather have to take on more responsibility again but be able to keep you than have you leave all together and leave her with the shitshow. 
“Hon,” she says softly. “Why didn’t you- how can I support you through this?”
You shake out your hands nervously. “I’ll be fine. I just have to get through this rough patch, and then I’ll be fine. I’ll- I’ll pick up more shifts at the restaurant to help cover my rent, and I-” you don’t know what else to say.
“Is there any way I can convince you to stay?” Melissa asks you hopefully. “I really would hate to lose ya.”
You shrug. You aren’t sure. You know that if she can come up with a few solid reasons or ways for you to stay, you will. You don’t want to leave, but it might be what you have to do.
“What if... I know we have a little wiggle room in the budget, so I can-”
“Ava already tried to offer me a contract position, but I know there isn't enough money there,” you sigh.
“But I’m sure we can argue to the board that you deserve some sort of raise?”
“I’m outsourced,” you tell her. “The board isn’t in charge of me.”
“Okay...” the woman desperate to keep you racks her brain for other ideas. “What if... I’ll start taking the third graders’ stuff home to grade instead of you. I’ll make sure I have everything planned out and the materials for lessons other than Reading workshop time... I really do think you do better with that than I ever have. And I’ll handle the parents the best that I can and only run an email by you if I really think I could use some... talking down..., and I- I’ll- I can make ya lunch to make sure you’re at least eating somewhat properly. This way... you’ll have some time to relax at home, you’ll be less stressed, and you can enjoy some of the best Italian food I got to offer. And, during everyone’s independent time, while I progress monitor, all I want you to worry about is making sure that pretty little head of yours is getting your degree. How’s that sound?”
“Mel...” you bite your lip. “That’s all real nice of you, but that doesn’t... I’d be taking a big step back from what you’re used to. I really don’t-”
“Please,” Melissa begs you. “Please. The kids- they love and respect you, and they would be heartbroken if you left. They’ve never listened to anyone as good as they do you. And I don’t want ya to go. It doesn’t even matter if you were to help out with the lessons anymore. You keep the kids calm, and you keep me calm. Like I said, I’m a Schemmenti; I can handle it all- that’s why I got stuck with the two classes in the first place. Gettin’ you was just a bonus. But now that I got ya, I don’t want to let you go. You make me a way better teacher, even if just to keep my emotions in check. Even if you don’t help plan the lessons anymore, or teach the kids... I want you around.You keep me grounded on days where I think I might lose it. I’ll be two seconds from snapping on Tymir, and all I gotta do is look at you to calm me down. I don’t wanna lose that; I don’t wanna lose you... and my sanity. You make my days way brighter than they used to be. Please stay with us.” 
She’s doing everything she can to convey how she feels about you without outright saying it. She’s saying anything she can think of to keep you around. She doesn’t want to lose you. She doesn’t want to lose you because no matter what you do, you keep her grounded. You make her a better teacher. You make her days brighter. You keep her in check. She wants you to stay. 
You worry your lip between your teeth as you mull everything over in your head. “I just don’t want you to start to hate me,” you admit nervously.
“I could never,” she tells you honestly.
“Even if I’m not doing as much?”
“Even if you did absolutely nothing but sit at your desk and look pretty all day,” she assures you. “I could never hate you.” I love you.
“You think I’m pretty?”
��Not the point,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully. “But yes. I’d have to be blind to think you weren’t pretty.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “O-okay. I’ll stay.”
The next thing you know, Melissa’s arms are around you and squeezing you tightly, thanking you endlessly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You give a watery chuckle before you hazard a glance at the clock. “I think you gotta go pick up the kiddos from the gym.”
“Dammit,” she grumbles. She pulls away and attempts to wipe away your tears with her sleeve. “Okay, okay. You go pull yourself together, go tell Ava that you ain’t leaving... and then all you gotta worry about today is looking pretty in the back. I don’t care what you do back there... sleep, eat, do research for your paper, start a cult... whatever you have to do to stay here with me... and the kids.”
“I’m not starting a cult,” you chuckle through watery tears. “Thank you, Mel.”
The two of you walk out of the classroom and head your separate ways- her towards the gym, you towards the bathroom.
You manage to pull yourself together a few minutes later, and then you walk down to Ava’s office.
“I take my resignation back,” you tell the principal as you enter her office.
“Your girl ain’t letting you go?”
“She isn’t my girl, but... she asked me to stay and we agreed on terms for me to work under, so I’ll be staying.”
Your principal just makes a whipping sound. “All I’m sayin is, should I get the forms ready for the two of you to file?”
You roll your eyes. “No, Ava. I- She isn’t into me like that.”
“That’s what you think,” Ava fires out. “That woman makes more eyes at you than Gregory did at Janine. It’s only a matter of time before you two come in here holding hands.”
With a huff and a toss of your hair, you exit the office and head back for the second grade wing.
When you re-enter the classroom, the kids are in the middle of snacking, but they’re doing a ‘working snack’ as you and Melissa call it. You don’t know what they’re working on, but when they finish it, they hold it close to their chest and take it up to the redheaded teacher. She gives each of them a sticker (from the tablet of stickers you bought for them) and sets the paper face down on her desk.
They don’t bother you at all as you make your way to the back of the room and settle at your seat. You pull out your laptop and attempt to focus enough to work on your paper, but you can’t help yourself from glancing up at the redheaded teacher every once in a while as she praises the students for their hard work.
Come lunch time, she heads down to the front office to pick up the cheesesteaks she had ordered for the two of you. You smell them before you know they’re for you, and you’re envious of whoever gets to dig into it. A cheesesteak sounds perfect just about now- so much better than the poptart you had packed yourself.
She walks in, both sandwiches in her arms, with a grin. “Put your laptop away, and enjoy lunch for once, hon.”
You nod and pull the poptart out of your bag. You go to open it when she plucks it out of your hand and throws it back into your bag. Instead, she lays the sandwich down in front of you. She pulls one of the chairs up to your table and starts to unwrap hers, biting into it with a moan.
“Damn,” she says through a mouthful. “That hits the spot.”
“M-Mel, you didn’t have to do that,” you say bashfully as you unwrap it. You take a small bite of the sandwich, and while your reaction to the first bite isn’t what Melissa’s was, you have to admit it’s pretty damn good. 
“I didn’t have to do anything,” she chuckles. “I wanted to. And when I’m done destroyin’ this, I’m gonna brew us another pot of coffee, and then I’ll cover your recess duty so you can do whatever it is that you have to-”
“Melissa,” you cut her off. “You’re going over the top.”
“I went over the top when I worked ya to the bone. Let me make it up to you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well, I’m gonna be out to cover your recess duty whether you’re out there or not, so...”
“Thank you,” you lay a gentle hand over hers and give it a squeeze. “I appreciate it.”
“I appreciate you and all the hard work you’ve been doing. If you need another day like this at any point where the kids don’t bother you or nothin’, all you gotta do is ask. I’ll always make sure to make it work for you. Anything for you. You hear me?” she tells you.
“Loud and clear, Ms. Schemmenti,” you giggle as you give her a mock salute. “Hey, what were the kids working on when I came in?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa tries to dismiss your question. “You’ll figure it out by the end of the day.”
The rest of your lunch period passes as it usually does. The two of you talk about everything, even in just twenty five minutes.
“Alright, hon,” Melissa stands and zips her jacket. “I’ll be out in the recess yard. You do whatever you gotta do, yeah?”
“You really don’t have to cover my recess-”
“I don’t have to, but I want to,” she lays a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently. “Let me do this for you.”
You nod. “Thanks, Mel.”
By the end of the day, your students haven’t bothered you once. Melissa has taken charge of the entire day, even changing plans around so she could teach both classes at the same time and monitor their independent work time simultaneously. You’re sitting in the back, eyes barely open as you type up the last of your paper. God, you’re exhausted. You can’t wait to go home and-
“Ms. Y/N,” Melissa singsongs. She taps your shoulder, and- How’d she even get next to you? And why are the kids lined up in front of you?
“Ms. Schemmenti?”
“Today, during snack time we figured we could use our time to make you cards to show how much we care for our favorite classroom aide,” the redhead says sweetly. “Isn’t that right, my little eagles?” 
They all nod enthusiastically. One by one, they hand you different drawings, pictures, words, poems... everything so that you know how much you mean to them. With each paper you’re gifted with, you also get a hug.
Melissa is the last one in line, and she hands you a paper folded neatly. You open it and glance over what she had written. She just tells you how grateful she is for everything you’ve done, and how thrilled she is that you’ve decided to stick around.
It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s perfect. It’s so Melissa. 
“Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti,” you breathe out as you wipe at your tears. “Wow. Thank you guys!”
“We love you, Ms. Y/N!” the class exclaims.
“And I love you guys,” you laugh through the last of your tears. “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, the bell rings, and all chaos breaks loose as the kids head out. You and the redhead are packing up the last of your things when you hear her sigh.
“So... what do you say you come over to my place tonight, and I make ya dinner while you finish up your paper and then relax? Make your life a little easier.”
“You already fed me one meal today and made my life easier,” you laugh as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“What’s one more?” she shrugs. “Offer’s on the table, and I make one mean risotto.”
“Alright, Mel,” you sigh in good nature. “But I’m bringing wine.”
“Grab something good.”
---
The redhead and you walk into Ava’s office together a month and a half later.
“I knew it,” she celebrates quietly. She then leans into the PA system. “Attention, Mr. Johnson: You lost! Fool!”
She opens her drawer and pulls out the forms for HR. 
She’s already filled out most of it with a sparkly pink pen- all you two have to do is sign the bottom to recognize that the two of you are in a workplace relationship. 
“Ava!” you exclaim as you look over them.
“I told you it was only a matter of time,” she says with a smug look on her face. 
You hate to admit it, but Ava was right.
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fireflysummers · 9 months
Text
Good Omens S2
Okay so.
Excellent Job, Gaiman
Ouch???
I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.
But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).
It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.
And it's slow.
Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.
Anyways.
Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.
I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.
I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.
I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.
I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.
On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.
And Crowley. Dear Crowley.
He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.
Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.
Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.
It won't be permanent.
But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.
Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.
I want Aziraphale to get angry.
He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.
I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.
But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.
For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.
For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.
For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.
And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.
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cookiepie111 · 7 months
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࿐Drink from the leche of sirens࿐
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Synopsis - An injury könig comes across a lake and pretty nymph. Greek au könig x black nymph reader. No minors. Smut
Part 2 here
A/N-
An alternate to the fountain girl fic I wrote.
Think this might be the longest thing I've written. There is a Pinterest mood board here. Shout out to @cinnamonbunboii cause their comment inspired this fic. Please like and reblog!
Tags: @terra-713 @cinnamonbunboii @kneelingshadowsalome @bucca2
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Deities are petty beings, twisting the hearts of humans when things don't go their way. König and his army may have won the battle but the casualties were high, he himself was beat and bruised. Its just a game to them and what do you do when you're losing and angry, you flip out, over turn the board and scatter the pieces. Think of a new way to win while your opponent garthers up their fallen pieces.
Scattered by the wind, what a cliche but it works, in all the commotion the soldiers were separated, placed in every which direction, on land, and both above and below the heavens. How petty all this because you lost. Somehow this wasn't the worst part of könig's day just the final cherry on top the shitty Sunday the gods gave him. His lover betrayed him, separated from his allies, battered and bruised and now there's nothing around him but trees. If not for the situation and burning rage in his heart he'd find the place quite peaceful, beautiful even, a nice place to die.
The deeper könig went into the forest the more the atmosphere changed, trees bend and shift, covering the sky above. The slow dance of leaves and bright glow of the fireflies. All of it leading up to a lake in the clearing. It all felt too to unnatural to be real, like sweet honey leading him a trap. Pressing into the wound at his side, the sharp pain brought him back to his senses, this isn't the place to lose one's mind he'd need to keep his wits about him if he wanted to live.
Even if he doesn't want to accept it there's no denying this would be a beautiful place to die. Even now he hates himself for still thinking of her, even at the moment of his death she still has place in his mind. she'd love this place, a backdrop like this would only accentuate her beauty more.
He walked close to the lake feeling the trees shift around him again. Laying back on the trees bark sword placed on the ground.
The waters surface ripples altering könig to the figure in the lake, its shape he couldn't quite make out. A head, a person maybe. This place could be cursed, it wouldn't surprise him. He stares back never removing his eyes from them watching as they stay just below the water.
If he's intruded on some beings land they'll just have to put up with him or force him out. He's got enough strength for one last fight. It is after all the way of the warrior to go out fighting he thinks, unsteady as he pushes off the tree bark.
You can't remember the last time you saw another human here, they often end up with your older sister although you doubt they've all been this large and imposing. Even injured he carries himself very well. The cut in his stomach only causing him to hunch over, you doubt the blood covering him is his own.
Once at the water's edge the thoughts of battle quickly die down. It a woman in the water, human she is not but a woman still. The skin of human women doesn't glow or shine. Their skin isn't adorned with scales of greans and blue hues around their eyes nor does their hair shift and swirl like small currents atop the waters surface like yours. No those features that were that of nymph. Women of nature blessed with great beauty. And unfortunately for könig drowners of men.
His odds are about 50/50 he wouldn't drown so easily but that wasn't a risk he wanted to take, with his body is failing him now, heavy breaths as he falls back to the ground. Eyes still on the nymph at his front, she makes no move, just watching.
It takes a few moments for her to move a few more heavy breaths and groans from könig for her to lift from the water.
When she comes out to meet him she bare. Thin pieces of fabric dropping over her waist and chest slipping under her right breast, past her womanhood, more like an accessory one would add cause they thought it looked nice than a piece of clothing. Thick curly hair swirling around her body
To think he could still get hard at a time like this.
Drowning doesn't seem so bad now if it is by her hand.Maybe a kiss from them would send him peaceful into the afterlife.
She stood over him head tilling side from side,trying to figure the man out. He hasn't said anything, he doesn't shout or draw his sword like the other men she's seen. He's also taller, bigger, more.... solid than other men, gracing a hand down his arm. Kneeling beside him, the injury is worse than she thought. did one of the gods bring him here? Or did he just wonder here himself? You held your chin swaying on your heels deep in thought
König felt delirious, he's injured, lost and now there's a pretty nymph circling round, staring, pocking and prodding at him. If this was any other situation he'd take her in the moment. Hull her over his shoulder and fuck her till scream or blesses him, gives him heavenly children. But he's tired and weak, he can do nothing but watch as she frees his egear cock from his tunic.
He's never felt like this before, grunting and wincing under her touch. He's sure she's sucking the energy out of him.  Maybe its the bloodloss maybe it the fire at the groin the licking and kissing along his shaft causing the dizziness in him, eyes shut tight and panting as he comes closer to the edge but the release never comes. feeling her tongue stroke the entire length of him as she comes up.
The next moment for könig were pure bliss, something straight out of dream. To have her now Straddling him bouncing so eagerly on his cock, was a feeling he could never forget. The sweet stretch as she sank. It was frustrating not being able to touch her, She didn't move fast enough not for könig liking. He was too weak to set the pace, his hand only able to rest on the plush of her hip. Even if she used him like a toy könig couldn't help but throw his head back in pleasure at the squeeze of her soft walls.
Her hands explored the body under her, digging into the wounds, ignoring his hisses and complaints, pushing him back down before he finds the strength to push her off. It felt hot then numb, as she dug into his wounds.
With new found strength he bucked his hips, against her. The sound of their love making filling the forest air, his hands firmly at her hips to move her at a pace he found fit, fast and messy before emptying himself inside her.
When he finally came back down from the high he finds her form shake and ripple above him. The words die on his tongue, as her form melts down, and fades away into the water
He gets up able without stumbling this time walking straight finding himself back at the army base. König's honestly not sure if that really happened or if he was just crazy. He has nothing to show for the whole ordeal to prove it was real. He knows on the brink of the death the mind can conger all sorts of things to keep one alive but nothing could explain sleeping with a water nymph. he'd like to think he wasn't deranged...To imagine sleeping with being that would normally drown you but...
The only evidence he had was his body. The open wound in his stomach gone, his whole body intact even stronger than before. He'll think about this alot after wondering if you were really real. It would be best to get you out of his mind. Yet he sees you in the lakes and bodies of water and in the faces of women passing him by
You on the other hand couldn't believe your luck! Showing off the keepsake you'd got from the soldiers.
Red bracelet shining under the sun as you turned it on your wrist to show off to your sisters. Giggling and splashing round the waters edge. You're so lucky such a strong and handsome man!
"Wow what's his name".... "You did get his name right???" ... you didn't get his name. You didn't get his name! And honestly you're not sure which army he's with you can't tell the difference between the armours
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